Eve got in, felt the seat perfectly conform to her specifications—and as Peabody got in and sighed, Eve knew the passenger seat did the same for her partner.
“It’s Roarke,” Eve said simply, and engaged the codes.
Good morning, Lieutenant. Your AutoChef is fully stocked, and your personal settings already programmed. Feel free to change anything that does not suit. If you wish to proceed directly to Lester Hensen Preparatory, those directions are also pre-programmed for your convenience.
Of course they were, she thought, because Roarke. “How about Party Elegance?”
Yes, this destination is also pre-programmed, as is Kendel Hayward’s residence. Simply request your chosen destination, and the GPS will engage.
“He doesn’t miss a trick,” Eve murmured. “Lester Hensen Prep.”
Acknowledged. GPS engaged. Map displayed. Please have a safe and enjoyable drive to your selected destination.
She decided after three minutes of driving in East Washington that she seriously needed the computer prompts. Why did everything circle around? What was wrong with straight roads? Had they never heard of a damn grid?
“It’s so pretty,” Peabody said beside her as she opened the window for the breeze. “All the trees, the monuments, the flowers. It’s solid spring here—just enough south of New York to be solidly spring. The grass is so green.”
“Jesus, Peabody, the traffic’s worse than New York.”
It wasn’t really, but she didn’t know this traffic. And felt only sweet relief when she drove along the high iron fence that enclosed Lester Hensen Prep.
She turned in the entrance, blocked by a gate with a gatehouse and an actual gatekeeper. A droid, she noted once he stepped out.
“How can I help you?”
Eve held up her badge. “Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody. We have an appointment, police business, with Headmaster Grange.”
He scanned her badge, checked his log. “Please bear left at the split, proceed to visitor parking, administration. You will be met and escorted to Headmaster Grange’s offices.”
“Great.”
The gates opened; Eve drove through.
15
The campus boasted, Eve had to admit, a lot of green. Sweeps of lawn, trees already in tender leaf. In the distance, she could see a number of kids in shiny red and white tanks and shorts running around a wide oval.
Likely track practice, she mused. She’d done some running in state school, a good outlet for her, as she could run and imagine herself going and going and going until she was free.
The buildings—brick, dignified, columned—had been built to look old, as if they’d weathered a couple of centuries. But her research tagged them as post-Urban construction.
From what she remembered of her history classes, the Urban Wars had done a number on what had been Washington, D.C. After all, it had been, and continued to be, the center of political power. Granting it statehood about the time she’d been born hadn’t changed that.
She made her way to the correct parking area, took a good look at the main building with LESTER HENSEN PREPARATORY SCHOOL carved over the massive double doors.
A fountain, separating the lot from the road that circled the building, arced water into the
air. On its island, red and white flowers spelled out L H P.
“Formidable” was Peabody’s impression.
“Yeah, that works.”
“Well, a lot of lawyers, judges, political types matriculate here.”
“That’s not a plus from my viewpoint.”
Peabody laughed as they got out of opposite sides of the car in a breeze appreciably warmer than the one they’d left in New York.