“She may be a target, Berenski. She knows Mackie, and she may be one of his targets. Get her safe and secured until my cops get there.”
“Done.” The scowl turned to a snarl, and his face blurred as he shoved to his feet. “Nobody screws with one of my people.”
He cut her off, and with her ’link still in hand, Eve bypassed the noise and color of EDD central and shot toward its glass-walled lab.
“Marian Jacoby—potential target. Being secured now. That leaves one. Apartments, condos, townhouses, East Side, likely in the Twenties or below—the post-Urban toss-ups. Probably Third, possibly Lex.”
She caught her breath as Feeney immediately started a search and scan. “Finances,” she said to Roarke. “They were saving to buy.”
“I can tell you he all but emptied his account September eighteenth, and took the lump sum on his pension only last week. He had a two- hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar life insurance policy on his wife, doubled with accidental death, and prior savings of two hundred thousand and change. With the lump sum, he has more than enough for a downpayment, but wouldn’t that be foolish?”
“He may not be thinking straight, but I agree and lean toward rental. Even if he’s not thinking straight, it’s becoming clear the daughter is, in her own twisted way. Other accounts, he must have put the money somewhere.”
“Working on that.”
“We’ve already eliminated some buildings and locations.” As he worked, Feeney gestured to a screen where Eve saw numerous buildings blacked out. “We zero in on the post-Urban prefabs, we eliminate more.”
Nodding, she answered her ’link, looked at Dickhead.
“I’ve got her, in my office. She’s scared shitless.”
“Put her on. Jacoby.”
“Lieu—Lieu—Lieutenant, I—”
“Pull it together. You’re safe, you’re going to stay safe. You know Reginald Mackie.”
“Lieutenant, please, my son. My boy’s home alone, just the house droid. My boy.”
“We’ll take care of it. MacNab, dispatch protection detail to Jacoby’s residence. Jacoby, the minute we’re done, contact your kid, tell him to expect officers. Tell him to ask to see identification before admitting them.”
“He knows that, he knows that already. He wouldn’t—”
“Good. You know Reginald Mackie.”
“Yes, my son and his daughter have some classes together. I knew his wife, Susann. I—”
“Did he come to you, ask you to investigate her accident?”
“He was desperate, grieving. He—”
Before Eve could shut down the excuses, she hear
d Berenski’s voice. “Yes or no, Jacoby. Nobody’s going to burn you over it. Truth and brief. Now.”
“Yes, he came to me, asked me. I did the reconstruction on my own time, and I ran the evidence, analyzed the reports, everything. I had to tell him it just wasn’t anyone’s fault. I didn’t tell him it was Susann’s, but that’s the truth. He was angry, accused me of covering up. Then he apologized. He didn’t mean it, but he apologized. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since.”
“Okay. You’re safe, your boy’s safe. McNab, officers’ names?”
“Task and Newman dispatched. ETA two minutes.”
“Task and Newman—make sure he verifies those officers. They’ll be at your door in two minutes.”
“Thank you. Thank you.”
“Use your own ’link,” Berenski said, snatching back his own. “So your kid recognizes it. Bag this crazy son of a bitch, Dallas, before he targets somebody else in my house. Shit, before he targets me.”
“We’re closing in.”