Page 117 of Passions in Death
“If it was valuable—”
“No, nothing of value. Sentiment, more likely. Something Shauna won’t think about asking for. Or if she does, they can’t find it. Just a little something. Because she’s his. His ex-girlfriend, his friend, his to hover over, to walk home from work. His.”
“Okay. You’re convincing me.”
Eve shook her head. “I could make pretty much the same case with Lopez. We’re going to get Shauna’s permission to go through the apartment again this morning before we go to the memorial. Maybe we’ll see—or not see—what he took out in that box.”
“Anything I can dig into until?”
“Just take another pass through both of their data. I’m going to do the same. A first kill,” Eve muttered. “It looks and feels like a first kill. And it looks and feels to me like the wedding—only days away—was the real trigger, with the honeymoon deal cementing time and place, and the willingness to risk exposure.”
She paused by the board again. “We need to have another conversation with Becca. Just like with the cold case Jenkinson and Reineke just closed, she might have seen, heard, sensed something, but dismissed it. She wouldn’t believe the guy she’s in love with could or would kill.”
“And for what?” Peabody added.
“We’ll get the what once we get the who.”
Eve sat back at her desk to pore through what she’d already pored through multiple times. But she couldn’t shake the feeling, or maybe just the hope, that something in that background data would bring a spark.
Lopez, a woman born in privilege thanks to the hard work and enterprise of those who’d come before her. Still, her work ethic stayed strong. Her choice of career put her, and her body, in the spotlight.
She didn’t strip for the money, to pay the bills, to put food on the table. She stripped for style, for the attention, and because she was good at it.
But the money wasn’t nothing.
A relatively diverse family, though the majority married within their culture of origin. Those who hadn’t appeared to enjoy the same tight family and financial ties. A sprinkle of same-sex marriages over the decades, also by all indications accepted.
A very large family, so it didn’t surprise her to see a handful of criminal bumps, a few relations who’d done some time—either in prison or in rehab.
Nothing that stuck out to her, let her see some pattern.
A well-off woman closing in on thirty who’d had no legal cohabs, no marriages, no offspring. One who worked diligently at her chosen profession. And had a mean streak.
“Leave out the well-off and that could describe me a few years ago.”
She sat back, added a big, tight, supportive family as another difference.
A planner, Eve thought. She’d have to be to select costumes, work out choreography, handle her part of the real estate arm. Passionate—a temper, the mean streak, the use of sex as either revenge or solace.
Add the ego, the bitchiness.
“You fit, Lopez. You slide in smooth enough.”
She toggled over to Barney, and thought the same thing as she reexamined his background.
Not as privileged financially, not as big a family, but a good-looking white male, just shy of thirty. That brought a built-in sense of privilege.
A better-than-average student, part-time work during the school summers and breaks. Responsible. Football quarterback, team captain, lettered in high school there. And of course, stood as the male half of Shaunbar.
Two sisters, younger, parents that had each been married once, and stayed married for thirty-one years and counting. Two uncles on the paternal side, one aunt on the maternal, and a total of six cousins.
No, not as tight, Eve thought, as the family had scattered in the last couple of generations.
One same-sex marriage and one divorce, one charge of simple assault among the cousins. None currently lived in New York.
Since he’d majored in business management, had taken leadership courses, she assumed he’d reached his career goal.
No marriages, the single—and current—cohab, no offspring.
