Portrait in Death (In Death 16) - Page 30

“You talk to her.”

“Coward.”

“That’s right. Want to make something of it?”

Peabody studied Eve’s hair. “You could probably use a little trim.”

“Maybe you could use a good colonic.”

Peabody hunched her shoulders. “Just saying.”

“Contact her when you’re back in your cube. I don’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity. If she asks, tell her I’m on a top-secret investigation off planet. I may not be back for weeks. No, years.”

“Check. Meanwhile?”

“Diego.”

“It’s not lunchtime.”

“You can have a breakfast burrito.”

But Peabody knew she was doomed to go hungry within five minutes of entering the pretty cantina. It smelled great. All spicy and exotic. Kids were chomping down their morning meals in booths and four-tops, giving the place a buzzy chatter while the waitstaff moved along efficiently, topping off mugs of fancy coffees.

Diego didn’t work the breakfast shift they were told by one of the busy waitresses. Nobody saw him until noon when he surfaced from his apartment above the cantina.

“Works the lunch and dinner shifts,” Eve said as they headed up to the apartment. “Better tips, more action. Comes from having an uncle as a boss. See if he’s got a vehicle registered under his name, Peabody. Then check the uncle, or the business for a van.”

“On it.”

Peabody started the search as Eve knocked on the door. There was silence, so she used her fist. Moments later there was a spate of Spanish. From the tone, she took it to be curses. She pounded again, and held her badge up to the Judas hole.

“Open up, Diego.”

“Nothing under his name,” Peabody said under her breath. “Uncle’s got a late-model sedan, and a service van.”

She broke off when Diego opened the door and she was treated to a blast of color from a pair of electric blue pajamas.

McNab, she thought, would totally dig on them.

“What’s this about?” His eyes were dark and slumberous, his stance both lazy and cocky. As he scanned Eve, his full lips set in a leering smile while he lifted a finger to run it over the dot of beard on his receding chin.

“Questions. Want me to ask them out here, or inside?”

He shrugged, using one shoulder, then swept his hand in what was supposed to be a courtly gesture as he stepped back. “I always welcome ladies into my home. Coffee?”

“No. Night before last. You know the drill.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Where were you night before last, Diego? Who were you with, what were you doing?”

She got a look at the room while she spoke. Small, furnished in sex-god style of red and black. Overly warm and smelling too strongly of some musky male cologne.

“I was with a lady, of course.” He flashed brilliantly white teeth. “And we were making sweet, sweet love all night long.”

“Lady got a name?”

He cast his heavily lashed eyes downward. “I’m too much of a gentleman to say.”

Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery
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