Chapter Fifteen

Before she reached the intersection, her 'link signaled. She saw Roarke on the display, then his face on-screen. Those brilliant blue eyes smiled at her.

"Lieutenant."

"Civilian."

"Out and about again, are you? As I am. A meeting downtown that ran over. Where might you be?"

"Heading to a shoe store downtown."

"Before I have a slight stroke due to shock, I'll assume this is fieldwork."

"Your brain's safe. I had another stop in the area." She joined the river of pedestrians crossing at the Walk signal. "Peabody's probably already there, but I'm this close anyway now."

"Give me the address. I'll meet you and catch a ride home."

She gave it to him. "Should be a quick stop."

"I'll be quick as well, as I'm also close."

She slid the 'link back in her pocket, discovered her sunshades, and put them on. On her right, a maxibus wheezed its way to a stop. People flooded off like refugees.

A trio of teenage boys, all in identical black baggies, strutted out of the flood and into a gaming store.

A woman with blond hair down to her ass sashayed—the only word for it. She wore purple micro shorts, a matching tank, and sandals with a three-inch platform that showed off purple toenails.

She carried a big flowered bag on her shoulder. A tiny, pointy-eared dog peeked out of it and goggled at Eve.

Thinking of Galahad, she gave the purse-dog a wide berth.

Two women headed up the block, both of them hauling shopping bags with the Fancy Feet logo. As they passed her, she heard one of them say:

"There's nothing like hitting an end-of-season sale!"

Why were there seasons for sales? Eve wondered. If the season was ending, did you have to wait until the next year to wear what you bought at the end of the season? Then you'd probably hit the preseason sales and end up with a closet full of pre stuff and end-of stuff before you bought in-season stuff.

A sickness, she decided. It was all a sickness.

Pleased to be healthy in that regard, she paused at the store, studied the signs announcing that end-of-season sale.

UP TO 50 % OFF!

LIMITED SIZES!

END YOUR SUMMER ON FASHIONABLE FEET!

Fashionable feet apparently meant sandals—platform, heeled, flats. Or open-toed shoes. Open-toed boots, which made virtually no sense whatsoever to her mind. A lot of candy colors, or more inexplicably to her, the clear ones that exposed your entire foot.

But as she opened the door to mild chaos, she decided the marketing just worked.

At least a dozen people sat on tiny scoop chairs or narrow benches, both with piles of shoes scattered like shrapnel. More crowded the shelves and racks while clerks hustled to bring more boxes out, take more boxes away.

The noise level reached awesome.

She spotted Peabody and McNab toward the back with a mid-twenties Asian woman in New York black and those weird clear, open-toed boots. She began to weave and dodge her way back.

Peabody saw her coming. "Oh, hey. Lieutenant Dallas, this is Mae-Lu, the assistant manager. Mae-Lu was about to tell us about an encounter with Ms. Lopez."

"Truth," Mae-Lu said, and spoke in a voice that rang with Queens. "So she comes in—the one in the picture they showed me, yeah? This is like back last fall before I got promoted, and we weren't swamped like today, yeah? We had some customers, but Roxy had them and I was free, so I asked if I could show her something, and she gives a look that's all: As if, and says she wants the manager."

"Did she ask for her by name?" Eve wondered.

"Nope, just ‘the manager,' and I thought how uh-oh, she's one of those, come in to bitch about something. So I went in the back where Shauna was handling some things, and told her. She comes out, and she says like: ‘Oh, hi, ChiChi'—I remember the name because my aunt has a cat named ChiChi. Anyway, the woman says how she wants to look at some shoes, which I could've helped her with, yeah? But Shauna takes care of her."

"So she bought shoes?"

Mae-Lu shifted on her invisible open-toed boots, then set a fist on her cocked hip.

"Nope, here's the thing. I got busy with a customer, then I noticed how the ChiChi woman's sitting there, with a bunch of shoes and boxes all around—that happens—but she's being bitchy about it, and she's got Shauna down on the floor, putting her shoes on like she's freaking Cinderella, yeah?

"We weren't all that busy, like I said, but I bet I served three customers while this one's sending Shauna back and forth. So when I'm free again, I go over and ask if I can take some of the shoes back for Shauna, and Ms. Cinderella gives me that look again, and she says how a manager should be able to manage."

Expressively, Mae-Lu rolled her gorgeous onyx eyes.

"Then she puts her own shoes back on and says how there's nothing in this store worth having. And gives Shauna that nasty look and says: ‘Nothing at all.' Then she walked out like the queen or whatever. I said something like, you know, ‘Whew, rude much,' but Shauna's all ‘It's no big.'"

