Page 146 of Bonded in Death

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, I’ll tell you what I know so far.”

“This isn’t something to screw around with. I’ve got a couple of maybes on my cross-checks.”

“Neither is a gunshot wound anything to screw around with.”

To solve the matter, he lifted her shirt.

“Don’t you get tired of playing Nurse Nancy?”

“I can’t begin.” He eased the bandage away. “No sign of infection,” he said, and laid a hand, gently, on it. “No heat. See?”

“I’d pop you one but you’re so pretty.”

“Here now.” He spread on the topical.

The pain she’d ignored eased off.

“Okay, good. Why do I need the blocker?”

“For the headache, for the knots in your shoulders, for the pain in your neck.”

“Right now you’re the pain in my neck.”

“And I walked straight into it.” He finished the fresh bandage, handed her a blocker.

“What do you know?”

He sat on the edge of her command center, commandeered her coffee. “A former associate has a colleague who heard of a competitor—”

“Just say smugglers.”

“My word was there would be no names given, and no record of the conversation.”

“Agreed. Classic anonymous tip if needed.”

“After a check of files, which the competitor of the colleague of the associate—former—keeps unknown to his clients, transportation was booked, sixteen months ago, under the name Carson Wells. The man who traveled from Calais to a small island off the coast of Maine—”

“Maine?”

Roarke held up a hand. “A place sometimes used by the competitor for this sort of transportation. The passenger matches the third sketch, or closely enough. The client is remembered for having three large crates, electronic equipment, and considerable luggage, for requesting a bottle of French wine and escargot for the flight.”

“You’re not kidding me.”

“I’m not, no. The passenger had an SUV waiting. The pilot doesn’t remember make or model, but helped load the crates and so on into theSUV. The client paid cash rather than a wire transfer. He paid in full, and the competitor went on his way.”

“He drives down from the coast of Maine—SUV’s probably gone by now. He wouldn’t keep it. He’s already got the house.”

She rose, paced. “He needs somewhere to go, to stay. Sixteen months ago. Sixteen. That’s right in there. He bought or rented the house remotely. We’ll factor that in now. He had to hire someone to help him unload when he got there.”

“Or he bought a couple of droids. He needs the house maintained.”

“And wouldn’t have live domestics. This is good. A timeline. We can use this. And I can add it into my cross-checks. We add the timeline to check on the barbers and so on.”

“For now? The financials. Starting in the Urbans era with his birth name—challenging.”

“And?”

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