The In Death Collection, Books 16-20

by J. D. Robb

  “Why? How much room could a baby take up?”

  “It’s not the baby so much, it’s all the stuff. You got your crib, your changing table, your activity center, your diaper unit, your—”

  “Never mind. Jeez.” It gave her the mild weirds just to think about it.

  “It was really smart to horn in using Mavis.”

  “I have my moments.”

  “Of course, you could’ve just told them you were Mrs. Roarke, and they’d have bowed to you.”

  “I don’t want them to bow to me, I just want a damn interview. And don’t call me Mrs. Roarke.”

  “Just saying.” Cheerful now, Peabody polished off the wrap. “Boy, nothing like a good breakfast to lift your mood. It’s not such a big deal, getting a place with McNab. It’s just another step in an evolving relationship. Right?”

  “How the hell do I know?”

  Fastidiously, Peabody dug out a wipe for her fingers, and made a mental note to replace the bloody handkerchief she’d left at Smith’s. “Well, when you moved in with Roarke you didn’t get all stupid and nervous and knotted up.”

  There was a long pause, a long silence.

  “You did?” Peabody’s head thunked back on the seat. “That’s so great. It makes me feel so much better. If you can get all screwed up over moving in with the god of men, into that palace, it’s okay for me to get wigged about moving to an apartment with McNab. It’s okay.”

  “Now that we’ve solved that thorny dilemma, maybe we can concentrate on the case.”

  “I just have one more question. When did you get over it? I mean, how long did it take for you to feel normal about hooking up with Roarke—living in the same space and all that?”

  “I’ll let you know when it happens.”

  “Wow. That’s . . .” She thought it over, and a dreamy smile bloomed on her face. “That’s sweet.”

  “Please shut up before I have to hurt you.”

  “Dallas, you said please. You’re mellowing.”

  “Insults,” Eve grumbled. “All I get are insults. Mrs. Roarke, sweet, mellowing. We’ll see how mellow I am when I stuff your head up your ass.”

  “And she’s back,” Peabody announced, and rode in contented silence.

  You could always count on Mavis, Eve thought. For a favor, for a laugh, for a shoulder. And most of all for sheer surprise.

  Being four months pregnant hadn’t depleted her energy or affected her bent for fashion risks. At least Eve assumed they were risks as nobody, absolutely nobody, looked quite like Mavis Freestone.

  She’d gone for summer pastels, for her hair in any case, and had swooped it up in some sort of snaky twists that twined gleaming hunks of blue and pink and greens together. They were anchored here and there with lavender pins in the shapes of what Eve took for tiny flowers, until she got a closer look and realized they were naked babies curled into the embryonic position.

  Talk about the weirds.

  A dozen thin chains of gold and silver dangled from each ear. On each chain, colorful balls hung that clanged together every time she moved. Which meant constantly.

  Her tiny body was decked out in a skirt the size of a table napkin, matched with a swingy vest, both in white, and both covered with tiny question marks that echoed the hues of her hair. She wore shoes with one clear strap. The thick soles and clunky heels were filled with more little balls that jingled with each step. Her toenails were painted in every color of the rainbow.

  For Mavis, it was business attire.

  “This is absolutely magalicious,” Mavis claimed. “Outre is like the cutting edge. It was my bible of style before I met my honeybear. I still go through it every month, but now I never have to think how I’m going to afford all the friggin’ clothes. Leonardo is the ult.”

  “I need five minutes with her.”

  “It’s a dunk, Dallas. If she could’ve kissed my ass over the ’link, I’d have lip dye smears on my butt. Just watch.”

  They crossed the wide lobby. It was done in sharp geometric patterns of white, red, and black. Fanning out from the central data desk were pathways that led to boutiques, a fancy café, and a home decor center.

  Between them on the walls were screens on which elongated models walked runways in outfits that might have been designed by a mental patient on Pluto.

  “Fall fashion shows,” Mavis told her. “New York, Milan, Paris, and London.” She let out a squeal and pointed. “See that? That’s my babycakes’s designs. Nobody comes close.”

