Calculated in Death (In Death 36)

“Whee!” Peabody called out, and Eve heard the car engine rev. “Baxter’s got totally mag wheels.”

“Stop looking happy.”

“I’m working up some tears, because my boyfriend’s so mean to me.”

With a laugh in his voice, Baxter responded. “We’re rounding onto the block. Target’s in sight.”

“Give her room, everybody,” Eve ordered. “Give her time. McNab, let’s ease closer.”

When he signaled the driver, the van pulled out, joined the traffic flow.

Directly in front of Milo Easton’s building, Baxter peeled over to the curb. He sat, snarling in case Milo monitored the street. “At a stop,” he said while Peabody snarled and pouted back at him.

“Give him a show,” Eve directed.

“Sorry, Peabody.”

He grabbed her; she struggled. For a few minutes they wrestled in the front seat. She slapped him, pulling the contact at the last second.

“Sorry, Baxter.”

Face furious, eyes sheened with tears, Peabody shoved out of the car. She wrapped her arms protectively around her torso, and stood shivering—no coat, no bag. “You’re a big prick with a little dick,” she shouted.

Baxter shot a hand out of the window, speared up his middle finger, and sped off.

As instructed, Peabody chased the car for a few feet, teetering on high heels. “Come back here, you fucker! You’ve got my bag. You’ve got my ’link!”

She feigned a turned ankle, then began to limp back the way she came.

“That’s the way,” Eve guided when they picked her up on screen. “Pissed, but a little desperate. What do I do? Poor me. That’s good, spot the house, don’t even think about it. You need somebody to help you.”

Her heart hammered with excitement and a little panic. Don’t blow it, Peabody ordered herself. Don’t blow it.

She pressed a buzzer, pretended to search for the intercom. “Hello!” she shouted, trying for a raspy, sexy voice. “Is anybody home? Hello? I’m in trouble. Can you help me?” She angled herself toward the cam, leading with her chest and willed a couple of tears down her cheeks. “Hello? Can I use your ’link? Please.”

She shivered again, no need to feign that. She felt her nipples standing at attention, but maybe he wasn’t even in there. Maybe her girls were on display for nothing.

“It’s so cold. I don’t even have my coat. My boyfriend dumped me out without anything. Can’t somebody help me?”

“No way he could resist that,” McNab declared. “He must not be there.”

“Give it another minute.” One more minute, Eve thought, then she’d clear Roarke and McNab to do the probe and scan.

“There. Do you see that, Ian?”

“I see it.” McNab nodded at Roarke. “He’s in there.”

“How do you know?” Eve demanded.

“He’s doing a sweep.” McNab tapped his monitor. “Checking.”

“Can he make us?”

“No, we’re on the down-low. We’ll read as standard comm.”

“She can’t keep buzzing and calling. Peabody, you need to look like you’re giving up. Start to turn away, then just sit down on the step and blubber some.”

“What am I going to do?” Sniffling, Peabody knuckled a tear from under her eye. “I don’t know what to do.” She started to turn, then she heard it. The faintest hum from the intercom. Forcing herself not to react, she took another step away.