Page 98 of Passions in Death
“I think so, yes. We’re following leads.”
“That’s good news.” He shifted the box again. “It had to be somebody in the club, some lowlife, right? I wish they hadn’t gone to a place like that. A group of women going to a place like that. I don’t mean to be critical, but it just seems like a bad choice. And it was, as it turns out. It was.”
He waited for Eve to step out in the lobby, then tried to juggle the box to get the door.
“I’ve got it.”
“Thanks. Not heavy, but awkward. I guess you deal with this all the time. I mean, it’s a job. For us, it’s trauma, tragedy. I hope you find that lowlife so Shauna can start putting this behind her. Maybe somebody who works there. That seems the most logical, doesn’t it? Somebody who works in a place like that.”
“We’re looking at all possibilities. Do you need a ride? I’m parked right down there.”
“Oh, no, thanks. Not going far, and it’s really not heavy. Have a good evening.”
She watched him walk away.
The helpful friend, she thought. The very nervous helpful friend trying to dig out information on the investigation.
And he had something in that damn box that wasn’t out of the AC or friggie.
Something to think about.
And since the shoe place was only a handful of blocks, she’d think about it and walk down there.
Chapter Fifteen
Before she reached the intersection, her ’link signaled. She saw Roarke on the display, then his face on-screen. Those brilliant blue eyes smiled at her.
“Lieutenant.”
“Civilian.”
“Out and about again, are you? As I am. A meeting downtown that ran over. Where might you be?”
“Heading to a shoe store downtown.”
“Before I have a slight stroke due to shock, I’ll assume this is fieldwork.”
“Your brain’s safe. I had another stop in the area.” She joined the river of pedestrians crossing at the Walk signal. “Peabody’s probably already there, but I’m this close anyway now.”
“Give me the address. I’ll meet you and catch a ride home.”
She gave it to him. “Should be a quick stop.”
“I’ll be quick as well, as I’m also close.”
She slid the ’link back in her pocket, discovered her sunshades, and put them on. On her right, a maxibus wheezed its way to a stop. People flooded off like refugees.
A trio of teenage boys, all in identical black baggies, strutted out of the flood and into a gaming store.
A woman with blond hair down to her ass sashayed—the only word for it. She wore purple micro shorts, a matching tank, and sandals with a three-inch platform that showed off purple toenails.
She carried a big flowered bag on her shoulder. A tiny, pointy-eared dog peeked out of it and goggled at Eve.
Thinking of Galahad, she gave the purse-dog a wide berth.
Two women headed up the block, both of them hauling shopping bags with the Fancy Feet logo. As they passed her, she heard one of them say:
“There’s nothing like hitting an end-of-season sale!”