  Eve studied the ensemble of skintight red stripes that boasted an explosion of gold tail feathers and a transparent skirt that glowed with little white lights at the hem.

  How could she argue?

  Mavis marched by the data center to the security station that guarded a bank of glossy red elevators. “Mavis Freestone to see Julietta Gates.”

  “Yes, Ms. Freestone, you’re to go right up to thirty. Someone will meet you.” The guard’s hand came up to stop Eve and Peabody. “Only Ms. Freestone is cleared for thirty.”

  “You don’t really think I travel alone, do you?” Mavis spoke in icy tones before Eve could work up a snarl. “If my entourage isn’t welcome, neither am I.”

  “I beg your pardon, Ms. Freestone. I just need to check upstairs.”

  “Quickly.” Mavis shot her little nose in the air. “I’m a very busy woman.”

  She made a show out of tapping her foot, examining her nails in the twenty seconds it took the guard to clear them.

  “You and your entourage are cleared for thirty. Thank you for your patience.”

  Mavis maintained the diva mode until the elevator doors shut behind them. “Subzero! I could eat that with a spoon. ‘You and your entourage are cleared for thirty.’ Is that hot shit, or what?”

  She did a quick butt-wiggling dance, then patted her belly. “I only said entourage because I thought you might punch him.”

  “I was thinking about it.”

  “I’m keeping the baby away from displays of violence. Not even watching much screen. I heard how serenity and positive energy’s really good for brewing babies.”

  With some trepidation, Eve glanced down at Mavis’s belly. Could the thing hear in there? “I’ll try not to punch anybody when you’re around.”

  “That’d be good.” Mavis shut off her beaming smile as the doors opened. The diva was back. She lifted her eyebrows at the woman who waited for them.

  “Ms. Freestone, such a pleasure to meet you. I’m an enormous fan of yours, and of Leonardo’s, of course.”

  “Of course.” Mavis extended a hand.

  “If you’ll just come with me, Ms. Gates is very anxious to see you.”

  “I dig this to China,” Mavis said out of the corner of her mouth as they walked through another generous lobby.

  In this one, clear cubes were set up for busy drones. Headsets and keyboards were fully manned by a troop that had obviously watched the fashion shows and tried to outdo them.

  The space once again fanned out, and at the far curve were double doors in what Eve now assumed was Outre’s signature murder red.

  Their escort hurried along in a skirt snug as a bandage, on heels sharp as scalpels. She pressed a button at the center of the left door. Seconds later, a brisk impatient voice snapped: “Yes.”

  “Ms. Freestone is here to see you, Ms. Gates.”

  Rather than a response, the doors slid back into the wall, revealing an enormous office, ribboned with privacy-screened windows.

  The black-and-white theme continued here. Black carpet, white walls, a massive white workstation. Wide chairs were covered in thin black-and-white stripes.

  The red came from the scarlet roses massed in a tall black vase, and from the sharp, powerful business suit that decked Julietta’s impressive body.

  She was tall, curvy with a simple sweep of honey blonde hair that swung around a diamond-shaped face. Keen cheekbones, keen chin, keen nose, with a mouth just a shade too thin for beauty. But the eyes, a deep, dee
p brown, pulled the attention away from the minor flaw.

  She was crossing the room as the doors opened, her hand extended, a delighted expression on her face. “Mavis Freestone, what a pleasure. I’m so glad you got in touch. I’ve been wanting to meet you for the longest time! Of course, I’ve known Leonardo forever. He’s such a sweetheart.”

  “He’s certainly mine.”

  “Please, sit down. What can I offer you? Iced coffee perhaps?”

  “I’m dodging caffeine these days.” Mavis remained standing, patted her belly.

  “Yes, of course. Congratulations. When are you due?”

  “February.”

  “What a nice Valentine’s present.” Ignoring Eve and Peabody, she drew Mavis toward a chair. “Get off your feet, and we’ll have a cold, sparkling juice.”