Mae-Lu shrugged. "That's why she's the manager, yeah. She rolls. Anyway. We put all the shoes away, and I can see she's a little steamed, a little upset, but she just goes back to work, yeah? Shauna's totally professional, and really nice, too. She put me up for promotion. I'm really, really sorry about what happened to her fiancée."

Those onyx eyes went damp. "She'd come in once in a while—Erin. Everybody liked her."

"Did ChiChi ever come in again?"

"Not while I was working, and I'd probably have heard if she did from one of the other staff. Because, whoa, talk about 'tude. And not the good kind, yeah?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Um, if you talk to Shauna, just tell her we're all really sorry. And we're going to cover things here, yeah? Not to worry about any of it. I need to get back to it. Our big sales rock it out."

"Go ahead. Thanks again." She turned to Peabody. "Let's step outside."

And out of the mayhem to where Roarke in his perfect suit stood on the sidewalk perusing the shoes on display.

"Hello, Peabody, Ian. Lieutenant. Quite a busy hive in there, I see."

"It's all that," Peabody agreed. "A really good sale."

"Don't even think about it," Eve said.

"Hard not to. I didn't expect you guys."

"I decided to go by, talk to the neighbor. I'm parked there." Eve pointed. "Walk and talk."

Though Peabody gave the store a wistful glance, she fell in line. Roarke strolled behind them with McNab prancing by his side. Eve heard them launch into some e-geek thing about the Great House Project, and tuned them out.

"I talked to Ms. Burger—she recognized several photos."

"Friends drop by, come around, pop in."

"These did. Including Lopez—Burger deemed her snooty."

"She's not wrong."

"She states that Barney sometimes came in with Shauna, like after work. Sometimes came with Becca, but sometimes alone. And he came out of the apartment while I was there, carrying a box. Pretty good-sized box."

"Of what?"

"Since I didn't have a warrant, I can't verify. He said, at Becca's suggestion, he came over to clear out the friggie and the AC."

"Oh, well, that makes sense."

"It does. He literally jolted when he saw me in the hallway. He was nervous."

Beside Eve, Peabody weaved through pedestrians. "I gotta say, cops can do that to people. You really can do that to people."

"Proudly. He asked about the case, also not out of line, but pushed, a couple times, that it had to be some lowlife—his word—on the staff, or in the club outside the group.

"Not like Decker," Eve continued. "Not that tone. Hers was rooted in hope and grief. His was like he wanted to nudge me there or find out if that's where we focused."

"You're leaning toward him."

"Lopez is still in the running. Going into her rival's workplace, taking that time, wasting Shauna's time, and trying to humiliate her. And risking Shauna would complain about it to Erin."

When they reached the car, Eve stopped. "Lopez didn't just get replaced in bed, she got outdone. Her type can't stand for that. She had to know she risked getting cut out completely with that stunt, but she did it anyway."

"Lack of control."

"Yeah, and that need to humiliate, to take the power. And Barney's the hoverer. He made noises about how they should never have had the party in a place like the D&D. He didn't come out and say Erin was asking for it, but it was implied."

"I'm starting not to like him, either."

"And he had something in that box. Something he took out of there that wasn't from the AC or friggie. The way he looked, the way he held it."

Eve looked back toward the apartment building. Can't verify, she thought. But know it.

"I need to sort through this. Pile in. We'll give you a lift."

"We're actually going to the house. You can just drop us off," Peabody said when she read Eve's face. "I mean, Mavis's gang is there, and they'd be sad to miss you, but you could just drop us off."

"Ten minutes." She shot Roarke a look. "Ten."

"Your call, darling. Why don't I drive? Ian, we'll just take a very quick look at the comm system while we're there."

"Mag. Clicking in the house-to-house would be handy." He piled in. "She-Body, you sure you don't want them to drop us at the apartment? Grab a couple of the boxes?"

"Well…"

In the front seat, Eve felt more time ticking away. "Fine. Fine. We'll go by there, wait, and take you to the house."

"We'll be fast," Peabody promised.

"Yeah, yeah." She ignored Roarke's amused look, and put her mind back in work mode as he drove. "I want to talk to Stillwater again. He's not on the list, but he's in the group. He'll have impressions. It's a stupid murder. It gains nothing. And it's not the batshit kind, either. There's motive in there, specific target, but where's the gain?"

"Shauna can't marry a dead woman," Peabody pointed out.

"Yeah, and that's it. That's what we've got."

