Page 17 of Passions in Death
“I want a word with the sweepers and Crack, then yeah.”
As they stepped back into the club area, Eve looked around. The women, ringed around Shauna like a security team, filed out. “Nothing more we can do here tonight.”
After consulting with the sweepers, she walked to the rear door, stepped out.
She scanned the short alley, where two white-suited sweepers filtered through the contents of the recycling bin.
So easy, Eve thought.
Just somebody turning into the alley on a hot, damp summer night, carrying a black case. Had she already given them the swipe?
Probably, she thought. Most likely, since she’d had company on that bathroom trip roughly an hour and fifteen minutes before TOD.
But why? If she’d wanted someone to bring it in that way, why not just go to the back door at some point, take the case? Thanks, pal.
Can’t say, she concluded. But if that had been the plan, it hadn’t worked.
Either way, she’d given that case and access to the privacy room to someone she knew. Trusted.
Either way, her killer had been in the room. Maybe they’d convinced her to let them go in with her. Or they’d waited for her in the room.
Eve stepped back in.
“Waiting inside. She couldn’t say when, for sure, she’d be able to slip away unnoticed—as proven by Decker on the john trip. Can’t ask somebody to wait in an alley indefinitely.”
She walked down to the privacy room. Dim lights, soundproofing. Inside within seconds.
Still, risky.
She headed back to the club area, where only Crack and Roarke remained. They sat at the bar, and from the looks of it, had switched to water.
“The sweepers are nearly done,” she told Crack. “Go home. They’ll secure the place, seal it.”
“How long you shutting me down? Not giving you shit about it,” he added. “Just need to know.”
“Keep it closed tomorrow. Give me another day on just the privacy room. If I hit on something that says longer, I’ll let you know. But I don’t see it.”
“You gonna loop me in?”
“No.”
When his eyes narrowed, she narrowed her own.
“Can’t and won’t. If we have questions you might be able to answer, we’ll ask them. If we have information I think you can expand on, I’ll ask. Otherwise, I can’t and won’t.”
He stared down at his water, then looked at Roarke. “Hard-ass skinny white girl you hooked with.”
“She is. And that’s one of the reasons she’ll find who killed your friend, and who used your place to do it.”
“Guess I hear that.” He rose. “You’ll work that security bullshit up for me?”
“I will, yes.”
“Well, fuck it. I guess I’m going home.”
After watching him walk out, she turned to Roarke. “Well, fuck it. I guess we’re going home, too.”
He rose, took her hand. “You can tell me what you think on the way.”