  “We’d love one. Got time for a drink, Dallas?”

  “I can make time, since Ms. Gates found an opening in her busy calendar.” Resting an arm on the back of Mavis’s chair, Eve cocked her hip. “My questions shouldn’t take long.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD.” Eve took out her badge. “My aide, Officer Peabody. Now that we all know each other, and we’re all cozy, maybe you could answer some questions.”

  “I repeat”—Julietta walked around her desk to assume a position of command—“I don’t understand. I agreed to see Ms. Freestone. We’d very much like to do a major article on you, Mavis, with a photo layout.”

  “Sure, we can talk about that. After Dallas is done. Dallas and I go way back,” she added with a wonderfully guileless smile. “When she mentioned she was having trouble getting an interview, I said I was sure it was just a communication glitz, and you’d make time. Supporting our local police is a really important issue with me and Leonardo.”

  “Cleverly done,” Julietta replied.

  “I thought so.” Eve stayed on her feet as Julietta sat down. “If you’re not comfortable, I’m sure Mavis wouldn’t mind waiting outside the office until we’re finished.”

  “No need for that.” Julietta leaned back, swiveled in her chair. “You’ve already spoken to Tom. I don’t know what I can possibly add. I don’t get involved in his work, and he doesn’t get involved in mine.”

  “How about each other’s lives?”

  Her tone remained perfectly pleasant. “Which area of our lives do you have in mind?”

  “When was the last time you were in London?”

  “London?” Her brow creased. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  “Humor me.”

  “I was there a few weeks ago on business.” With the annoyance still creased between her eyebrows, she picked up a small pocket calendar, keyed in for the date. “July eight and nine and ten.”

  “Alone?”

  There was a quick flicker in her eyes before she set the calendar down. “Yes, why?”

  “Your husband ever go over with you?”

  “We went in April. Tom thought the experience would be fun for Jed. I had business, and he wanted to do some research. We took an extra two days for a family holiday.”

  “Buy any souvenirs?”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I guess you travel to Europe pretty regularly,” Eve said, changing tack. “For your business.”

  “I do. For fashion shows, for events, to meet with my counterparts in our European offices. Just what does this have to do with Tom helping you in an investigation?”

  “It’s part of my investigation.”

  “I don’t—” She broke off when her pocket ’link rang. “Excuse me, that’s my private line. I need to get this.”

  She shifted it to privacy mode, slid on a miniheadset, and angled away so Eve couldn’t see the ’link’s view screen.

  “Julietta Gates. Yes.”

  Her voice warmed, several degrees, and that just-a-little-too-thin mouth tipped up in a smile.

  “Absolutely. I have it on my calendar. One o’clock. Mmm-hmm. Yes, I’m in a meeting.” There was a long silence as she listened, and Eve noted the faint flush that rose to her cheeks. “I’ll look forward to that. Yes, I will. Good-bye.”

  She disconnected, slipped off the headset. “Sorry, afternoon meeting. Now—”

  “Can you tell me where you were Sunday morning?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She let out a huff of breath. “Sundays, I let Tom sleep in and take Jed to the park, or to some other activity. I’m trying to be cooperative, Lieutenant, since Mavis has asked me to, but I’m finding this very annoying.”

  “Almost done. How about the night of September second, between midnight and three?”

  Julietta snatched up her calendar again, keyed in. Again, Eve saw the slight change cross her face. “I had a meeting with an associate. I can’t tell you precisely when I got home as I didn’t make note of it, but I think it was after nine, maybe close to ten. I was tired, and went straight up to bed since Tom was working.”

  “So he was home the entire night.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be? He was working. I took a pill and went to bed. I told him I was going to, so he’d hardly have left the house because of Jed. Tom’s completely devoted, and somewhat overprotective of Jed. What is this?”

  “That’s it for now. Thanks for the time.”

  “I think I’m entitled to some sort of—”

  “If you still want, we can talk about that article.” Mavis popped to her feet. “I just need a minute first.”

  She scooted out of the office with Eve, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “So? Did she kill somebody or what?”

