Page 46 of Festive in Death

“More, the wrong in it wouldn’t have mattered to him.”

“Right. Or it could’ve been a competitor,” Eve added. “I’ve got one guy I need to talk to. One of the top competitors for the stupid award—and Ziegler had sex with his barely of age, impaired at the time, sister.”

“Again, I’m going to agree with you. Any one of those types could have killed him in this way, at this time. That isn’t a great deal of help.”

“It helps that I don’t lean too heavy on it being a woman. The bedroom as the killing field. It leaned woman to me. The killer was about the same height, but even a shorter woman in heels would fill the bill. But the way you’ve profiled him, I can see him letting some annoyed guy back there while he packed. It’s like another slap, isn’t it? I’m busy, got places to go. You can have a couple minutes of my valuable time.”

“He must have been an infuriating individual. Yet he accumulated clients, and short-term girlfriends. He knew how to be charming and attentive. Most narcissists can be, particularly if it gains them admiration and attention.”

“He got plenty of both. The murder weapon. It’s probably an impulse—something right at hand—but you can’t miss the irony.

“Thanks for squeezing me in. I’d better go catch up with Peabody.”

“Dennis and I are really looking forward to tomorrow night. It’s one of the highlights of our holiday season.”

“Really?”

“You and Roarke throw a marvelous party, Eve, in your gorgeous home. And there are always so many people there we enjoy. I also know that while at least part of you would be thrilled never to host or attend another party in your lifetime, you’ll enjoy it, too.”

“I had to make a deal with the devil and agree to help with the prep.”

Mira laughed. “Not Roarke—Summerset.”

“That’s why you’re the head shrink around here. Yeah.” She pushed to her feet. “As if they need me to tell somebody where to put a pot of flowers or whatever.”

“I’m sure Summerset could run the preparations seamlessly. But, Eve, your participation is valued.”

“Yeah? Let’s hear him say that after I screw it up.”

•••

Eve caught up with Peabody on the corner of West Twelfth and Broadway after squeezing her car into a skinny, overpriced lot a couple blocks north. The walk through the brisk winter air gave her a little more time to think.

“How many did you talk to?” Eve asked.

“The first three, so only one more on Trina’s hot list. But there’s still more on the overall client list.”

“We’ll talk to the last on Trina’s, then hunt up Rock Britton. He’s probably at his gym, and it’s not that far.”

“Okay. Oh, look, there’s a cart. We could grab a couple of dogs, and I could fill you in before we talk to the last woman. Kira Robbins.”

“You’re thinking about filling your stomach more than filling me in.”

“Two birds, one dog. Each.”

Amused, Eve headed for the cart. “Still short, right?”

“Just till payday. We started this savings program—McNab and me. We’ve almost got enough put away to give to Roarke.”

Eve stopped at the cart. “Why would you give money to Roarke? He already has almost all the money in all the known universe.”

“To invest for us. He said he would, and who would you trust more to do that than Roarke, who has almost all the money in all the known universe?”

“Good point.” She held up two fingers at the cart operator. “Loaded,” she added. “And smart,” she added for Peabody.

“We figured, in a couple years maybe we could buy a place. That’s a kind of investment from an investment, so we put some away each payday, and it’s like gone.” She swiped her palms together. “I mean it’s something we agreed not to dig out except for emergencies. Not for Christmas presents and going to the vids and stuff like that.”

“That’s pretty... adult.”

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