The In Death Collection Books 21-25 - J. D. Robb [526]
Inside the woman was smiling, with her cheek pressed to the cheek of a girl’s face. Flowers bloomed all around the edges and a wide rainbow curved at the top. The sentiment read:
I’LL ALWAYS BE HERE TO MAKE YOU SMILE! LOVE, YOUR OWN RAYLEEN
Eve noted Allika had written the date on the back of the card. January 10, 2057.
In the closet she found some art supplies, a paint smock, clear boxes filled with things like glass marbles, stones, beads, ribbons, silk flowers. Hobby stuff, Eve supposed, all as organized as the rest of the place.
And on the top shelf, behind boxes of supplies, a large and lovely fabric-covered box with a jeweled latch.
Eve took it down, opened it. Found the dead son.
Here were the photographs, from infant to toddler. A beaming and pregnant Allika, a dreamy-eyed Allika holding an infant wrapped in a blue blanket. Pictures of the baby boy with his big sister, with his father, and so on.
She found a swatch of the blanket, a lock of downy hair, a small stuffed dog, a single plastic block.
Eve thought of the memory box Mavis and Leonardo had given her and Roarke one Christmas. This was Allika’s memory box, dedicated to her son.
How often did she take it out, Eve wondered. Look through all the pictures, rub that blue fabric between her fingers or stroke that lock of hair against her cheek?
Yet she kept it all on a high shelf at the back of a closet. Tucked away. And not one memento of the boy, that Eve had seen, touched the rest of the house.
Why?
She went through it all, every piece. Then replaced it and put the box back.
When she finished with the room, she stepped over to where Peabody was just winding up with Straffo’s home office.
“Nearly done here. McNab started on the master bedroom up here so we wouldn’t get in each other’s way. Boxed a lot of discs and files. Nothing’s popped out though.”
“You find anything on the kid? Their dead kid?”
“Who? Oh, oh, right. Forgot. No, nothing here on their son.” Peabody stopped, frowned. “Nothing,” she repeated. “That’s kind of odd, really.”
“One more thing. There’s a stash of decorating clippings in Allika’s sitting room. Lissette had some in her cube.”
“Yeah, she did. So maybe they crossed there?” Peabody frowned, shrugged. “Maybe. But I’ve got a stash of my own, and a bunch of decorating sites bookmarked on my home comp. Don’t you ever…Forget I nearly asked,” Peabody said when Eve stared at her.
“It’s worth checking out. Running the name by Lissette, showing her Allika’s picture.”
“Okay. Do you want me to tag her now, ask her?”
“Yeah, let’s cross that off the list, then take the master bedroom next.” She walked over. McNab turned. “Anything shaking?” she asked him.
“Steady as they go. A lot of incomings and outgoings, but nothing that pops. Mostly personal data—banking, marketing, schedules, and like that on the main-level units. Nanny’s unit more of the same. Talks to family and pals back in Ireland a couple times a week, e-mails regular. All chatty, little bits on the Straffos and the kid, but nothing that’d make you jump.”
“Keep looking.”
It didn’t take long for Eve to discern that both Straffos preferred good fabrics in classic cuts—and plenty of it. The his and hers closets were spacious and pristine, and loaded.
Shoes were organized according to type and tone and all in clear protective boxes. Wardrobe was color-coordinated into groupings. Casual, work, cocktail, black-tie. The more formal wear hung with ID tags that described the outfit, when and where it had been worn.
If they liked sex toys, those playthings had been smuggled out before the warrant was executed. The nightstand drawers held book discs, memo cubes, minilights.
But there was some very provocative lingerie in Allika’s dresser, and a varied selection of body creams and oils. Since there’d been a reminder in Allika’s date book to renew her semiannual birth control, sex was likely part of the regularly scheduled events.
She found antianxiety