Page List


Font:  

“I’m a cop,” Eve reminded her. “That line doesn’t work on me.” She rang the bell, waited. She watched the security light blink to green, kept her face blank while she and her companions were scanned. Moments later, Skinner opened the door himself.

“Lieutenant. It’s a bit late for paying calls.”

“It’s never too late for official calls. Chief Angelo, Douglas Skinner.”

“Pardon the intrusion, Commander Skinner.” Darcia’s voice was low and respectful, her face quietly sober. “We have some unfortunate news. May we come in?”

“Of course.” He stepped back. He was dressed in the long white robe provided by the hotel, and his face looked pale against it. The large living area was dimly lit and fragrant from the bouquets of roses. He ordered the lights up 10 percent, and gestured toward the sofa.

“Please, ladies, sit. Can I get you anything? Coffee, perhaps?”

“We’re not here to chat. Where were you between twenty-two hundred and midnight?”

“I don’t like your tone, Lieutenant.”

“Please, excuse us.” Darcia stepped in smoothly. “It’s been a difficult night. If I could ask you to verify your whereabouts, as a formality?”

“My wife and I came up to our suite a bit after ten. We retired early, as I have a long, busy day scheduled tomorrow. What’s happened?”

“Weeks got his brains bashed in,” Eve said.

“Weeks? Reggie?” Skinner stared at Eve. Those hard blue eyes widened, darkened, and seemed to draw a cast of gray over his skin as shock shifted into fury. “Dead? The boy is dead? Have you determined Roarke’s whereabouts? Or would you go so far as to cover up murder to protect him? She attacked Weeks only hours ago.” He pointed at Eve. “An unprovoked and vicious assault on one of mine because I questioned her about her alliance with a criminal. You’re a disgrace to your badge.”

“One of us is,” Eve agreed as Skinner sank into a chair.

“Commander.” Darcia stepped forward. “I know this is a shock for you. I want to assure you that the Olympus PD is actively pursuing all avenues of investigation.”

For a moment he said nothing, and the only sound was his quick, labored breathing. “I don’t know you, Chief Angelo, but I know who pays you. I have no confidence in your investigation as long as it’s bankrolled by Roarke. Now, excuse me. I have nothing more to say at this time. I need to contact Reggie’s wife and tell her she’s a widow.”

4

“Well, that went well.” Eve rolled her shoulders as she headed back to the elevator.

“If one doesn’t mind being accused of being a fool or a dirty cop.”

Eve punched the elevator button. “Ever hear the one about sticks and stones in Colombia?”

“I don’t like that one.” Obviously stewing, Darcia strode onto the elevator. “And I don’t like your Commander Skinner.”

“Hey, he’s not mine.”

“He implied Roarke is my puppet master. Why does he assume that, and why does he believe Roarke is responsible for Weeks’s death?”

The quiet, respectful woman was gone, and in her place was a tough-eyed cop with steel in her voice. Eve began to see how Darcia Angelo had risen through twelve years in Colombia.

“One reason is Weeks annoyed me, and since I’m just a procreating, nurturing female, it would be up to my warrior, defender, penis-owning husband to follow through.”

“Ah.” Darcia sucked in her cheeks. “This is an attitude I recognize. Still, splattering a man’s brains is considerable overcompensation for such a minor infraction. A very large leap of conclusion for the commander to make. There’s more.”

“Might be. I haven’t worked it out yet. Meanwhile, Skinner seemed awfully alert for someone who’d already gone to bed. And while the lights in the living area were on low when we walked in, they were full on in the bedroom off to the right. He didn’t close the door all the way when he came out.”

“Yes, I noticed that.”

“Suite’s set up along the same basic floor plan as the one I’m in. Second bedroom off to the left. There was a light on in there, too. His wife had that door open a crack. She was listening.”

“I didn’t catch that,” Darcia mused, then glanced back when Peabody muttered.

“She missed it, too,” Eve said. “She hates that. And if Belle Skinner was eavesdropping from the second bedroom


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery