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Slick, fast, done, Eve thought.

“Did you check the purse, that bag?”

“Gym bag—yoga-type clothes, confirmed by office pal. She had a seven-thirty yoga class. A couple blocks away,” Trueheart added. “She’s got her wallet, her ’link, a mini tablet, her swipe ID for work, and what we assume are her apartment keys. The friend can confirm that. Other personal items, you know, the makeup and hair stuff.”

Nodding, Eve checked her wrist unit. She’d hoped Peabody would arrive before she took the roommate.

“You’re right.” Eve pushed to her feet. “This connects to mine, no way around it. I’m going to step on your toes, Baxter.”

He lifted his shoulders, dropped them. “Figured. You want the assist?”

“I do. Peabody’s on the way. Trueheart, since the roommate’s already talked to you, we’ll take her together. You can call it, Baxter. Bagged and tagged, and the sweepers are going to want to do what they do.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She glanced around, surprised not to find Roarke behind her.

“Whenever Roarke gets back from wherever, tell him—”

She broke off as he stepped inside the shield with a take-out tray of coffee. “It’s a cold night,” he said.

“You are the man.” Baxter helped himself.

“You can be the man with Baxter,” she told Roarke. “I have statements to take inside. With me, Trueheart.”

They’d blocked off the front lobby area, detouring anyone leaving or coming in for business to alternates.

Eve saw the two male witnesses sitting together with a uniform, and the female, weeping silently, several feet away with another.

“What’s her name?”

“Terren Alta.”

Eve walked to her. “Miss Alta, I’m Lieutenant Dallas. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Okay.” The tears spilled and flowed. “They said I can’t tag her mom. Her mom’s really nice. We go over and have dinner sometimes.”

Trueheart signaled for the uniform to leave, moved in. “Don’t worry, Terren. We’ll talk to her mom.”

“Kellie’s just … I don’t feel like it’s real, but I can’t stop crying.”

“You talked to her before she left tonight.” Eve sat.

“Yeah. She said she was heading to yoga, and I said, see you at home. I’m working on The Glory Hour. We come into work and leave together otherwise, but I got assigned to The Glory Hour. It’s new this winter, so I don’t come in until later, and don’t leave until nine-thirty. Sometimes ten.

“She’s my roommate. When Kendra moved out and in with her boyfriend, Haley and I needed another roommate. Kellie and I got to be friends at work, and she was commuting from her mom’s in Queens because she couldn’t afford a place on her own, so I said how about sharing the apartment with me and Haley, and … It doesn’t matter, does it?”

“You were friends, and this is hard. Did she have a boyfriend?”

“Nobody special. She dates sometimes, but mostly the work keeps you going, and none of us are much interested in anything serious. Haley had a girlfriend for a few months, but it didn’t work out. And that doesn’t matter, either. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Did she date anybody from work, or hang out with anyone in particular?”

“It’s not smart to date out of the work pool, and she’s smart. It gets sticky. She had friends, sure, but since she moved in—like, six months ago—we’ve been hanging more. The three of us.”

“Was this her usual time to leave?”

“It depends on the work, but yoga nights she’d take off about seven. She’d stay later than usual because the gym’s close by. