Vendetta in Death (In Death 49)

He might find it insulting, but he thought like a cop. A good cop. Since he would find it insulting, Eve didn’t mention it.

“Yeah, there’s that. But you know Justice Warrior has a ring, Justice Seeker, and so on. Non-gender specific. She’s proud of being, you know, a lady.”

“Ah, well there you have a fine point. It’s back to Women For Women, isn’t it then?”

“That’s how I see it.” She studied the house as they rolled through the gates. “What’s a lady with a penis?”

“Possibly conflicted.”

“No, I mean a guy lady—the male version.”

“If I’m following, I suppose a lord.”

“Yeah, that could fit you.”

“I’d as soon not be a lady with a penis, if it’s all the same.”

“Forget that part.”

“Happily.”

“Lords sort of rule their domain. It’s a strong word, lord. Lady—I go back to wuss. But not in the killer’s mind. It’s something to be proud of.”

“You’re circling back to Darla Pettigrew.”

Yes, she thought, but wondered how he saw it. “Why do you figure that?”

“Well-mannered, well-bred. You could even add a kind of rank as the granddaughter of a legendary star. Caring enough to help a fellow group member.”

Yeah, he thought like a cop.

“It depends, doesn’t it, on if she sees herself that way.”

When he parked, she got out of the car, walked to the door with him. “I’m going to nail down those names, get that going. Are you interested in poking into somebody’s business?”

“My favorite game.”

“Both Eloise and Darla are licensed to drive. None of the vehicles registered to Eloise fit the description of the one seen at the club or the Pettigrew house. There’s no vehicle currently registered in Darla’s name—not her married name, not her birth name. But maybe she’s got herself a couple of buried accounts, maybe a vehicle registered under another name that goes with them.”

She shrugged out of her coat, tossed it over the newel post. “You up for that?”

“Delighted—with a caveat?”

“It that a sex euphemism?”

“Not in this case.” He took her hand as they walked upstairs. “You’ve had a handful of hours of sleep the past two nights combined. You get your names confirmed, get Peabody started on the interviews. I look into this.”

“I don’t see the caveat.”

“No coffee—and you’re in bed, sleeping, inside two hours.”

“How am I supposed to work without coffee?”

He gave her a pat on the butt. “Inner strength.”

While Eve worked and Roarke poked, Arlo Kagen sat on his usual barstool in his usual bar drinking his usual beer and a bump.

In fact his third beer and bump of the evening. The bar—a hole-in-the-wall called Nowhere—served cheap greasy food the booze helped slide down.