“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
She looked at the traffic, at the knots of vehicles that were all but blocking out the sky in this sector. “You gotta be kidding.”
He only smiled again. “Every day you’re alive’s a beauty, miss.”
She thought of Bryna Bankhead. “Guess you’re right.”
She popped the tube, sucked on it contemplatively as she inched her way up Madison. At Fifty-first, she cut over, double parked, and engaged her ON DUTY sign.
And girding her loins, strode into Saks and the gauntlet of cosmetic shills.
High-fashion droids glided by the doors in a pattern designed to dazzle the eye, and make it impossible to break through unscathed. Backing them up were human consultants who manned booths, counters, or patrolled the aisle looking, in Eve’s opinion, for escapees. The air was choked with scent.
A female droid with a starburst of magenta hair slithered across the floor to block Eve’s forward progress.
“Good afternoon, and welcome to Saks. Today our premiere fragrance—”
“One drop goes on me, just one, and I’ll ram that spritzer down your throat,” she warned as the droid moved in for the kill.
“Indeed, madam, it only takes a drop of Orgasma to entice the lover of your dreams.”
Eve flipped her jacket aside, tapped her fingers on her weapon. “It only takes one blast of this to put you in the recycle bin, Red. Now back off.”
The droid backed off, with satisfying speed. Eve heard the call go up for Security as she plowed through the wall of customers and consultants. She flipped out her badge as a pair of uniformed droids rushed toward her.
“NYPSD. Official business. Keep those damn smell pushers off me.”
“Yes, Lieutenant. May we be of some assistance?”
“Yeah.” She tucked her badge in her pocket. “Where’s the lingerie department?”
At least, Eve thought as she got off on the proper floor, nobody up here rushed you waving underwear. Still, selling sex seemed to be the order of the day as model droids roamed the department in foundation garments or nightwear. Human clerks, at least, wore real clothes.
She spotted CeeCee Plunkett immediately and waited until the woman completed bagging up a sale.
“Ms. Plunkett?”
“Yes, may I help you?”
Eve took out her badge again. “Is there a place we can speak privately?”
She had rosy cheeks, and they went white. She had pretty blue eyes, and they went wide. “Oh God. Oh God, it’s Bry. Something’s happened to Bryna. She didn’t come into work, she doesn’t answer her ’link. She’s been hurt.”
“Is there somewhere we can talk?”
“I—yes.” Pressing a hand to her temple, CeeCee looked around. “The—the dressing area, but I’m not supposed to leave my station. I . . .”
“Hey.” Eve snagged a droid in a sheer black bra and panties. “Take over here. Which way?” she asked CeeCee and came around the counter to take her arm.
“Back here. Is she in the hospital? Which hospital? I’ll go see her.”
Inside one of the small changing cubes, Eve closed the door. There was a tiny padded stool in the corner, and she guided CeeCee to it. “Sit down.”
“It’s bad.” She gripped Eve’s arm. “It’s very bad.”
“Yes, I’m sorry.” There would never be an easy way. There was only the fast way—a quick stab to the heart rather than slicing inch by inch. “Bryna Bankhead was killed early this morning.”
CeeCee shook her head, kept shaking it slowly as the first tear trickled down her cheek. “She had an accident?”