“I got you a Go Bar, tide you over. Nadine’s up for a meet—in fact, she said she had stuff to talk to you about, and wanted lunch.”
“Lunch? Why can’t she just come here?”
“She’s juiced about something, Dallas. Wants you to meet her at Scentsational, at noon.”
“Where?”
“Oh, it’s a real hot spot. She must be able to pull fat strings to get a reservation. I’ve got the address. She asked me to come, too, so…”
“Sure, sure. Why the hell not. Just us freaking girls.”
* * *
Chapter 11
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THOUGH THE SWEEPER’S REPORT ON HIDEY HOLE told her the locks and security had been tampered with, Eve went to the scene herself and met with the owner.
His name was Roy Chancey, and he was just as pissed to be hauled out of bed as he was with the break-in.
“Probably kids. Mostly is.” He scratched the paunch of his belly, yawned, and gave her a good whiff of breath that had yet to be refreshed.
“No, it wasn’t kids. Give me your whereabouts between seven and nine this morning.”
“In my Christing bed, where d’ya think? Don’t close ‘til three. Time I get locked up and hit the sheets, it’s damn near four. I sleep days. Nothing out there but sun and traffic days anyway.”
“You live upstairs.”
“ ‘S’right. Got a dance studio second floor, apartments on three and four.”
“Alone? You live alone, Chancey?”
“ ‘S’right. Look, why’d I wanna break into my own place?”
“Good question. Do you know this woman?” She showed him Trudy’s ID photo.
She gave him credit for taking a good look. Cops and bartenders, Eve thought. They knew how to make people.
“Nope. She the one got pulled in here?”
“Nope. She’s the one got dead a couple days ago.”
“Hey, hey, hey!” His rheumy eyes finally showed some life. “Nobody got dead in my place. Some might mix it up a little now and then, but nobody gets dead.”
“How about this one? You know her?” She offered Zana’s ID.
“No. Jesus, she dead, too? What’s the deal?”
“What time does the dance studio open?”
“Like eight. Closed on Monday, though, thank Christ. Nothing but noise otherwise.”
* * *
“He’s not in it,” Peabody said when they stepped outside.
“Nope.” On the street, Eve studied the building, the ground-level door, the exterior. “Easy enough to pick out. Locks were crappy, security crappier. Minimal skill required to get in.”