Vendetta in Death (In Death 49)

“Yes, sir. I was immediately available and dispatched to ensure you weren’t required to wait for another replacement. I am, of course, fully programmed and licensed as a chauffeur. Your car is just out here.”

“All right, all right. I don’t have time to waste.”

“Exactly so.” The droid rolled the bag toward the car, opened the rear passenger door.

Brinkman saw the woman as he started to climb in. “And who would you be?”

“I’m Selina, sir. The company sent you a companion to compensate for the trouble.” She offered a hand, injected the drug into Brinkman’s palm.

“Not another droid, are you?” he demanded, already slurring his words.

“Not at all.” She offered him a glass of wine. “Flesh and blood, just like you.”

He was out cold before the car pulled away from the center.

“Stop by the salon, Wilford, then we’ll go to the market.”

“Yes, Ms. Pettigrew.”

“Afterward, you’ll take him in the usual way. Chain him up.”

“Of course, Ms. Pettigrew.”

“I gave him enough to keep him out for a few hours, so when you’re done, you can shut down.”

“As you wish.”

Yes, she thought. Just as she wished.

Between interviews, Eve had Peabody relay the results, give her the names, information. She did the runs, checked alibis herself—and found the loan officer who coerced or attempted to coerce female applicants to provide him with blow jobs for loan approval a strong candidate.

Maybe he’d—finally—lost his job and done six months in a cage, but she doubted that would be enough for Lady Justice.

When a hollow-eyed Peabody came in, Eve rose. “Run this one for me on the way.”

“Where?”

“We’re going to pay Darla Pettigrew another visit. A follow-up, we’ll call it,” Eve said as she grabbed her coat. “I’m going to spring you after, but I want the sympathetic element there.”

“I’m so frigging full of sympathy it’s giving me heartburn. I’ve got brothers, Dallas.” They stopped at Peabody’s desk for her jacket. “I’ve got an amazing dad, uncles, cousins. I’ve got McNab. Roarke, Leonardo, Charles, the guys in the bullpen. I know men aren’t all pigs and users. But, Jesus, these men? I don’t have bad enough words.”

“They’re going to pay. Not with their lives, but they’re going to pay.”

“I think it’s hearing it, one after another, all in a kind of horrible lump that’s hit me, you know? We see worse, we know worse, but this is one after another.”

“They’ll pay,” Eve said again, and forced herself to stay in the elevator all the way

down to the garage. “When we’re done with Darla, go home.”

“I can stick,” Peabody told her. “I can see it through.”

“There’s not much to see through, and there might be later tonight. I’ve got Baxter and Trueheart to sit on the Callahan residence. If she heads out tonight, I’ll pull you in.”

“What are you doing after Darla?”

“I’m going to have a talk with Linus Brinkman. I don’t need you on that. No sympathy factor required. I’ve dumped names on SVU, and I’ve got Nadine sniffing out what can be sniffed on Ryder Cooke. I have a feeling he’s going to get a surprise when he comes back to New York.”

“This is making me feel better,” Peabody decided when they crossed the garage to the car. “This last one? She goes to stay with her sister after her ex-boyfriend puts her in the hospital. And he’s in the wind, so they can’t find him. Then her sister’s little dog is poisoned. A little dog, Dallas. And the sister’s car gets its tires slashed, the windshield busted. Has a rock thrown through the living room window, shit like that.”