Connections in Death (In Death 48)

“You don’t wanna get walked over, don’t be a doormat.” After a pat on Eldena’s shoulder, Lisa continued upstairs.

“I asked Lisa to come over. We were supposed to work last night, but she said we’d take a mental health break, and we drank a lot. Before that, I made Sam leave. I said he had to go somewhere else last night so I could think. We had a big fight about it, but I made him leave. Later, Pete—he’s a lawyer—he said that was good because possession is nine-tenths and all that. And how I should have the locks changed.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Eldena rose, scrubbed her face with her hands as she walked down to Eve. “I’ve got a locksmith guy coming this morning. Sam, he tagged me and said how he’d been arrested, and I had to help. How he’d need me to post bail, and … I told him to suck it.”

“Wise words.”

“I was so mad, and I’d had wine, and Leese was here helping me stay mad. Should I contact Pete? It’s really early.”

“You can do that. I’m going to tell you…” Eve trailed off as the buzzer sounded. “That’s going to be my partner and an e-detective.”

“Oh God.”

“We have a search warrant.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded and went to open the door.

McNab’s eyes popped—Eve gave him credit for keeping his tongue from landing on his airboots.

“This is Detective Peabody and Detective McNab,” Eve said. “Detective McNab will access your electronics. If you have the passcodes, that would save time.”

“I only have my ’link and my PPC—and the separate tablet I use for working on choreography. They’re not passcoded. I—I—I don’t know Sam’s passcodes. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Detective Peabody, why don’t you go upstairs with Ms. Vinn, get those devices while she gets dressed. She has a friend upstairs getting coffee.”

“Sure. Ms. Vinn?”

“Okay, ah, the tablet’s back in my studio, but the rest is upstairs. I think maybe I should contact Pete, even though it’s early.”

“Go ahead. Detective McNab and I will start down here.”

“All right. Oh, Sam’s office? He locks it. I don’t have the key or the codes or any damn thing.”

“I have a master.” Eve waited until Peabody escorted Eldena upstairs. “If you drool, I won’t wait for Peabody to kick your ass.”

Deliberately, McNab swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. His grin was as bright and shiny as the range of hoops along his earlobe.

“You gotta look. Where do you want me to start?”

“We’ll take the office.” Since Cohen had come from the back, she gestured.

McNab pranced along beside her in his airboots, his knee-length electrified blue coat flapping over his egg-yolk-yellow baggies.

“She-Body caught me up. You figure the guy’s linked to the murders, and right now you’ve got him on fraud and shit.”

“And it’s a lot of shit.” Eve glanced toward the studio—two mirrored walls, a shelf holding bottles of water, a few rolled-up towels, and a little table.

“Her tablet’s there on the table. We’ll wait on that.”

She turned instead to the locked door, mastered her way through.

Workstation, she noted, holding an upscale D and C unit, a nice fake leather desk chair. Office AC, friggie, wall screen. She spotted a half bath through an open door.

“He’s got a lot more space than she does,” McNab commented.

“He’s a dick as well as a crook. Go ahead and get started. I’ll take the upstairs first.”