The In Death Collection Books 21-25 - J. D. Robb [148]
“Yes, sir.”
“Even gave him a separate stash, customized just for him.”
“Customized?”
“Holiday gift. Didn’t charge him for it. No exchange of funds. I ought to be able to sue him. I ought to be able to sue that rat bastard for my time and emotional distress. I’m going to ask my lawyer about that.”
“You can ask your lawyer, Mr. Gant, but it’s going to be tough to sue Mr. Lawrence, seeing as he’s dead.”
“What do you mean, dead?”
“Apparently the customized juice didn’t agree with him.” The harried and uncertain Peabody was gone, and in her place was a stone-cold cop. “He’s dead, and he took an innocent bystander with him.”
“What the hell is this?”
“This is me—oh, and I’m Homicide, by the way, not Illegals—arresting you. Martin Gant, you’re under arrest for the murder of Max Lawrence and Leo Jacobs. For trafficking in illegal substances, for owning and operating an entertainment venue that distributes illegal substances.”
She turned as Eve opened the door. “All done here?” Eve said brightly. “I have these two nice officers ready to escort our guest down to booking. Oh, your lawyer appears to be wandering around the facility. We’ll make sure he finds you.”
“I’ll have your badges.”
Eve took one of his arms, and Peabody the other, as they hauled him to his feet. “Not in this lifetime,” Eve said, and passed him to the uniforms, watched him walk out the door. “Nice job, Detective.”
“I think I got lucky. Really lucky. And I think he’s greasing palms in Illegals.”
“Yeah, going to have to have a chat with Piers. Let’s go write it up.”
“He won’t go down for murder. You said.”
“No.” As they walked, Eve shook her head. “Maybe Man Two. Maybe. But he’ll do time. He’ll do some time, and they’ll pull his operating license. Fines and legal fees will cost him big. He’ll pay. Best we get.”
“Best they get,” Peabody corrected. “Tubbs and Jacobs.”
They swung into the bull pen as Officer Troy Trueheart stepped out. He was tall, and he was built, and he was as fresh as a peach with the fuzz still on it.
“Oh, Lieutenant, there’s a woman here to see you.”
“About what?”
“She said it was personal.” He glanced around, frowned. “I don’t see her. I don’t think she left. I just got her some coffee a few minutes ago.”
“Name?”
“Lombard. Mrs. Lombard.”
“Well, if you round her up, let me know.”
“Dallas? I’ll write up the report. I’d like to,” Peabody added. “Feels like taking it all the way through.”
“I’ll remind you of that when this goes to court.”
Eve walked through the bull pen and to her office.
It was a stingy room with barely any space for the desk, a spare chair, and the skinny pane of glass masquerading as a window. She didn’t have any problem spotting the woman.
She sat in the spare chair, sipping coffee from a recyclable cup. Her hair was reddish blond, worn in a cap that had apparently exploded into curls. Her skin was very white, except for the pink on her cheeks, the pink on her lips. Her eyes were grass green.
Middle fifties, Eve judged, filing it all away in a fingersnap. A big-boned body in a green dress with black collar and cuffs. Black heels, and the requisite enormous black purse sitting neatly on the floor by her feet.
She squeaked when Eve came in, nearly spilled the coffee, then hastily set it aside.
“There you are!”
She leaped up, the pink in her face deepening, her eyes going bright. There was a twang to her voice, and something in it set Eve’s nerves on edge.
“Mrs. Lombard? You’re not allowed to wander around the offices.”
“I just wanted to see where you worked. Why, honey, just look at you.” She rushed forward, and would have had Eve in an embrace if Eve’s reflexes weren’t so quick.
“Hold it. Who are you? What do you want?”
Those green eyes widened, went swimming. “Why, honey, don’t you know me? I’m your mama!”
2
COLD RIMED HER BELLY, FROSTED ITS WAY UP to her throat. She couldn’t breathe through the ice of it. The woman’s arms were around her now; she was powerless to stop them. She was smothered by them, by the overwhelming scent of roses. And the teary voice—Texas,