Survivor in Death (In Death 20)

“We need to speak to Rangle,” Eve said and pulled out her badge for form.

“Dave’s not in yet. He in trouble?”

“When do you expect him?”

“He’ll swing in any minute. Early bird. We don’t open for business until nine.” She made a point to gesture to the clock. “Still nearly an hour shy.”

“That makes you an early bird, too.”

The woman smiled, toothily. “I like coming in early, when it’s quiet. I get a lot done.”

“What do you do here?”

“Me, personally? Manage the office, assist. I’m a paralegal. What’s up with Dave?”

“We’ll wait for him.”

“Suit yourself. He’s got an appointment at . . .” She turned to a data unit, tapped the screen with short, square-shaped nails painted gold like the streaks in her hair. “Nine-thirty. But he likes to get here, line up his ducks beforehand like me. Should be in soon.”

“Fine.” Because she wanted Peabody off her feet, Eve gestured her partner to the chairs, then leaned casually on the reception counter. “And you’d be?”

“Sade Tully.”

“Got an eye for cops, Sade?”

“Mother’s on the job.”

“That so? Where?”

“Trenton. She’s a sergeant, city beat. My grandfather, too. And his daddy before him. Me, I broke tradition. Seriously, is Dave in trouble?”

“Not that I know of. Anybody else here, in the office?”

“Dave’s assistant isn’t due until ten. Health appointment. Receptionist generally clocks in about quarter to nine. Grant Swisher, Dave’s partner, should be in pretty soon. Grant’s between assistants, so I’m filling in that slot. We got a droid clerk, but I haven’t activated it yet today. Law student comes in about noon—after class—today. Well, if you’re going to hang, you want coffee?”

“I would. We would,” Eve corrected. “Thanks.”

“No prob.” Sade popped up, walked two steps to an AutoChef. “How you take it?”

“Black for me, sweet and light for my partner.” As she spoke, Eve wandered, gave herself the chance to study the setup. Friendlier than most law offices, she decided. Little touches of hominess in the toys, the cityscape wall art. “How long’s your mother been on the job?”

“Eighteen. She freaking loves it, except when she hates it.”

“Yeah, that’s the way.”

Eve turned when the outer door opened.

The man who came in was black and trim, in a trendy suit of rusty brown with pencil thin lapels and a flashy striped tie. He carried a jumbo cup of takeout coffee in one hand, and was biting into a loaded bagel.

He made a mmm sound, nodded to Eve and Peabody, winked at Sade. “Minute,” he managed with his mouth full, then swallowed. “Morning.”

“Cops, Dave. Want to talk to you.”

“Sure. Okay. Wanna come back?”

“We would. Sade, would you join us?”

“Me?” The paralegal blinked, then something came into her eyes. A knowledge of trouble, bad trouble. She might have broken tradition, Eve thought, but she had cop in the blood. “Something happened. Did something happen to Grant?”