The In Death Collection Books 21-25 - J. D. Robb [245]
“Property, perhaps. Or a trip. Art, jewelry.”
“Got jewelry, and can’t wear it too much outside her own house. People would get ideas. But if she planned to relocate . . . I’ve got to check, see if she had a valid passport. When she got it, or renewed it. She’s got Bobby, but he’s grown up now, married now. Not so much at her beck and call. That’s a pisser.”
“A new home, a new location. Somewhere she can live in the manner she deserves to live. A staff of some kind.”
“Need someone to boss around, sure. This isn’t the kind of stake you just put in a bank somewhere. Especially since—you can put money on it—she planned to keep tapping you. Can’t stick around good old Texas, where people know you. You’re freaking rich now. Gotta enjoy it.”
“What does that tell you regarding the investigation? If you find she’d made inquiries about a property, or travel, what does it give you besides busywork?”
“Busywork’s underrated. Maybe she let something slip, to Bobby, to Zana, to someone else. Maybe we use Peabody’s favorite—there’s a hot young lover out there, someone she had by the short hairs, or someone who got greedy. Can circle back to revenge. One of her former charges is keeping tabs on her, or is being used by her, and gets wind she’s got a big deal going.”
She nudged her plate aside. “I want to play this angle. You finished?”
“Nearly. No dessert?”
“I’m fine as is.”
“They have gelato.” His grin was quick, brilliant. “Chocolate.”
“Bastard.” She fought her inner war, her weakness. “You think we can get it to go?”
It was interesting, Eve decided, when you looked in a direction that didn’t seem relevant. The little pieces that shuffled down. Maybe not into the puzzle yet, but waiting for you to find the fit.
“Her passport’s current.” She scooped up the decadent delight of rich chocolate. “Had one for twelve years. And she traveled. Funny nobody mentioned that. Spain, Italy, France. She liked Europe, but there’s Rio, and Belize, and Bimini. Exotic locales.”
“Nothing off planet?” he asked.
“Nothing she used this passport for. I’m betting she liked sticking to terra firma. Off planet takes a lot of time, and a lot of money. And while she traveled, she was in and out—with few exceptions—in a few days. Longest I find here’s ten days in Italy. Went in through Florence. And had another trip there, one day, the week before she came to New York.”
“Maybe a weakness for Tuscany,” Roarke suggested.
“Quick trips, though.” She drummed her fingers, ate more gelato. “Could be she made them on the q.t. Didn’t tell her son. I’ve got to go back, find out if she traveled alone or with a companion.”
She studied the data. “Had a reason for going back to Italy right before she came here to make her score. Looking over there, you bet your ass. Thinking she might like to find herself a villa.”
“It would take some time, but I could find out if she made inquiries about property with a realtor over there.”
“She’d know something about the ins and out, wouldn’t she, with a son in the business.”
She sat back, sighed. “So here’s one way. She’s looking to relocate, plop herself down to live the high life after she skins you.”
“I object to the term. No one skins me.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t get that. Time to start enjoying her hard-earned nest egg. Deck herself out in all those glitters she’s been paying insurance premiums for. Time to kick up her heels. Got herself in tune for it. She’s tapped out a couple of her income sources, but they’re finite anyway. She hits the jackpot, and she can move on. Retire.”
“What does she tell her family?”
Think like her, Eve ordered herself. It wasn’t so hard to do. “Her son’s replaced her with a wife. Ungrateful bastard. Doesn’t have to tell him a damn thing. If she intended to tell him, you can bet she’s got something worked out: She won the lottery, got some inheritance, something out of the blue. But she doesn’t need Bobby anymore because she’s