Fantasy in Death - J. D. Robb [126]
“If he keeps up the hack, we’ll have him. Yeah, yeah, he’s in New York. See there. Now let’s start scraping away sectors.”
“I’ll hang here,” Peabody said. “Keep them supplied with liquids.”
“Be ready for a go tonight.” Eve looked back at the team. It came down to trust again. If they said they’d pin him, they’d pin him.
“Maybe I should just take it to my office,” Eve considered as they headed out.
“Feeney’s right about the value of a secondary source. I can do more at home, and I have better equipment. Added to that, I’d like my hands in it, and here I’d just step on Ian’s toes.”
“All right. Set up at home, and I’ll spend the next hour or two trying to find a way to write a report that doesn’t make me sound like a lunatic.”
“You came off quite sane when you ran it by me, and then the rest. Push the science. I’ll help you with it,” he added when she didn’t quite muffle the groan. “We’ll dazzle the commander with your in-depth knowledge of advance holonetics.”
“I feel a headache coming on.”
He brushed his lips over the top of her head as they stepped into the garage. “There now.”
“One way or the other, he’s in the box with me tomorrow. My turf, my area. And then we’ll see who ... Shit, shit, could it be that simple?”
“Could what?”
“Turf. Area.” Shit! she thought again and pulled up short. “I have to figure he’s got his hole within the basic parameters of his place, the partners, the warehouse. He’s efficient, careful, meticulous. Why would he risk being seen—and maybe even by his so-called friends—going in or out of another building?”
Roarke uncoded the doors, pulled hers open, then leaned on it. “His own building. He’d want his special equipment close, wouldn’t he? Easier to secure, to monitor that security, to use whenever he has the whim.”
“Not his apartment. There’s nothing in there. But there are other spaces in that building. Including the other half of his floor.”
“Let’s go have a look.”
“My thoughts exactly. I’ll run the address while you drive, see who rents or owns it.”
He got behind the wheel. “Backup?”
“I’ll let them know we’re taking the detour, but I don’t want to call out the troops then have this turn out to be a bust. Anyway, I think we can handle a cybergeek who kills by remote control. He’s a coward on top of... Stuben, Harry and Tilda, ages eighty-six and eighty-five respectively. Owners, in residence for eighteen years. Three children, five grandchildren, two great-grandchildren.”
“It could be a blind.”
“Yeah.” She drummed her fingers on her thigh. “There was good security on that apartment. Two doors, both with monitors, cams, palm plates. The inside setup is probably a mirror image of Var’s. It’s worth a knock. I’ll run the other units. Maybe something will pop, but this one feels right.”
When he parked, she pulled out her communicator. “Peabody, we’re going to take a look at Var’s across-the-hall neighbors. Following a hunch.”
“Do you want me to meet you?”
“No. We’ll take our look-see. If I don’t tag you back in fifteen, send backup.”
“Copy that. Across the hall from his own place. That would be smart, now that I think of it. Dallas, why don’t you just leave the com open? I can monitor, and if I hear any trouble, I’ll release the hounds.”
“All right. While you’re babysitting us, go ahead and run the other occupants of the building. And put your com on mute. I don’t want to hear your voice coming out of my ass.” She stuck the communicator in her back pocket as Roarke chuckled.
“Let’s make this official. Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Roarke, expert consultant, civilian, entering Var Hoyt’s building to interview suspect’s neighbor.”
She used her master to gain entry.
“You know, if I were him, I’d have the outer security rigged to alert me if anyone bypassed the normal entry procedure.”
“Maybe. Still, he’d have to scramble to shut down operations in one space, secure it, get across the hall, unlock, get in,