Leverage in Death (In Death 47)

“Distracted. Tired. I figured he worked all weekend even though he told me not to worry.” A tear leaked out, slid down the slick gel. “I wanted to give him my notes, but he went right into his office, told me no calls. And—and he locked the door. I heard him lock the door. He never locked the door before. I should’ve known something was wrong, really wrong.”

Peabody reached down, took Rudy’s uninjured hand. “You couldn’t know.”

“He wasn’t acting right, he wasn’t, but he came out just before nine and he stopped, and he looked right at me. He told me I did good work, and how I was an asset to him, to the company. It felt good, you know? He always made sure to tell us when we did a good job. He went to the conference room, and I finished up some other work before I went into his office to put a file on his desk. I saw his tablet. He hadn’t taken his tablet to the meeting, and he’d need it. I grabbed it, and I ran because he’d need it. I got to the doors, or maybe I opened the door. I can’t remember. Something exploded and everything was hot and loud, and it felt like I was flying. Then I don’t remember until I heard screaming, and somebody was dragging me. I think. It’s all mixed up after.”

“It’s all right. Did Mr. Rogan get any contacts at work—appointments, correspondence, tags, that seemed unusual, that concerned you?”

“No, ma’am, I swear. Paul wouldn’t do what they’re saying. He’d never do this.”

Because he was hurt, and grieving, she let the ma’am go. “Did anyone in the company have an issue with him?”

“No, ma’am. I mean there are disagreements sometimes, debates, and things got tense a few times during the campaign and the negotiations. But nothing harsh. I loved working for him. Is he really dead?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Maybe it wasn’t him,” Rudy mumbled, looking away, looking at the wall. “Maybe it was somebody who looked like him. Like a clone. I’m really tired.”

“If you think of anything else, contact me.” Eve signaled for Peabody to leave a card on the table beside the bed.

“Do you have anyone who can come hang with you?” Peabody asked him.

“My mom’s flying in, and my brother.” The misery in his eyes lessened when a woman came to the door. “Kimmi.”

Though she’d obviously been crying, she carried a cheerful clutch of flowers.

“NYPSD,” Eve told her.

“Oh. I can come back.”

“No need. We’re wrapping up. Relative?”

“No, I work with Rudy.”

“Peabody, why don’t you take the flowers, stay with Rudy. Can we talk outside for a few minutes?” Though she had asked Kimmi, Eve simply took her arm, led her out.

The petite brunette with the sad doe eyes twisted her fingers together. “I wasn’t even there,” she said before Eve could speak. “I mean, I was at my desk when . . . I heard the explosion, only it didn’t sound like I thought an explosion sounds. I guess because I wasn’t close to the conference room. But then I heard shouting and screaming, and people started running, and alarms were going off.”

“Did you see Mr. Rogan this morning?”

“For a second, when he walked by my desk. He didn’t say anything. He always says something, but he didn’t.”

“How much did you interact with him at work?”

“Paul interacted with everybody. It was his leadership style.”

“Personally?”

“I’ve only been with Quantum a little over a year, but I went to the party he has at his house for the holidays. None of this makes sense.”

“What’s your position at Quantum?”

“I’m Lia Berkell’s assistant.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Was. She—she died in the explosion. They told me she died. She was the digital marketing manager. She was in the meeting. Um, she and Rudy and I worked tight with Paul on this campaign. But it wasn’t just work.”

She brushed a tear away. “We were really a team. You had to be there for each other. Like, when my apartment got broken into, Lia let me stay at her house until my roommate got back in town, so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“When did that happen?”

“Last December. My roommate was on a business trip, and I went on a date. I got home and somebody’d broken in.”