“I’d say he was probably talented, and even talent can be sick.”
Because it made her uncomfortable, she turned away from the figures and approached the door. Even with the codes and clearance Reva had provided, it took some time and some trouble to access entry.
The door opened into a kind of atrium with tinted sky windows three floors up, and slick ocean blue tiles for the floor.
There was a fountain in the center of the space, burbling as the half man, half fish figures that circled it vomited violently into the pool.
The walls were mirrored, tossing back their reflections dozens of times. Rooms fanned off from this center, through wide, doorless rectangles.
“This doesn’t fit her,” Eve said. “I’d say he picked the place and the decor, and she went along.”
Peabody looked up, studied the nightmarish bird sculptures hanging high in the air. They looked like they were circling over a meal. “Would you?”
“I don’t fit where I live either.”
“That’s not true.”
Eve shrugged, cautiously circled the fountain. “I didn’t when I moved into it. Okay, it’s not like this. It’s beautiful, and it’s livable, and it’s, well, it’s warm. But it was Roarke’s place. It’s still more his than mine, and that’s okay.”
“She really loved him.” The place gave Peabody the creeps, which she didn’t bother to hide. “If she could live here because he wanted it, she had to really love him.”
“That’s my take,” Eve agreed.
“I’ll find the kitchen, verify the murder weapon was taken from here.”
Eve nodded, and using the blueprint Reva had drawn for her, started upstairs.
She’d been sleeping, Eve thought. Heard the gate bell. Got up, checked the security screen. Saw the package.
She paused by a sheer window that looked down over a stone and metal garden. Nothing living, she mused. Nothing real.
Got up, she continued, went down and out to retrieve the package. Took a scanner, checked the contents for explosives. Careful, cautious woman.
Brought the package back inside.
Eve entered the master bedroom and saw the first signs of life in the house. There were more mirrors, silvery panels of them on one wall, more forming a double door. The bed, wide as a canyon, was unmade, with a nightshirt tossed into a tangle over in one corner. One closet door was open—Reva’s closet, Eve noted after a glance.
She’d opened the package, sat on the bed when her legs gave out from under her, Eve imagined. Looked at the photographs again and again while her brain tried to compute the me
aning. Studied the receipts. Went to the data center across the room, loaded the discs.
Some pacing, Eve was sure. That’s what she’d’ve done. Paced, cursed, shed a few tears of rage. Tossed something breakable.
And she noted, with some satisfaction, the shards of glass in the far corner.
Okay, then it’s time for action. Dress, gather the tools. Work out the plan in your head in between rages and more curses.
It took, what, an hour, an hour tops, from the time she opened the package until she headed out.
Eve turned to the bedroom ’link, and replayed the transmissions for the last twenty-four hours.
There was one from Felicity that was timed in at fourteen hundred.
Hi, Reev. I know you’re at work, but I hate to bother you there. Just wanted to let you know I’ve got a hot date tonight. Hoping we can get together Friday or Saturday. I’ll spill all the dirty deets. Be a good girl while Blair’s away. Or if you’re not, tell me everything. Ciao!
Eve froze the visual and took a hard look at Felicity Kade. The wealthy, stylish bombshell type, Eve mused. Blonde and rosy, with ice-edged cheekbones and a full, seductive mouth. Eyes so deeply blue they were nearly purple, with a tiny black mole at the outside tip of the left.
Eve was willing to bet she’d paid plenty for the face.