Roarke slid into a parking space outside the apartment building.

"How do you do that?" Eve demanded. "How do you just find parking right where we're going? What, do you bribe the parking gods?"

"Every chance I get."

"We'll be fast," Peabody promised as she and McNab climbed out. "We'll be lightning."

Eve watched them dash, hands linked, to the building.

"Friendships probe around, find the guilt, until you're waiting outside an apartment in a parked car."

Roarke patted her hand. "It won't take long. And consider this. Friendships, healthy or unhealthy, are very much a part of your investigation."

"They crisscross all over. But no one I've talked to, once I dig down a little, much liked Lopez. Erin must have. If it had just been sex, she'd have eased away over the last year. But she didn't. Everybody seems to like Barney, Mr. Helpful who hovers."

"From the sound of it, you don't."

"He was nervous," she muttered. "Why was he nervous? Okay, first, seeing me in the hall—a jolt. Not expected. But after."

"And you think there was something else in the box."

"I do. But I can't imagine what. We went through the place, and there was nothing incriminating. But he was nervous."

They weren't lightning, but fast enough as they came out, each carrying a box, lidded, as Barney had. Eve noted theirs were sealed and labeled as, from behind the wheel, Roarke popped the trunk.

"Big thanks," Peabody said as she slid back in the car. "Getting stuff over there this way's going to make the final move a lot easier, and we can put in more time helping next door."

"Don't want Mavis carting too much," McNab added. "And when August isn't there, somebody's gotta keep an eye on Bella."

Friendships, Eve thought again, they sucked you right in.

"Mavis tagged us as we were heading up," Peabody said. "Wanted to know if we'd make it tonight. She's juiced you're coming by. I told her you couldn't stay long. She gets it."

Well, that was something anyway.

The gates opened as they drove up, and there was the family, sitting in the brightly colored chairs on the big front porch. Bella, hair in two high tails on either side of her head, in bibbed shorts as blue as her eyes, popped out of her kid-sized chair.

Mavis didn't pop, but sort of levered herself up. Eve didn't know how—it hadn't been that long—but the belly under the snug green tee was bigger than ever.

The tee matched the color of the explosive topknot of hair and the swirls all over the white tennis shoes.

Leonardo, the gentle giant, took Mavis's hand and stood with her in a flowing sleeveless shirt and baggies that cropped at his ankles.

The minute Eve opened the car door, Bella shot off the porch.

"Das here! Das, Ork, Peadoby, Nab. Friends!"

That seemed to be the theme of the day, Eve decided as she caught the flying blond rocket.

"Hi, hi, hi!" Bella beamed and gave Eve an enthusiastic and sloppy kiss.

"I've got this, Peabody." Roarke lifted a box from the trunk.

"Thanks. You can just take it around to our side."

"We'll drop them off, take a look at the comm system," McNab told her. "We'll be lightning," he said to Eve.

She carted the now babbling Bella to the porch.

"I know you can't stay—bummer." She embraced Eve, sandwiching both the kid and the one yet to come between them. "But I made lemonade! I mean made-made from the recipe Summerset gave me. Who knew? And I totally, abso didn't screw it up, did I, moonpie?"

"It's delicious."

The pitcher, glasses, an ice bucket sat on a tray on a table.

"Sounds good."

"Das pray!"

Eve could only stare. "She wants me to pray? For what?"

"Bella." Mavis laughed as Leonardo poured out lemonade. "Pl-pl-pl."

"Pl-pl-pl-ay. Das play."

"Can't do that, either." Even if she knew how. "I have to go to work in a minute."

"Aww."

"Maybe just come inside a minute. See what you think. Let's show Dallas, baby girl of mine."

"See, see!" Bella scrambled down, and when Mavis opened the door, shot inside.

Lemonade in hand, Eve followed.

In the entrance the walls were… what were they? Eve wondered. Orange. But not like an actual orange or a pumpkin, but a deeper, maybe a softer tone that somehow worked against the thick, dark millwork.

Overhead, a many-armed light hung from a ceiling medallion. Most of the floor lay under some sort of protective paper, but what she could see gleamed.

"I love the light!"

Mavis grinned at Peabody. "I know! They just got it up today. They're nearly done in here."

The entrance gave way to the living area, walls the same color, evening sun still streaming in the windows. The fireplace, with its thick, carved frame, looked old, important. For the built-ins that flanked it, she'd chosen green—deep and soft again.

"I've got to have color. Just have to have it."

"I see that. And it works."

Rather than detracting from the old and important, the colors just enhanced that focus.

"It feels like home." Leonardo looked around with an expression of utter contentment. "Even without furniture, it's already home."

Eve remembered Peabody had said exactly the same.

"Roarke said we can start moving in furniture next week, in here for sure, which is beyond mag. And over in the parlor or sitting room. Over here."

Stroking her baby belly, she crossed the hall to a smaller space done in a rich, saturated blue.

"I think more like a den or whatever because the sofa I got for here says take a nap, and you can close the room off with the pocket doors."

"The lighting's really good," Peabody observed. "It's all coordinated but not matchy. It's modern, but it slides into the old with just the right tension."

"I had a lot of help. You, Leonardo, Roarke."

"It looks good," Eve said. "Really good. It looks like the three of you."

"Anybody home?" McNab's voice came through a speaker somewhere.

"They made it work!" Baby belly jiggled and swayed as Mavis bounced. She dashed over to a switch on the wall. "We're here! You fixed it! Big slooch!"

"Hi, hi, hi," Bella shouted. "Hi, Nab."

"Hey, Bellamini. Be right over."

Still bouncing, Mavis turned back. "McNab wanted to add that feature. The house-to-house dealie." She patted her mountain of belly. "He said they want to be on alert when Number Two decides it's time."

"Then for sure," Peabody agreed, and scooped Bella up. "And down the road, it's just convenience."

"Added security." Mavis rolled her eyes, but smiled. "I know you guys."

When Roarke and McNab came in, Bella deserted Peabody to launch at him.

"There's that pretty girl."

"Ork pretty," she said, and batted her eyes.

He laughed with her, then looked up. "Lights look just right, and I'll say the same about what I saw installed at your place, Peabody. Well done, all."

"Well done, all," Bella echoed, and batted her lashes again.

"Agreed, but we've got to go."

"Thanks for the lift," Peabody said. "Mega thanks."

"No problem."

"Come back." Mavis sandwiched again, fiercely. "When you've got real time. There's a lot more done, both sides, and too totally awesome. I want the Dallas seal of approval."

"You've already got it, but yeah, when I've got real time. And you rocked the lemonade," she said, and handed the glass back to her.

"I really did! Tell Summerset!"

"Somebody will."

"Here now, Bella, go to your da. We'll see you again soon."

"Bye, bye, bye. Bye-bye, Ork, bye-bye Das." She blew kisses from Leonardo's hip as they started out.

"There now." Roarke got behind the wheel. "That didn't take much time."

"Not much."

She glanced back. The whole group stood on the porch. Like family. Friends. All those connections crisscrossing.

"They're going to be stupid happy. They already are, but even more stupid happy. The house-to-house? Good idea."

"I didn't initially suggest it. Some might find it intrusive. They don't."

"They've merged. Yeah, they'll have their separate spaces, separate lives, and all that. But they've merged."

"And it's been lovely to watch. You're tense."

"Am I?" She circled her shoulders, felt the twinges. "Maybe some." She remembered she'd thought about a swim, but friendship had eaten that time away on her mental schedule.

"Tell me about today. It'll relax you to talk it out."

"It will. Is that weird?"

"It's you, Lieutenant. And when we're home, we'll add a glass of wine, a meal."

"I had pasta salad for lunch."

He glanced over. "Voluntarily?"

"Peabody did it. And considering how much hiking we've done around New York the past couple days, probably a good thing."

"Eating lunch isn't a sign of weakness."

"No, I just don't think about it most days. We stuffed a lot of walking and talking in this one," she said, and told him.

By the time they drove through their own gates, she had relaxed, at least a little.

"Wine wouldn't hurt," she decided. "I need to rearrange my board, write some things up, and I want to talk to Marcus Stillwater. But wine wouldn't hurt."

He took her hand as they walked to the house. "Any contact with dogs today?"

"None. I should be safe."

And when they walked in, the cat, sitting beside Summerset, padded over to ribbon through her legs.

"Late," Summerset noted, "but unbloodied."

"We ended up taking Peabody and McNab to the house," Roarke told him.

"Ah, and it's coming along beautifully, I thought. I had a tour today when I took over some lemons."

Instead of a snide remark, Eve felt obliged to tell him, "She did the lemonade. It worked."

"She's a quick study, Mavis."

Leaving it there, Eve started up the stairs.

"She feels pressed," Roarke observed, "but she made time for them."

"Love always finds a way. There's some nice barbecued chicken. It would go well with the fries the Lieutenant is so fond of."

"Then I'll see to it. Thanks."

He went up to find her already shed of her jacket and at her board.

