The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [457]
Deciding to leave him to what he did best, she tagged Anne Malloy in the field.
“Hey, Dallas, your sexy husband just left.”
“Oh yeah.” Eve could see the rubble and the E and B teams sifting through it.
“He wanted to see what we had going here, which isn’t any more than you already know, at this point. We’ve transported fragments to the lab. We’re finding more. Your man took a look at a piece of one of the devices and said it was a chunk of high-impact politex, like they use in space construction. Probably from a remote. He could be right.”
He would be right, Eve thought. He was rarely otherwise.
“What does that tell you?”
“A couple of things,” Anne said. “One, at least some of the devices were made from space salvage or parts manufactured for that use. And two, your man’s got a sharp eye.”
“Okay.” She scooped a hand through her hair. “If he’s right, can you trace it?”
“It narrows the field. I’ll be in touch.”
Eve sat back, then out of curiosity looked up politex and its manufacturers.
It didn’t surprise her to see Roarke Industries as one of the four interplanetary companies that made the product. But it did have her rolling her eyes. She noted Branson Toys and Tools also manufactured it. Smaller scale, she noted. On planet only.
She decided to save time and simply ask Roarke for a rundown on the other two companies, then spent the next hour backtracking, picking through old data, weeding through the fresh data McNab transmitted. She was about to go in and harass Peabody for results on the vehicle search when her ’link beeped.
“Dallas.”
“Hey, Dallas!” Mavis Freestone’s delighted smile filled the screen. “Catch this.”
Beside the table, a column of air shimmered, then, in a blink, the hologram image of Mavis standing in the kitchen on skinny ruby heels with bright pink feathers drifting over her toes. She wore a short robe in eyewatering swirls of the same two tones that drooped off one shoulder to display a tattoo of a silver angel playing a gilt harp.
Her hair tumbled in spiraling curls as fat as soy sausages in a mix of gold and silver and glinted with a metallic sheen.
“Mag, huh?” She laughed and did a little bump and grind dance around the kitchen. “My room’s got this way fine holo feature on the ’link. How do I look?”
“Colorful. Nice tattoo.”
“That’s nothing, get this.” Mavis tugged the robe down her other shoulder to reveal a second angel with a little whip tail who carried a pitchfork and wore a maniacal grin. “Good angel, bad angel. Get it?”
“No.” But Eve grinned. “How’s the tour going?”
“Dallas, it is like wow! We’re going just everywhere and the crowds are panic city when I perform. And Roarke’s got us the most amazing transpo and all the hotels are absolutely the ult.”
“Ult?”
“Ultimate. Today, I’ve got this appearance at a music center to sign discs and a bunch of interviews with media, then a gig at the Dominant here in Houston. It’s like packed. I hardly have time to do hair.”
Eve skimmed her gaze off the shiny curls. “But you manage.”
“Yeah, I’d never get it all done if Leonardo hadn’t come with me. Hey, Leonardo, I’ve got Dallas here. Come say hi.” Mavis laughed and bounced on her heels. “She doesn’t care if you’re naked.”
“Yes, she does,” Eve corrected. “You look happy, Mavis.”
“Beyond. Dallas, I’m totally D and D.”
“Drunk and disorderly.”
“No.” Mavis giggled again and turned circles. “Dazed and delirious. It’s everything I always wanted and didn’t know. When I come back, I’m going to kiss Roarke all over his face.”
“I’m sure he’ll enjoy that.”
“I know I will.” This time Mavis cackled. “Leonardo says he’s not jealous, and maybe he’ll kiss Roarke, too. Anyway, how are things on the home front?” Before Eve could answer, Mavis tilted her head, then sighed. “You haven’t seen Trina.”
Eve paled a little, squirmed in her chair. “Trina? Trina who?”
“Come on, Dallas, you said you were going to get her