“Bypass that, will you?” She gestured Roarke toward the security station while Peabody tagged McNab.
“We’re wrapping it. Yeah. I’ll tell you later. Tag Feeney, okay? Dallas says we can go tonight. Yeah, tonight. Woo! I know, I know.”
Eve rolled her eyes at the un-coplike giggle, but she smiled, just a little.
“No, no, stop talking, start packing. Totally, totally. Mag!” Peabody ended with a long, loud kissing sound.
“Sorry,” she said to Eve.
“We will never speak of it.”
With Roarke grinning, Eve swiped her master to call the elevator. “Eighth floor,” she ordered. “Engage recorders. He’s not going to want to open the door when he sees me. If he refuses, you can take care of that,” she said to Roarke.
“Happy to assist.”
“He’s eight-eleven.” The elevator opened and, as they stepped out, she saw a woman, mid-thirties, bold red coat, a tumble of blond hair, step out of eight-oh-six.
“Excuse me.” Eve held up her badge.
“Oh!” The woman’s attractive face displayed the typical unease when faced unexpectedly with the police.
“Do you know Bill Hyatt—eight-eleven?”
“I … yes. A little. Not really know, but—”
“Do me a favor? Just ring his bell.”
“Um … all right.”
“Spoilsport,” Roarke commented as they moved down the hall.
The blonde rang the bell.
“Just stand there and smile a minute. Thanks.”
So the blonde worked up a slightly nervous smile.
The door opened. Hyatt, obviously fresh out of the shower with his hair still a little damp, the scent of manly pine wafting, beamed. “Hey, Cynthia. What can I—”
“Thanks,” Eve said, nudged the blonde aside, put a shoulder against the open door. “William Hyatt, we are duly authorized and warranted to enter and search these premises.” She showed the badge she still held. “Remember me? Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. NYPSD.”
Though he tried to shove the door closed as she spoke, she muscled her way in, along with Roarke and Peabody.
“This is outrageous!”
“Yeah, it is, and it gets better. William Hyatt, you’re under arrest on suspicion of murder—that’s first degree, two counts. You weren’t going to get away with Mars, Bill, but you had a better shot before you killed Kellie Lowry.”
The blonde in the hall gave a little squeak of shock before Peabody closed the door.
Maybe Eve took her time rather than moving straight in to restrain him. And was rewarded when he turned, ran.
“Really?” She let out a little (somewhat pleased) sigh as a door slammed. “I’ve got this.”
“Let her have the moment.” Roarke patted Peabody’s arm. “She’s still working through being pissed.”
Eve walked back to the door, angled her head. Interior door, she thought. Not much of a challenge.
And kicked it in.