The In Death Collection Books 21-25 - J. D. Robb [640]
“You said he was a suit. Was that literal or just because he looked like a suit?”
“Both. He was wearing one—I think gray, like the hair and eyebrows. Probably. And he looked like the kind of guy who had a closetful of suits. Three-piece,” she added. “Yeah, yeah, vest, pants, jacket. Little pocket accent and tie. Spiffed, you know? Same in the bar. Dark suit. Nice contrast with the white hair.”
She paused, then rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s just really hitting me. I’d’ve taken the gig. If he’d tagged me back, I’d’ve taken it. Personal day, a nice chunk of change. No harm.”
Her breath trembled out as the color slid out of her cheeks. “He seemed so nice and…I want to say ‘safe.’ Some sweet older guy who wanted to do something special for his sick wife. I’d’ve charged him through the nose, but I’d have taken the job.”
“You didn’t take it,” Eve reminded her. “And he made a mistake trying for you. You pay attention, you notice details and you remember. Listen to me.”
She leaned forward because she could see it was, indeed, just hitting Trina. Not only had she lost color, she was beginning to shake a little. “Look at me and listen to what I’m telling you. He took someone today. Another one today. She’s got some time before he starts on her. He takes time. Are you hearing me?”
“Yeah.” Trina moistened her lips. “Yeah.”
“He made a mistake with you,” Eve repeated. “And what you’re telling me, what you’re going to do tomorrow with the police artist is going to help us get to him. You’re going to help us save her life, Trina. Maybe more than hers. You get that?”
Trina nodded. “Can I get some water, maybe? I just went so dry.”
“Sure. Hold on a minute.”
As Eve went into the kitchen, Roarke stepped into the room. “You’re doing fine,” he said to Trina.
“Got the shakes,” Trina admitted. “Whacked, really. Here I am in the Fortress of Roarke in the Chamber of Dallas. Can’t get any safer than that. And I’ve got the shakes. Mavis?”
“She’s contacting Leonardo. You’ll all stay here tonight, if that suits you.”
“Right down to the ground. Classy place like Bliss. You just don’t expect crazy killers to come in for a manicure. You know?”
“This one likes to work with tidy nails,” Eve commented as she came back with a chilled bottle of water. “I’m going to need that appointment book,” she said to Roarke.
“I’ll see to it. And,” he told Trina, “I’ll make sure you’re covered for tomorrow. Don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks.” She gulped down water. “Okay.”
Eve waited while Trina drank. “Tell me about his voice.”
“Um…Soft, I guess. Quiet. Um…Refined? I think that’s the word. Like somebody educated, and who had the money behind him for a really good one. Kind of culture but not poofy. It was another thing that made him seem nice and safe, now that I think about it.”
“Any accent?”
“Not really. I mean, educated, yeah. Not like an accent though.”
“Distinguishing marks, tats, scars.”
“Nope.” Her voice was steadying, her color coming back. “Not showing.”
“Okay.” It was enough, Eve thought. If she pushed too hard now, it could diminish what Yancy could draw out of Trina the next day. “Anything else you remember, you let me know. I’m going to need the names of everyone who was working the day he came in, who was working the counter where you talked to him, who might have tried to sell him anything in the retail section. I can get most of that from Roarke. I want you to try to get a good night’s sleep.”
“Yeah, so do I. I think I’ll go down and stick with Mavis and Belle for a little while, till I smooth it out a little more.”
“Summerset will show you where you’ll stay tonight. If you need anything,” Roarke added, “just ask.”
“Will do. This is so…complete.” Trina shook her head as she rose. “I’m just going to…” She started out, stopped. “He smelled good.”
“How?”
“Good product—and not smothered in it. Some people don’t know how to be subtle