"Want to do this first, want the visual. Then I want to contact Stillwater. Then—"

"Wine and a meal before the rest."

It seemed fair enough.

"Give me twenty."

"Twenty it is." And he went into his own office.

Once she had the visual, she stepped back, nodded.

She leaned where she leaned, she admitted. But she'd get Stillwater's take. Then see what she'd see at the memorial.

She needed a lot more than leaning.

At her command center, she tried Stillwater.

He answered right away.

"Lieutenant, is it done?"

"If you mean have we made an arrest, no."

His eyes went from hopeful to deflated. "I guess I hoped, when I saw your name on the display. I just left Angie's. We finally talked Shauna into eating something, and lying down awhile. Rough day for her."

"I'm sure it was. Who else was there?"

"At Angie's? I started to say the usual suspects, but that sounds really wrong given the circumstances. Angie, of course, Becca, Greg, Donna. Donna left when I did."

"I ran into Greg at Shauna's apartment building."

"Oh? He didn't mention it. I think he went by to clear out food. Shauna doesn't want to go back. I can't blame her."

She could see what she took to be his apartment behind him.

Pale gray wall, enormous screen flanked by darker gray shelves.

Like Roarke, he had real books.

"Mr. Stillwater—"

"Marcus. It's Marcus."

"Marcus, do you know ChiChi Lopez?"

"Sure, a little. Not really well. The family restaurant's great."

"Ever been to the club where she performs? Delights?"

"I actually haven't. I'm more hands-on getting a woman naked, I guess, but I've heard she's talented."

"Right. At the moment I'm asking for impressions. We can start with her."

"Okay, but like I said, I don't know her all that well. Sexy, confident, a little… hard isn't exactly the word. Edgy might be better."

"And her relationship with Erin?"

"That ended with Shauna—the sex part of it. Not that they didn't have a friendship after, or I guess I wouldn't have met her at all."

"Impressions again. How did she feel about Shauna, Shauna and Erin?"

"Impressions? Not especially warm." He hesitated, moving around as he did so she caught more pieces of his living space.

And what she believed was an Erin Albright cityscape.

"Okay, she didn't like Shauna. At least Shauna told me she didn't, and Shauna didn't much like her back. I think she told me rather than Becca or Erin because, well, I'm not one of the girls. Shauna didn't want to make waves. ChiChi was Erin's friend, and she didn't want to cause trouble between them."

He shrugged. "I figured the same. Why muck things up? And told her I thought it would smooth out as time went. You don't think ChiChi—"

"I'm just gathering impressions. What about Greg Barney?"

"I know him better. Nice guy. We don't hang much, but he's a nice guy. Really into fashion, schedules, but that's what he does. He and Becca have a good rhythm. He's like a big brother with Shauna, from my POV. Sometimes it crowded her—she told me—but he meant well. They had a thing back in high school."

"I'm aware."

"But there wasn't any animosity, not that I ever saw, or she ever told me. I think she would have. She and Becca are really tight. More good rhythm. That wouldn't happen if there were old scars, you know what I mean? So no scars, my impression, but a bond, between all three."

"He's aware you and Shauna had a sexual relationship?"

"Sure." Now he sat in a black scoop chair. "He didn't have a problem with it—not that I could tell anyway. Even when Shauna and I weren't planning on having sex, the four of us went out sometimes. To dinner, a club, just for drinks. He treated her more like a sister than an ex."

"Okay."

She took him through others in the group, to round it out. And decided he was observant, fairly insightful.

"I appreciate the time," she said when Roarke came in and walked to the wine cabinet. "It helps to get different perspectives on Erin's circle of friends."

"She had a wide one, and a good one, I think. I expect all of them will be at the memorial tomorrow. Shauna's going in with her parents and Erin's. I'm going to try to go in with Angie and Donna if I can juggle some things."

"Detective Peabody and I plan to come, pay our respects. Again, thanks for your time."

"Anything that helps, just let me know. She was my friend, too."

"I know, and I will. Goodbye."

Eve clicked off, sat back.

"Was that helpful?"

"Maybe. Maybe."

He opened a chilled bottle of sauvignon blanc. "You think you know."

"What I think I know toggles, but it's started to settle. I want my own impressions tomorrow at the memorial. Either way, it's a stupid fucking murder."

He poured two glasses, brought one to her. "Have some wine. Pace about with it as you need to. I'll see to dinner."

"There were vegetables in the pasta salad."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He went into the kitchen, followed by the hopeful cat.

Eve pushed up, and drank some wine.

And paced about.