“Huh?”
“Gay, Peabody.”
“Uh-uh. Why?”
“Could be bi.” With another shrug Eve leaned against the wall. “Either way, he’s got a serious man crush on his boss.”
“I didn’t get that. I did not get that.”
“Because you were too busy being sizzled. Myself, I was practically buried in the unrequited love/lust vibes. Sizzling Leopold had them in check, until Forrest fell apart. Must be tough.”
“Maybe the love/lust isn’t unrequited?”
Eve shook her head. “Forrest is clueless to that part of it. Didn’t even notice Leopold’s quick flinch when he mentioned sleeping with the alibi. Let’s run the sizzler, too.” She pushed off the wall as the doors slid open. “Love makes you do the wacky.”
Yes, indeed it did, she thought a moment later when she saw Roarke leaning casually on her we’re-on-a-budget police vehicle. Tall, lean, with a mane of black hair framing a face blessed by the gods, he shifted those killer blue eyes toward her. It was ridiculous, she thought, to feel that burn in the belly, that thump of the heart over a look—but no more ridiculous than a man who owned a fat chunk of the known universe passing the time on his PPC while he loitered in a parking garage.
He slipped the PPC into his pocket, smiled. “Lieutenant. Hello, Peabody.”
“Shouldn’t you be upstairs buying Alaska?”
“I did that last week. I got wind cops were in the house. What can I do for the NYPSD that I haven’t already done?”
Oh yeah, she thought, the voice was another killer, hinting of Ireland’s misty green hills. And she supposed she should have known he’d get wind. Nothing got by Roarke.
“This one isn’t on you, since you’re alibied for the time in question.”
“Pretty solid,” Peabody put in, “sleeping with the primary.” At Eve’s cool stare, Peabody hunched. “Just saying.”
Roarke grinned at her. “And the primary was up and out early as duty called.” He looked back at Eve. “So who’s dead then?”
“Thomas A. Anders of Anders Worldwide.”
The grin faded. “Is he? Well, that’s a shame.”
“You knew him?”
“A bit. Liked what I knew well enough. You’ve been up to his office then, seen Ben—Benedict Forrest.”
“Points for you. How well do you know Forrest?”
“Casually. He’s a casual sort of man. Agreeable, and smarter than a lot take him for.”
“How about the widow?”
Roarke cocked his head. “Seems we’re having ourselves an interview after all. You should’ve come up, and we’d have done this in more pleasant surroundings.”
“I have to get to the morgue.”
“How many men are married to women who say that routinely, I wonder? Well.” He glanced at his wrist unit. “As it happens, I have some business downtown. You could give me a lift, and question me ruthlessly along the way.”
The idea had its merits. Eve uncoded the car. “You can ride as far as the morgue, then you’re on your own.”
“Again, how many are as blessed as I?” He opened the door for Peabody, but she waved him on.
“I’ll take the back. I’ve got work anyway.”
“Track down Forrest’s alibi first,” Eve ordered, then took the wheel.