“I’m tagging him. Peabody, wake up Carmichael. I want her and Santiago working their angle now. Bring them up to speed.”
“Where do you want me? I feel like deadweight,” Banner admitted.
Eve brought up the map. “Those are the snatch points, and the dump site. My guess is Mulligan was impulse, so their hole’s close to that. I want a list of souvenir shops in that area.”
“Souvenirs?”
“Do you plan to go home without one?”
He smiled, sheepish. “Peabody said how she could score me an NYPSD sweatshirt, and maybe a hoodie. And my mama collects snowglobes. Don’t ask me why, she just likes them. I figured I’d find one before I left.”
He nodded. “We don’t see them as from here, so they’d want souvenirs.”
“And when we make them, we start showing their pictures around to the places you list. Takeout places, too, Banner, while you’re at it. Deliveries would be chancy, but you can get food, any kind of food, and cart it home with you. I’m betting neither of them is much of the domestic type. And like Roarke said, a man’s got to eat. Women, too.”
“I’ll get started.”
“Want one more?”
“I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”
“Pawnshops, secondhand shops. They need money for food and souvenirs, right? Electronics would be the first and easiest. But we’ve got a file of what Kuper and Campbell were wearing when they were taken. And I’ve got one now on Mulligan. If they liked the clothes and they fit, they’d keep them. But if they didn’t, they’ll sell them.
>
“Get a plate,” she suggested. “Work and eat.”
She went to her desk, contacted Feeney.
His hangdog face seemed a little baggier, his explosion of silver-threaded ginger hair a bit more electrified. But since he hadn’t blocked video, she assumed he wasn’t still in bed.
“Wait,” he said, and glugged what she knew was coffee from a bright red mug. “What?”
“We’ve caught a break on the spree killers. I’ve got some security feed from a loading dock cam.”
“Those cams are crap.”
“Yeah, which is why I’m asking if you can give me some time on it. Roarke and McNab are already on it, at the home lab. We’ve got a decent image of the vehicle, some partials on the unsubs. Maybe part of a plate, and some sort of rear window sticker. We’ve got them taking out the latest vic.”
“The girl?”
“She’s not the latest. They got one last night. Male, just turned twenty-one. No word if they dumped Campbell’s body, but it’s early.”
“Tell me.” He rubbed one of his baggy eyes. “I can be there inside thirty. Put the coffee on.”
“You got it. Thanks. Peabody,” she said the minute she clicked off. “Status.”
“Carmichael and Santiago have a couple of lines to tug. One they’ve got a buzz over, but they crapped out on it last night. Hitting it again this morning.”
Peabody shoveled in some eggs. “Bubba’s Body Shop, Towing and Pies.”
Eve started to speak, thought again, then shook her head. “You’re making that up.”
“Hand to God.” Peabody took a moment to lay one hand over her heart, raise the other. “Carmichael says Bubba’s wife makes the pies, and Bubba and their son run the rest. She and Santiago got a guilt vibe off the son, but they aren’t giving it up.”
“They need to get the son on his own.”
“That’s the plan.”