Page 60 of Bonded in Death

Heading downtown now. I have a lot of new data. Report in asap. Need to brief you and write up this report before my consult with Mira.

She didn’t add if Whitney wanted an oral report before she finished her consult with Mira, Peabody needed to give it.

No point giving her partner the jitters this early in the morning.

And while she consulted with Mira, Peabody could start deeper runs on the remainder of The Twelve.

Possibly one of them had been in league with Potter. If not, possibly one of their contacts, sources, lovers, ex-lovers, family members.

And she wanted to contact the prison, satisfy herself there.

He’d been a cop, a treacherous, dirty cop. Maybe he’d come into the team already dirty. Maybe some of his cop friends had been dirty—and part of this.

Sometimes it was just for money, but she wondered.

Why plan to kill the entire team? Easier ways, again, easier ways. Less risky, less destructive.

New York was awake.

She imagined the trio of street LCs she’d spotted on her way to the crime scene the morning before sat in the all-night deli. Night shift workers probably had their blackout shades down, and the day shift was reporting to work, or headed that way.

Some of them rode on the maxibus that farted to a halt at a stop to pick up more.

She caught the sweet and yeasty scent from a bakery that probably had fans blowing that temptation out to the sidewalk.

Because who could resist?

She wondered how you knew a melon was ripe, then shoved that away.

Summerset would stay home, safe behind the gates. He might’ve gone against her orders, but he’d do as Roarke asked.

Because there was love.

So one worry off her list. She’d check off more when she knew the others were safe in the house behind the gates.

Because one of them was slated to be next. She had no doubt of that. And he wouldn’t wait long.

He might have wanted them all in New York, and she’d helped accommodate him there. But behind the gates, the walls, the security.

And if one of them turned out to be part of this, she’d root that out.

She pulled into the garage at Central and headed straight up.

Bring Feeney in—yes, she wanted to do that. But to get things in place first. Her board, she needed that visual. Her book, that documentation. And she needed to write it all out in detail.

Kolchek? She could let that slide. If for some weird reason that crossed into this? She’d find a way. But she couldn’t see it.

She went into her office, to the coffee. And with it, began to update her board.

When she sat to do the same with her book, she heard Peabody coming.

“I got here as soon… whoa, that’s a lot more. Who are— Hey, that’s—ah—Marjorie Wright. Two-time Oscar winner. Not a suspect?”

“No, one of your spies. Urban Wars era.”

“Holy shit, really? She looks so elegant, and… Why is Summerset on there? Is that an ID of him from back when, too? Because he was like dashing. And— Holy shit!”

Peabody’s eyes popped wide, and her jaw dropped.

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