Golden in Death (In Death 50)

“We’r

e what I’d call work friends, but good ones in that area. We’ve had many discussions on literature since he came on board.”

He led them down the hall. “Is it possible for me to stay when you tell him? He was, from my view, very devoted to his wife, his family. They have two sons.”

“That’s kind of you, Mr. Mira.”

He shook his head at Peabody. “It’s just human.”

He opened a door into what was more of a closet than an office. It made Eve’s at Central look spacious, luxurious.

The two side walls were shelves, and the shelves were loaded with books, folders, some clear boxes holding discs and cubes.

The desk held more of everything.

Another guitar found a home in the corner behind the desk.

“Jay played in a band in high school. In college, too,” Dennis explained. “He likes to say that’s how he got his wife to look twice at him. The poor man.”

Now he glanced around the room. “I’m afraid there won’t be enough chairs. I can have another brought in, but don’t quite know where we’d put it.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“I suppose we’ll figure it out. I should go get him. We shouldn’t put it off. I’ll … just tell him he’s needed in his office. His TA can take the rest of his class.”

Dennis gave a last distracted look around, then went out and quietly closed the door.

“The sweetest man alive,” Peabody murmured as she took the two steps necessary to reach Jay’s desk. “A lot of work, a lot of clutter—but he made room for a family picture on his desk.”

She turned around. “What about the kids, Dallas?”

Eve shoved a hand through her hair. “See who’s free in the bullpen. They should check, find a teacher who’s good with both of them. Two teachers if necessary. And get them all somewhere private to notify them. It’d be worse if cops went in, just took them out of class, over to the grandparents. That would be worse.”

“I think you’re right. I’ll go out and set it up. Should I wait until we notify Duran?”

“No, get it going. Something might leak, someone might say something.”

Alone, Eve wondered how anyone managed to work in a room without a window. Then she wondered, with all of those books … Maybe they were his window.

She heard the door open, made her face blank.

He was a good-looking man with pale gold hair, pale blue eyes. Taller than Mr. Mira, younger, he dressed more casually with a shirt untucked, no tie, worn sneakers.

But he had an air—Eve caught it immediately—like Dennis, of kindness, intellect, and just a little vagueness.

“Hello.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid I’ve completely forgotten an appointment.”

“We didn’t have one, Mr. Duran. I’m Lieutenant Dallas, with the NYPSD.”

“I—Eve Dallas? Of course, I saw the vid with my family. I read the book. It was just marvelous. It’s a thrill to…” Something clicked and his delighted smile vanished. “What’s happened?”

“I regret to inform you, your wife has been killed. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“What?”

Anger tinged disbelief. Eve recognized it, as it often came first in notifications.

“That’s ridiculous. Is this a prank? It’s not funny, not a bit. Elise is home. She has a book club meeting. You’ve made a mistake.”