Page 90 of Random in Death

He took a long moment just to stare at her.

“I’m going to firmly believe you don’t know how insulting that is. And I’m going to assume from the vicious music you’re in one now. Have you tracked him there?”

“Maybe.”

“Well then, good luck with it. I’m letting you know I’ll likely be a bit late getting home.”

“Anything to do with letting Jamie ditch you for EDD?”

“No. Was that a problem?”

“Another no. We hit some of that luck earlier, so I know he’s white, about five-six, and was wearing Kick It Zoomers, size six to seven, cheap-ass black baggies, at least on the night of the first murder.”

“Then L&W’s the place to be, isn’t it? Substandard apparel is their business. We had their like when I was a boy in Dublin. I wouldn’t’ve pocketed a pair of socks inside those doors.”

She had to laugh. “You and Quilla have more in common than I realized. She was with Jamie. She’s doing a report on EDD.”

“So I’m told. And she intends to try to tap you for one on Homicide.”

“She already did. I’m thinking about it. Later.”

With mild amusement in those fabulous eyes, he smiled at her. “Are you now?”

“Not now, later. Here comes my source. I don’t know if I’ll be late or not. It depends on if this lead pans out.”

“Then I’ll see you at home when we get there.”

Eve pocketed the ’link.

“Sorry about that. Long list.” Carleen whooshed out a breath. “Anyway, I’m thinking. Short white kid, I think white kid, alone. Dopey clothes.”

“Dopey?”

“Well, like his mom made him dress for school or church or to visit snooty Aunt Martha. Honest, I can’t tell you what clothes, just not what you usually see in here. Like pants—not bags or jeans or sweats. I think a button shirt, all pressed and whatever. I know not a tee or sports jersey. But what I remember is he had really good shoes. Dress shoes, not sneaks or kicks or airs. Quality though. Leather dress shoes, like you’d wear to church or like that.

“I remember because I thought if he could afford—or his parents could afford—good leather shoes, what the hell was he buying Kick Its for?”

She lowered her voice. “They’re totally crap.”

“So I’m told. Can you describe him?”

“It was a couple weeks ago. I swear they blur. And we were having a sale, so we were crushed. I’m not even sure he was a white kid, just pretty sure.”

“Hair color, build?” Eve pressed.

“Sorry, got nothing. I mostly remember the shoes. I mean the ones he wore in.”

“What about the shoes? Describe them.”

“Well, brown leather dress loafers, with the tassel. I mean who puts a teenage kid in those? Lame. But real quality. Alan Stubens.”

“You’re sure about that? The brand?”

“Yeah. Most of the rest is maybe, but I’m solid on the shoes because I thought how you could buy fifty… nah, more like a hundred Kick Its for one pair of Stuben loafers.”

“All right. I’m going to give you my card. If you remember anything else, any detail, contact me. If he comes in again, don’t alert him. Go into the back and contact me.”

“Well hell, what did he do?”

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