The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [181]
She more than tripled that amount if she included rentals.
Patient as a cat at a mouse hole now, she pulled up the image of Yost outside the door of the suite, highlighted head and shoulders, erased the face, ordered a computer image of three hundred and sixty degrees, then dumped the result into the data bank.
“Computer, list cash-only purchases of human hair wig matching current image.”
WORKING . . . FIVE-HUNDRED-TWENTY-SIX PURCHASES, CASH, OF IMAGED PRODUCT IN REQUESTED PERIOD. LISTING . . .
While her computer spewed out the supplier locations and dates of purchase, Eve followed on-screen.
PARADISE SALON, RETAIL, FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK, MAY THREE.
“Hold. And we have a winner. Busy boy that day, weren’t you, shopping all over town. Computer, list any other purchases on this receipt.”
WORKING . . . IN ADDITION TO HUMAN HAIR WIG MODEL DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN, RECEIPT INCLUDES PURCHASE OF HUMAN HAIR WIG MODEL CAPTAIN STUD; TWO TWELVE-OUNCE BOTTLES OF WIG GROOMING PRODUCT, BRAND NAME SAMPSON; ONE SIX-OUNCE BOTTLE OF COLLAGEN ELIXIR FOR FACE, BRAND NAME YOUTH; ONE EACH OF TEMPORARY EYE TINT, BRAND NAME WINK, IN VIKING BLUE, SEA MIST, AND CARAMEL CREAM; ONE DIETARY PRODUCT, BRAND NAME FAT-ZAP FOR MEN; AND TWO THREE-BY-SIX-INCH SCENTED CANDLES, SANDLEWOOD. PURCHASES TOTAL EIGHT THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SIX DOLLARS AND FIFTY-EIGHT CENTS, INCLUDING ALL APPLICABLE TAXES.
“A lot of cash,” Eve mused, “but why leave a paper trail, even a false one, if you don’t have to? Computer, add image of Captain Stud brand wig to file. Copy addresses of luggage store, salon, and jewelry supplier, my PPC.”
While her computer completed the tasks, Eve turned to her ’link. Thirty-two calls, she noted, since she’d logged out the day before. Odds were the bulk of them were from reporters hoping for a statement or sound bite.
It was tempting just to dump them, but until Peabody reported her vehicle was a go, she could spare a little time.
She started through them, automatically transferring the usual media pleas to NYPSD Media Relations. Until she was told differently, directly from her commander, she wasn’t talking to the press.
She paused on the transmission from Nadine Furst, the star of Channel 75, and a personal friend. “Not yet, pal,” she murmured, but answered the message with a time delay. That way, she’d be in the field before Nadine received it.
“No point in nagging me,” Eve said. “I don’t have anything you can use at this point. The investigation is ongoing, all leads are being pursued with diligence, and blah, blah. You know the routine. When and if I have something for you, I’ll be in touch. You tie up my ’link, I’m not going to feel very friendly.”
Satisfied with that, Eve programmed the message to transmit in sixty minutes. She took twenty of them to write an updated report, then transmitted it to her commander.
She’d no more than pushed away from her desk and reached for her jacket when the summons from Commander Whitney came through.
As a matter of course, she snagged Peabody on the way up. “Maintenance?”
“Well, you know they have the whole how-backed-up-and-put-upon-they-are routine down pretty pat.”
Eve stepped onto the people glide, scowled. “Did you mention riot weapons?”
“I thought it best to hold that possibility in reserve, sir.” Just as she thought it best not to mention the snide comments made about a certain lieutenant’s track record with city vehicles and equipment. “But I made the priority of your current investigation clear, and indicated that Commander Whitney frowned on having his ranked officers going out into the field in a piece of junk.”
“That was good thinking.”
“As long as nobody down there calls him for verification. You know, Dallas, you could request that the commander put the arm on them.”
“I’m not whining to my superior, or pulling rank.”
“You don’t mind having me do it,” Peabody