“Dark gray’s dull, you ask me. Pewter’s got a soft gleam. But anyway, yeah. It was white when I saw him at the bar the other time. If it was him, which I pretty much think it was. Fluffy and white. Nice. Don’t know why he’d go for pewter when he has the Snow Cap going.”
“White hair. You’re saying that wasn’t a wig.”
“It was a glimpse—a quick ‘Oh, hey, I know that guy.’ But yeah, at a glimpse it looked like his own topper. Not a hundred percent on that one.”
“Eyes?”
“Jeez. Look, Dallas, I don’t know for sure. I’m thinking light. On the light side, but I’m not sure if we’re talking blue or green or gray, hazel. But I’m almost sure they weren’t dark. You know, the hair enhancer looked off to me from the get, because it was dark, and the rest of him wasn’t. He had really good skin.”
“How so?”
“Pale, soft-looking. Some lines, sure, but not dug in. He takes care of his skin. No jowly stuff going on either, so he’s maybe had a little work. He had a nice smooth texture to his skin.”
“Pale,” Eve mumbled. Pale hair, pale eyes, pale skin. A pale man. Maybe the Romanian psychic hadn’t been completely full of shit.
“Yeah, yeah. He colored his eyebrows to match the enhancer. It was off, just a little. Mostly you wouldn’t notice, but it’s my business to notice. White in the bar when I was figuring to give this guy I was drinking with the ride of his life.”
“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.”