  “Doubtful. The worst I figure she’s done is cheat on her husband with whoever called her on her private ’link.”

  “She did? She is? How do you know?”

  “Plenty of tells. Look, if you don’t want to deal with her, you can leave with me and Peabody. We’ll get you home.”

  “No, it’s chilly. A spread in Outre’s like my fantasy. And it’ll give a boost to my disc sales. Won’t hurt Leonardo’s biz either. It cooks for all of us. We did good, right?”

  “We did good.”

  “Night or day, day or night. Hey, what do you think about Vignette or Vidal?”

  “What are they?”

  “My baby. Vignette for a girl, Vidal for a boy. They’re French. We’re experimenting with French names, and I ditched Fifi. I mean, who names a kid Fifi?”

  Eve didn’t know who might name a kid Vignette either, but made a noncommittal mouth noise.

  “Somebody will call her Viggy,” Peabody said. “Which rhymes with piggy, so she’ll be Piggy Viggy in school.”

  Mavis looked horrified. “You think? Deep-six Vignette.” She gave her belly a comforting rub. “Plenty of time to come up with something else. Catch you later.” She swung back into Julietta’s office.

  “Impressions, Peabody?” Eve asked as they rode down.

  “She looks great, and she’ll come up with something better than Vignette or Vidal.”

  “About Julietta Gates, you moron.”

  “I know, I just wanted to annoy you. Sir,” she added when Eve looked at her. “Used to running the show, and likes it. Dresses for power even more than style. Ambitious. She’d have to be to have gotten where she is at her age. Strikes me as a little cold-blooded. There’s no zing when she talks about her kid. That was a good catch with the extramarital. Blew right by me. Then when you said it, and I played it back, it was right there. The way her voice changed, the body language.”

  “And from the way her face flushed up, I’d say the voice on the other end was letting her know a few games they’d be playing at their one o’clock today. I’m going to want to confirm the dish on the side, in case we need to push on her later.”

  “We going to surveil?”

  “No, don’t want to risk her spotting either one of us this close to our little interview. I’ll see if Baxter can handle it. How much does a kid like hers talk?”


  “At that age, they rarely shut up. Hardly anybody but immediate family can understand them, but it doesn’t stop them from talking.”

  “She met her side piece on Sunday, you can take that to the vault. And she had the kid with her. Wouldn’t he tattle to daddy?”

  “She probably told him it was a secret.”

  “Huh.” This was foreign territory, so she took Peabody at her word. “Kids keep secrets?”

  “No, but she doesn’t strike me as the type who knows her own kid very well. And the boy seems pretty tight with his dad. My best guess is he kept the secret until she was out of hearing, then blabbed. Daddy, me and Mommy and Uncle Side Dish played on the swings, but it’s a secret.”

  Eve let it play in her head, and nodded. “And I doubt it’s the first time. Daddy knows what’s going on, and wouldn’t that irritate him? Wouldn’t he be a bit put out? Here he is, staying at home watching the kid, taking care of the house, while she’s running around town—and Europe—with some other guy. Playing with some other guy with his son in tow. Yeah, that’s a real pisser.

  “Mother and whore,” she said as they got back into the vehicle. “We keep coming back to that. No problem for him to get out of the house for either murder, and he might’ve picked up the writing paper—paying cash—on his spring trip to London. Hell, the paper could’ve been a gift from a fan for that matter. And he decided it fit the bill. He knows the prototype murders as well as the initial killers.”

  “Means, motive, opportunity.”

  “Yeah, Thomas A. just jumped to the top of our list.”

  Chapter 15

  Eve had barely disconnected with Baxter when her communicator signaled. Whitney’s face filled the screen.

  “He’ll see you at ten forty-five. Make it good.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  Peabody studied Eve’s satisfied smile. “A person’s fifteen minutes late, one time, and she’s out of the loop?”

  “Get me some data on Sophia DiCarlo, the Renquist’s au pair, and I’ll fill you in on the way to the U.N.”