The In Death Collection Books 16-20 - J. D. Robb [720]
“September of last year. Just a few months before we got the first Cassandra letter. Before things started blowing up in the city.”
“And the date of the hefty deposit.”
“After we broke their back. We got most of them—figured we got most of them, but you never get all the rats crawling off the sinking ship. We got to most of the money, too, but they were a well-financed terrorist organization.”
“And it appears Kirkendall scooped up a chunk of the funds, or was given them for safekeeping.”
“One more reason to take him down. I don’t like leaving rats outside the cage.”
“He went rogue,” Roarke pointed out. “All three of them are on various agencies’ lists. Though, again, you can see by the file that the status was lowered after Cassandra scattered. And there’s no indication he’s had any facial surgery.”
“We had doctors on Cassandra. I’ll pop up that file, start looking at them. He’s left a trail. Everyone does.” When Roarke gently cleared his throat, she slid her gaze in his direction. “Even you, ace. If I wanted to find yours, I’d just put you on as consultant.”
It made him laugh. “I imagine I could find myself, if I tried hard enough. I’ll get back to it. I have to say the ins and outs are fairly fascinating.”
“You find any connection to a building in the city—especially Upper West—to any of those aliases or blinds, you get a big bonus.”
Those blue eyes went wicked. “Of my choosing.”
“Pervert.” She swung back to her computer.
“I got the meal, you deal with the dishes.” He rose, then waited when her communicator beeped.
“Dallas.”
Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. The body of a woman identified as Newman, Meredith, has been discovered. Report Broadway and Fordham as primary. Scene is being secured.
“Acknowledged. Dallas out. Up to eleven—twelve if we add Jaynene Brenegan,” she said as she rose. “That’s nearly to the Bronx.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. She’s found because he wanted her found. Takes manpower away from the Swisher case. No big if we make that connect, because it doesn’t connect him with Moss and Duberry or Brenegan. So he thinks. I need you here doing that thing you do. I’ll take Trueheart. It’s good training for him. I’d rather have Baxter here on the kid.”
“He knows they’ll pull you in on this. Primary on Swisher, she’s the caseworker on Nixie. He could be waiting for you.”
She walked to the closet, pulled out a vest. She stripped off her shirt, put it on. “I hope so. I won’t be going in blind,” she added as she tugged the shirt back in place.
She moved to her desk, took out her clutch piece and strapped on her ankle holster. “I know he’s hoping to get a shot at me.”
“Then make sure he doesn’t get one.” He walked over, buttoned her shirt himself. “And make sure you come home.”
“I’ll be back.” She hitched on her weapon harness, motioned toward her desk. “Your bad luck. You’re stuck with the dishes.”
You’ve got good eyes,” Eve said to Trueheart. “Use them. Suspects may be observing the scene. They may be mixed with the lookie-loos, or based farther away using long-range. You spot anything that gives you a tingle, I hear about it.”
She stepped out of her vehicle, looked at him over the roof. “At this point, Baxter would add, ‘Especially if the tingle comes from seeing a hot skirt loitering in the vicinity who looks like she’d put out for a couple of overworked cops.’ ”
She waited a beat while Trueheart’s face reddened.
“I, however, am not interested in that kind of tingle.”
“Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir.”
She saw the scene was secured with police barricades. And that, as expected, the usual gang of gawkers had gathered. It was the sort of area, she thought as she scanned street, sidewalk, windows, roofs, where a good percentage of the gawkers would be pickpockets, and another