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“I get the picture. What did you find?”

Feeney sulked a little, crunched on nuts. “I uncloaked one transmission so far. Looks like he did three, maybe four more. The one I stripped down went to an account registered to Stefanie Finch. A lot of mushy stuff.”

“Shoot the mushy stuff and her address to my units. You’re a cyber-wizard, Feeney.”

That soothed his ruffles. “Yeah, don’t I know it. I gotta take a couple hour’s medical, get a quick eye fix. Detective Cyber-Wiz here’ll keep on it.”

“I’m in the field. Peabody, with me. Peel off,” she ordered as she strode out and toward a glide. “Snag me an energy bar or something, meet me in the garage in ten. I need to stop by my office first.”

“There’s vending right outside the bullpen.”

“The vending machines around here hate me. They steal my credits and laugh in my face.”

“You’ve had your vending privileges suspended again for kicking the equipment, haven’t you?”

“I didn’t kick it, I punched it. And just get me the damn bar.” Without waiting for a response, Eve hopped the glide and flipped out her communicator to check in with the imaging tech.

Peabody merely sighed and backtracked to the closest food vender. She was perusing the choices, debating between energy or chemical sweetener for herself when McNab came up behind her.

Since their session the night before, she expected him to go for a little pinch or grab. But he dipped his hands into two of the twelve pockets in his butter yellow trousers and just stood there.

“You doing okay?” he asked her.

“Yeah, just ordering up a few boosts.” Figuring Dallas could have them both in the field for hours yet, she went for energy and sweetener.

“I figure you’re bent about what happened. You shouldn’t be. Stuff like that doesn’t mean anything.”

Thinking of pizza, and the frantic bout of sex on her living room floor, the second, more thorough session in her bed, she felt her stomach tighten. “Right. Who said it meant anything?”

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t be like, embarrassed or upset.”

She turned to him, kept her face absolutely stone still. “Do I look embarrassed or upset to you?”

“Look, you don’t want to talk about it, fine with me.” His personal sense of outrage leaped up, snagged him by the throat. Charles had all but rubbed his new lady in Peabody’s face, and she still couldn’t see him for what he was. “Everybody knows it was never going anywhere. If you thought otherwise, then you deserve just what you get.”

“Thanks for the bulletin. And you can just . . .” She searched for something, and settled on Eve’s favored suggestion. “Bite me.” Shoving him aside with her elbow, she marched to the nearest glide.

“Fine.” He kicked the vending machine, storming off as it issued the standard warning. If she wanted to get twisted up over having her pet LC trot another woman out under her nose, why the hell should he care?

By the time Peabody made it to the garage she’d eaten her energy bar and started on the candy. And she was steaming. Already in the vehicle, Eve merely held out a hand. Then hissed when Peabody slapped the bar into her palm sharply enough to burn.

“I should have kicked his ass. Just mopped the floor with his skinny, bony ass.”

“Christ.” In defense, Eve shot out of her slot. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting, I’m finished. Pig bastard wants to stand there and tell me I shouldn’t be embarrassed, shouldn’t be upset because last night didn’t mean anything?”

I will not listen, I will not listen, I will not listen, Eve repeated over and over in her head. “Finch lives on Riverside Drive. Alone. Employed as shuttle pilot for Inter-Commuter Air.”

“He’s the one who came knocking on my door with his pitiful pizza and big sloppy smile.”

“She’s twenty-four,” Eve said desperately. “Single. Perfect fit for target profile of killer number one.”

“And who’s everyone? Who the hell is everyone?”

“Peabody, if I just agree that McNab is a pig bastard, that you should kick his ass, even give you my solemn word that I will help you kick the pig bastard’s ass at the first reasonable opportunity, can we pretend we’re focused on this investigation?”

“Yes, sir.” Peabody sniffed. “But I’d appreciate it if you would not speak the pig bastard’s name in my presence ever again.”


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery