Page 139 of Delusion in Death

“Too much coincidence, and coincidence is bogus.”

“So I thought. I’ve managed to track the owner through insurance. It’s a very nice piece, and part of a collection. Owned by Gina M. Bellona. Bellona is the ancient Roman goddess of war. On screen.”

“There she is,” Eve murmured.

Attractive, yes. Strong bones, smoothly covered by olive skin, a sweep of dark hair liberally, artistically streaked with silver. It listed her as the widow of a Carlo Corelli.

“Find out what happened to Carlo Corelli,” she ordered Peabody when her partner came back in. “And do it on the move. We’ve got a fucking New York address. Upper East Side—good call there, Callendar. Teasdale, I’d like you to stay back, monitor any transmissions Callaway requests to make. And use whatever magic you have to locate any private transportation she may have, and have gearing up. If she’s trying to poof, let’s block her.”

“I’ll make sure of it. And have a biohazard team in place at her condo.”

“Set it up, but hold them back until we get there. You can freeze her accounts faster than we can. Do that.”

“Consider it done.”

“I’m ordering a SWAT team,” Whitney said. “I want that building secure.”

“Yes, sir. I’m going to pull in Baxter and Trueheart. I think that’s enough to take down one old lady.”

“You’ll have one more. I’m with you, Lieutenant,” Roarke told her.

“You earned it. Let’s move out.”

Chapter 21

Eve worked as she went, her mind clicking through steps and strategies. “Peabody, keep digging on Gina Bellona. I want to know if she has any other homes, properties, and if so, we want the locals there to obtain warrants for search and seizure. I want any and all vehicles—ground, air, water. I want relatives, employment or businesses. I want the names of her frigging pets.”

She pulled out her own ’link, grateful that for once the elevator had a little breathing room. “Reo,” she began without preamble when the APA came on screen. “Are you and Mira secured?”

“Yes, we’re in the conference room. What—”

“Don’t talk, listen. I need a warrant, now, for the homes, businesses, and vehicles of Gina Bellona, aka Gina MacMillon. We’re on our way to her primary New York residence, and we’re going in with or without the warrant. Make it clean, Reo. She’s an imminent threat to the people and properties of New York. If she gets out of the city, she will be an imminent threat globally.”

“You’ll have it.”

“Save time, use the conference room ’link. Put Mira on.”

“Eve,” Mira began when they switched ’links.

“Is Mr. Mira at home?”

“He’s teaching an evening class at Columbia. He—”

“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. I need you to go down to Callaway. I need you to keep him busy, talking, distracted. Say nothing about the grandmother. You know what to do, what to say. Just keep him occupied. I don’t want him contacting or trying to contact MacMillon before, during, or after the bust.”

“I understand.” Mira’s voice remained calm, but fear lived in her eyes. “Do you think she would try to hurt my family?”

“She hasn’t had time to do anything about it, but I’ll make sure they’re all protected. I promise you. She needs time and space to plan, to research. We’re not going to give it to her. But we won’t take chances. Get to Callaway.”

She clicked off, started to use her ’link again to order protection details. Roarke laid a hand on her arm.

“It’s done.” He moved off the elevator with her into the garage. “Private security, Mira’s family, Peabody and McNab’s apartment, Reo’s, and so on.”

“It should be cops.” Then she took a breath. “Thanks.”

“One less thing for you and the department to worry about.”

“Okay.” And she set it aside. “Get me the layout of the condo—floor plan, exits, security. I’ll drive, we’re going hot until we’re close, then we’ll turn off the sirens.”

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