Working . . .
“Pull up any incoming communication or data from Peabody, Detective Delia.”
Secondary command in progress. Initial command complete.
“Why doesn’t my office comp work this fast?”
Would you like a scan and diagnosis of this specific computer?
“What’s the point? Negative.”
Acknowledged. Secondary command complete.
“Give me Peabody’s data first. On screen.”
Data on screen.
She’d been right on Felicity’s age. Barely twenty-one. Born Shipshewana, Indiana, one of three offsprings—all female—of Jonas and Zoe Prinze, with Felicity being the youngest. No criminal, not even a little dent, unless she counted two minor traffic violations during the teenage years.
And she didn’t.
Graduated high school, and Peabody had added the shiny bits. Homecoming queen, captain of the cheerleaders, the lead in the school musical two years running, president of the theater club.
Two years community college, majoring in theater.
Employed, part-time, for three years at Go-Hop as a server.
Relocated to New York, resided for seven months in Alphabet City—a flop, Eve noted, reading Peabody’s research on the address—that rented by the hour, day, or week.
Employed as a dancer, Starshine Club, for three months. Current residence, the big, shiny apartment overlooking the river.
No marriages, no cohabs, no current employment.
A corn-fed, naive kid, potentially with some talent, with big dreams, who got herself scooped up by some guy twice her age. Who was potentially a killer.
Eve added her notes, compiling them into a report.
As she read it over, refined it, the side door opened.
Roarke walked in.
“Did you get lost?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re working in the garage?”
“It was here, and it’s quiet, and I only needed a few minutes.” She glanced at her wrist unit, winced. “Or so.”
She’d refine later, if necessary, but shot the report to Peabody, to Mira, and as an update to her commander.
“That’s it. I’m going in. Why are there more trees?”
“Than what?”
“Than we already had. Guys were hauling in more trees when I drove up. Why?”
“Because it’s Christmas.” He took her hand. “If you need more time, you don’t have to take it in the garage.”
“It’s nice in here. A vehicle palace with technology and snacks. But that’s it for now.”
She could always slip away later, squeeze in a little more.