The In Death Collection Books 26-29 - J.D. Robb [17]
“You and McNab live together.”
“Yeah, well, see, that’s kind of the point.” Peabody dragged the visitor’s chair over, picked up her wrap, and chowed down. “We realized we didn’t want the cohab thing to take the romance out of things. The spark. So we instituted Date Night. Tonight’s the first, so I really want to get home in time to buff myself up. Special, you know? Kick him in the balls special.”
“If you want to kick him in the balls—and I often want to myself—you should stay home.”
“Dallas.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Take the hour, buff and polish, kick him in the balls.”
“Thanks. We’re going to this club, and not one of those bump-and-fuck joints,” Peabody added, gesturing with a soy chip before popping it into her mouth to crunch. “But where you actually go to listen to music and dance with each other and stuff. I really want to look extreme, so you know, need that hour.”
“Fine. You’ll be making it up tomorrow. You need to report to Nadine’s studio at Channel 75 at seventeen hundred.”
“Whafo?” Peabody asked with a mouthful of veggie hash.
“She’ll interview you on the Anders case, so make sure you’re—”
“What? On the air? Me?” She choked, whistled out a breath while her eyes wheeled, then glugged down Diet Pepsi. “No.”
“You’ll be representing the department, and this division, so don’t screw it up.”
“But…But people watch Now. Practically everybody. I can’t—”
“Screw it up. Exactly.” It was small, it was mean, but Eve couldn’t deny Peabody’s reaction made the pretend turkey almost tasty. “Nadine has respect for cops, and for the process, but she’s still a reporter. She’s sneaky. Don’t forget that. You give the facts I’ll clear you to give, and the feel, your own take, but when she presses you—and she will—on investigative details, you block. Standard, I’m not at liberty.”
Faintly green now, Peabody pressed a hand to her belly. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“You boot on my desk, I’ll throw your gagging body out my window. You won’t have to worry about going on screen.”
“Can’t you do it? You’re used to it.”
“No, I can’t do it, and you need to get used to it.”
“I don’t know what to wear.”
“Oh sweet, suffering Christ.” Eve pressed her fingers against the twitching muscle beside her eye. “Window, Peabody. Headfirst.”
“You couldn’t fit me through that stupid window.”
“Let’s find out.”
“Okay, okay, okay. Now my head’s all screwed up.”
“Unscrew it. We’ve got a few matters just a smidge more important than your date night and on-air debut. The vic was tranqed twice.”
“What—who. Wait.” Closing her eyes, Peabody took several deep breaths. “Anders. Okay, I’m back. Anders was tranqed?”
“Pressure syringe.” Eve tapped her finger on the side of her neck. “Heavy dose of barbs, enough to knock out a horse. There were also traces of a sleep aid, standard over-the-counter. Preliminary take is this was ingested, probably three to four hours before TOD. The combo dropped him out. The killer could’ve performed brain surgery on him, and Anders wouldn’t have noticed.”
“Why not just give him a fatal dose? Why the big show?”
“Good question, and one of the reasons I haven’t yet thrown you headfirst out the window. The show was as important as the murder. Disgrace? Revenge? A discarded lover who wanted him to pay? Is it smart, or is it sloppy?”
Peabody considered that over another chip. “If you wanted it to come off as it looked on the surface—accidental death due to erotic asphyxiation—you don’t load him up with barbs. Maybe a mild tranq, sure, to disorient him while you do the bondage. Take your time after that, set the scene, let the tranq wear off some. If you’re going to go to all that trouble, it seems like you want him to suffer. If you want him to suffer, why knock him out so he can’t?”
“More good questions. You’re redeeming yourself. I’m going to send the file to Dr. Mira. I’d like her profile and opinion on this. Could be the killer overdid the barbs. He had a massive dose of erectile enhancer in there, too.
“It feels personal, but let’s run it through IRCCA for like crimes. We’ll start trying to run down the restraints,