The In Death Collection Books 16-20 - J. D. Robb [174]
“You know a lot of people who fit that box.”
His lip twitched. “I do. Yes, I do.”
“Elliot P. Hawthorne?”
“Yes, I’ve had dealings with him. Seventies, sharp, lives for golf. Apparently dotes on his third, considerably younger wife, and travels quite a lot now that he’s retired. I like him quite a bit. Is that helpful at all?”
“Anybody you don’t know?”
“Not worth mentioning.”
The evening at home with Roarke had helped clear her mind, Eve decided as she rode up in the jammed elevator to the Homicide Division. Not only did she feel rested, well-fed, and tuned up, but his informal rundown of some of the names on her list gave her a different insight. It was more personal and certainly more informative than the dry facts from a standard ID run.
She could shuffle his data around in her head as she questioned each party, and angle those questions around the more personal information. But first, she needed to check for any updates on lab and ME reports, round up Peabody, and face the media music.
She elbowed her way out of the elevator and turned toward her sector.
And all but ran into Nadine Furst.
The on-air reporter had a new short and sleek hairdo. What was it, Eve thought, with new hair on everybody? It was blonder, swingier, and swept back from Nadine’s perfect, angular face.
She was wearing a short, fitted jacket over slim, fitted pants, both in power red, which told Eve she was camera-ready.
And she carried a huge white bakery box that smelled gloriously of fat and sugar.
“Doughnuts.” There was no mistaking that scent, and Eve homed in on it like a hound on a fox. “You’ve got doughnuts in there.” She tapped a finger to the box. “That’s how you get through the bull pen, avoid the civilian and media lounges, and end up in my office. You bribe my men.”
Nadine fluttered her lashes. “And your point is?”
“My point is, how come I never get a damn doughnut?”
“Because generally I time it better, dump my offering in the bull pen, sometimes it’s brownies, and while every cop in Homicide descends like a pack of coyotes, I settle down in your office and wait for your arrival.”
Eve waited a beat. “Bring the doughnuts, leave the camera.”
“I need my camera,” Nadine said, gesturing to the woman beside her.
“I need a sunny Sunday at the beach where I can romp naked as a puppy in the surf, but I’m not going to get it anytime soon either. Doughnuts in, camera out.”
To ensure obedience, and to prevent her men from rioting, she snatched the bakery box herself before striding into the bull pen.
Several heads lifted, noses sniffed the air. “Don’t even think about it,” Eve ordered and kept right on walking through choruses of protests and complaints.
“There are three dozen in there,” Nadine told her as she followed Eve into her office. “You can’t possibly eat them all.”
“I could, just to teach those greedy hogs a lesson. However, this is a lesson in discipline and authority.” She opened the box, sighed deep as she perused her choices, all glossy, all hers. “I’ll let them think I’m keeping them all, and have my fill, then have them weeping with gratitude when I take out the leftovers to share.”
She plucked one out, brought up coffee on the AutoChef, then bit in. “Cream filled. Yum.” Chewing, she checked her wrist unit, then counted back from ten as she crossed to the door. Peabody rushed to the doorway as Eve hit one.
“Dallas! Hey! I was just—”
Taking another enormous bite, Eve closed the door in her aide’s sorrowful face.
“That was really cold,” Nadine commented and did what she could to swallow the laugh.
“Yeah, but fun.”
“Now that we’ve had our fun, I need an update on the Wooton murder, and a one-on-one. It would’ve been easier to set this up if you’d bothered to return any of my calls.”
Eve sat on the corner of the desk. “Can’t do it, Nadine.”
“I need to verify if there was, as rumored, some sort