Page 23 of Random in Death

“He’ll want a piece of this one.”

“He’ll get it. Go to bed.”

As Roarke drove away, she leaned back.

“What do you think on motivation?” Roarke glanced at her. “You have a thought on it.”

“She rebuffed him. If I’m wrong and it’s a female, then it’s some sort of crazed jealousy, or maybe, again, a brush-off. But I don’t think she knew him, or her. Him, damn it. Either way, Jenna didn’t know or feel anything toward this person.”

“Why not?”

“She said, ‘Asshole.’ She didn’t say, with her friends right there, ‘that asshole Bob’ or ‘that bitch Jane.’ She didn’t say, ‘That asshole Bob jabbed me.’ And she said ‘he’ when she said it to Jake. ‘He jabbed me.’ I’m saying she saw the one who did, the one who did’s a male, and she didn’t know him. Doesn’t mean he didn’t know her.

“They could go to the same school,” she continued, “but he’s not in her circle, not on her social rung, so she doesn’t see him or notice him. There’s a pisser. Or he came ready to kill in that place, with that method, and had to pick somebody. Maybe Jenna was a type. Maybe he asked her to dance and she blew him off. And that’s a pisser.”

“You’re a marvel.”

“It’s just logic.”

“It is when you lay it all out that way, yes. So you likely have a teenage boy with a homicidal grudge against either Jenna or teenage girls. One who has a slight build and is somewhere under five-nine, who can access whatever substance he used to kill.”

“And is smart enough, organized enough to have worked out a plan.” With her eyes closed, she ran it through. “Smart enough, I think, not to have come into the club alone. He’s thinking about the cameras, so he slides in with a group. Head down, face turned away. But he didn’t come with a group so no one’s going to notice when he’s gone.”

When she felt herself drifting off, she straightened up again. “We’re not going to lock him in with the face rec—we won’t see his face. But maybe the build and his clothes, the hair. Process of elimination. Who with that build, those clothes, that hair didn’t walk out again?”

She huffed out a breath. “Is that going to be as complicated and time-consuming as I think?”

“Probably more so.”

“Well, Feeney’s going to want a piece. McNab’s not wrong. He can sure as hell have that one.”

“No one better for it.” He glanced at her again.

Cop adrenaline fading, he noted. When fatigue hit her and hit hard, she went so pale. At times so pale he imagined he could pass his hand through her.

“You know it’s near to three and tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“This is not news.”

“You could start an hour or two later in the morning.”

“When it’s hot, you work it hot. Who caught the weekend?” Trying to pull it out of her head, she rubbed her eyes. “Who caught weekend duty? Carmichael and Santiago. Baxter and Trueheart on standby. I’ll know more after I talk to Morris, and if they’re not working one, I can pull them in if I need them.”

When he drove through the gates, she let out a sigh. “So much for a lazy weekend at home.”

“We had almost half of one.”

“Next time we both have one free, let’s make sure we get a whole one. We could go to the island.”

When he parked, he leaned over, kissed her. “The very next.”

“Deal. Just leave the car. I’ll be back in it soon enough.”

Inside, they walked up the stairs. “I should get up by six.”

“Why, now? It won’t take you two hours to get dressed and get downtown.”

“I’m too wiped to write my report tonight. And I want to open the book, put up a board. It’ll keep it clear in my head when I get to Morris.”

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