Naked in Death - J. D. Robb [101]
“Split screen,” she ordered, “Victims One and Two, from beginning.”
Sharon’s cat smile, Lola’s pout. Both women looked toward the camera, toward the man behind it. Spoke to him.
“Freeze images,” Eve said so softly only the sharp ears of the computer could have heard her. “Oh God, what have we here?”
It was a small thing, a slight thing, and with the eyes focused on the brutality of the murders, easily missed. But she saw it now, through Sharon’s eyes. Through Lola’s.
Lola’s gaze was angled higher.
The height of the beds could account for it, Eve told herself as she added Georgie’s image to the screen. Each woman had their head tilted. After all, they were sitting, he very likely standing. But the angle of the eyes, the point at which they stared . . . Only Sharon’s was different.
Still watching the screen, Eve called Dr. Mira.
“I don’t care what she’s doing,” Eve spat out at the drone working reception. “It’s urgent.”
She snarled as she was put on hold and her ears assaulted with mindless, sugary music.
“Question,” she said the moment Mira was on the line.
“Yes, lieutenant.”
“Is it possible we have two killers?”
“A copycat? Unlikely, lieutenant, given as much of the method and style of the murders has been kept under wraps.”
“Shit leaks. I’ve got breaks in pattern. Small ones, but definite breaks.” Impatient, she outlined them. “Theory, doctor. The first murder committed by someone who knew Sharon well, who killed on impulse, then had enough control to clean up behind himself well. The second two are reflections of the first crime, fined down, thought through, committed by someone cold, calculating, with no connection to his victims. And goddamn it, he’s taller.”
“It’s a theory, lieutenant. I’m sorry, but it’s just as likely, even more so, that all three murders were committed by one man who grows more calculating with each success. In my professional opinion, no one who wasn’t privy to the first crime, to the stages of it, could have so perfectly mirrored the events in the second two.”
Her computer had ditched her theory as well, with a forty-eight-five. “Okay, thanks.” Deflated, Eve disconnected. Stupid to be disappointed, she told herself. How much worse could it be if she were after two men instead of one?
Her ’link buzzed again. Teeth bared in annoyance, she flipped on. “Dallas, What?”
“Hey, Lieutenant Sugar, a guy might think you didn’t care.”
“I don’t have time to play, Charles.”
“Hey, don’t cut me off. I got something for you.”
“Or for lame innuendos—”
“No, really. Boy, flirt with a woman once or twice and she never takes you seriously.” His perfect face registered hurt. “You asked me to call if I remembered anything, right?”
“Right.” Patience, she warned herself. “So, did you?”
“It was the diaries that got me thinking. You know how I said she was always recording everything. Since you’re looking for them, I figure they weren’t over at her place.”
“You should be a detective.”
“I like my line of work. Anyhow, I started wondering where she might put them for safekeeping. And I remembered the safe-deposit box.”
“We’ve already checked it. Thanks, anyway.”
“Oh. Well, how’d you get into it without me? She’s dead.” Eve paused on the point of cutting him off. “Without you?”
“Yeah. A couple, three years ago, she asked me to sign for one for her. Said she didn’t want her name on the record.”
Eve’s heart began to thump. “Then what good would it do her?”
Charles’s smile was sheepish and charming. “Well, technically, I signed her on as my sister. I’ve got one in Kansas City. So we listed Sharon as Annie Monroe. She paid the rent, and I just forgot about it. I can’t even say for sure if she kept it, but I thought you might want to know.”
“Where’s the bank?”
“First Manhattan, on Madison.”
“Listen to me, Charles. You’re home, right?”
“That’s right.”
“You stay there. Right there. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes. We’re going to go