Page 30 of Concealed in Death

Lots of wood against lots of color, she noted, and all accented by big windows that would let in plenty of light.

Anyone who could do this kind of work, she thought, could certainly build some false walls that blended in without a seam out of place.

“Mom! Trilby’s in my face!”

“Trilby, what did I tell you?”

“I’m not doing nothing to her!”

“You’re not doing anything to her,” Alma corrected as she brought out the drinks. “And don’t, or there’ll be no Max Adventure on screen tonight for either of you.”

This time there came a stereo: “Mom!”

“I mean it. Sorry.”

“No problem,” Eve told her. “Your husband?”

“Sure, I’ll go up and tell him to put some clothes on. Just give me a minute.”

“What’s all the racket?” The man’s voice boomed, but didn’t sound threatening. It sounded amused. “No Max Adventure tonight?”

“Dad!” More stereo.

“Better straighten up, or we’ll never know what happens to Max and Luki on Planet Crohn. Hey, babe, can you... Hey, sorry.” He stopped at the landing as he looked down, spotted Eve and Roarke. “Didn’t know we had company.”

“It’s cops, Brodie.”

His easy smile faded as he nodded and started down.

His hair, a curly brown mop, still dripped a little from the shower. He wore jeans, a long-sleeve brown tee, and thick socks.

“I wondered if you’d come by. Alma and I talked about if we should go in, offer to give a statement. We were going to talk about it more after the kids go down tonight. It wasn’t a mistake? The media report?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“I’ll get you a beer.” Alma brushed her hand down his arm.

“Thanks. I guess we should all sit down.”

“I’m Lieutenant Dallas,” Eve began. “Primary on this matter. This is my consultant.”

“Roarke. I recognized you,” Brodie said. “I’ve done a little work on a few of your places.”

“Have you now?”

“Yeah, here and there.”

“If your work for me is as fine as the work you’ve done for yourself here, I’m sure I’m very pleased with it.”

“Well, you paid well, and on time. Can’t say the same for everybody.”

“What kind of work did you do in the building on Ninth, for The Sanctuary?” Eve asked him.

“Mostly slap and patch.” He pushed at the damp mop of hair in what looked to be an absent habit. “They couldn’t afford much, and I gave them the best break I could, seeing as what they were trying to do for the kids. I was trying to start my own business, just getting it going, so what I did for them was mostly on my own time, on my own.”

“Did you build any walls?”

“No. Patched a couple.”

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