Not as sorry as Loxie Flash, Eve thought, and took an evidence bag from the field kit.
“Peabody just came in—with McNab.”
“Good.” She slid the five-dollar bill into the bag, marked and sealed it.
“What can I do?”
“Doubtful there are any cams in here. Take the outside surveillance, find her. I can put McNab on her personal devices. Peabody.”
Face pink from the cold, Peabody stepped up. “Which one is it?”
“Loxie Flash. Order in a screen, then round up anyone seated near VIP-4—Flash’s table—start on statements and contacts and releases. Hold anyone who had contact with or a good line of sight on the redhead. Leave Glazier and his group—we need to interview him separately. I’m going to start with the waitstaff and her table companions.”
“Glaze is here, too?”
“Yeah. Was that a bonus, or did she manage to arrange it? McNab, the uniforms have the vic’s purse, coat. Check her pocket ’link. I spoke with her earlier this evening, and left a v-mail that will likely time in after or around her TOD. See who and what else.”
“I’ve got it.”
Eve started on the waitstaff, got nowhere. No sightings until the dash. She walked back to the first on scene.
“Where are the people who were at the DB’s table?”
“We stowed them up in a privacy room, but had to put a man on the door. Bunch of assholes, Lieutenant, to tell the truth on it.”
“I guess they fit right in then. Names?”
He checked his notebook, and she transferred the names to hers. She started for the stairs, stopped when McNab hailed her.
He jogged over on his plaid snowboots. “You’re going to want to see her last text. It came in about twenty after your conversation with her.”
She took the ’link, read.
“Just couldn’t say no and stay the fuck home.”
“It’s from a Janis Dorsey.”
“One of her group. At least that keeps it simple. She’s upstairs. I’ll talk to her now. Roarke’s got the door cams. You can help with statements and contacts. I need to clear out most of these people before I start on the DB.”
“Roger that. Screen’s on the way.”
“Give me a buzz when it gets here.” She went upstairs and to the uniform on one of the privacy room doors. Saw it was Shelby from her own division.
“Stick around, Officer.”
“Yes, sir. Sir, they were half-stoned when we herded them in there.”
“Won’t this be fun?”
Eve went in. Two males, three females, she noted. One of the males and one of the females were currently tongue diving each other. The male’s hand squeezed the female’s exposed left breast with its glitter-painted nipple.
The lot of them may have been half-stoned when they’d entered the room, but they’d crossed the finish line.
“I can see you’re all grieving over the loss of your friend.”
A female with half a mile of blond hair scattered with pink braids smiled glassily. “Loxie puked and went plop, right on the floor.”
The female beside her who’d chosen swirls of black-and-white body paint in lieu of pants giggled.