Echoes in Death (In Death 44)

“Absolutely.”

“You could so be her stand-in for The Icove Agenda. I mean you look just like her Eve Dallas character. Are you her stand-in?”

“No.”

Eve escaped the elevator, took another down to the garage.

She got in the car, began a run on Kyle Knightly. And sent Peabody a long stare when her partner climbed in.

“Why do you have blue eyelashes?”

“They make my eyes pop, and it’s just a hint of blue. Mags gave me a professional daytime look.”

“That’s so special.”

“It was for me,” Peabody muttered. “Plus I got to meet one of my favorite screen stars, and interview two of the top studio makeup artists. One of them also does the specialty work—like on Planet Plague.”

“Zombies.”

“Yeah, I love that show. Scares the crap out of me, but I love it. They have everything our UNSUB would need, right in studio. I’ve got a handful of names to run. Plus, Mags’s good friend Uma in Wardrobe half dated Hugh—Jacko’s nephew—a few months ago.”

“Half dated?”

“They went out a couple of times, but it didn’t click. She clicked more with his friend Anson—bartender at Jacko’s—and they’re semi-dating now.”

Eve concluded semi-dating was more serious than half dating. “Maybe it was worth the blue lashes.”

“I’m buying this lash color, you can bet on it. And did you hear? Our vid’s up for major Oscars!”

“Peabody.”

“It’s mega, Dallas. Nadine has to be zooming out of orbit. She could win a fricking Oscar. I’ve got to text her.”

“Peabody.”

“Later. I’ll text her later. Run the names now.”

“Good plan.”

“It was exciting, sitting there getting my makeup done right next to Adrianna Leo, and she was really nice. Mags said she’s total earth. Just like Wendy Rush is a total bitch—and she always plays a sweet thing, but she’s completely not. And how Joe P. Foxx is not only frosted cream, but is always showing off pictures and little vids of his kids. Devoted family guy, which makes him frostier.”

“Mags likes to gossip.”

“Which is how I got the data on the wardrobe pal dating two of Jacko’s crew, and a lot of info on makeup, who does what, where they get it, how accessible it is. Mags is strictly in studio, but they have several artists who work location shoots or travel with the crew for exterior shots. Some are freelance and move from project to project, company to company, but some are contracted to On Screen.”

Peabody shook her head as she studied her handheld. “And my top choice isn’t going to fit. Mags said this Max Bloombaum was the ace at monster makeup and prosthetics, which is why they contracted him to create the makeup for Planet Plague. He’s sixty-three, height six-two, married, three kids, two grandkids.”

“Too tall, too settled for the profile. Finish my run on Kyle Knightly.”

“Does he ring for you?”

“He’s connected to the first vics, has used the caterer and the rental company, has access to the necessary makeups and effects. His alibi is a house droid.”

Eve drummed her fingers on the wheel. “He comes off as sincere, concerned, emotionally attached to the Patricks. But he runs about five-eight, knows their house, would easily know their plans. Not married, lives alone.”

“I’m on it— Wait.” She switched to her ’link. “Detective Peabody. Yes, Mr. Brinkman, thanks for getting back to me. That would be fine. We’ll come to you now. Yes, sir, we will. Thank you.”

Leaning forward, Peabody programmed the Brinkmans’ address in the in-dash. “They’re home now, ready to talk to us.”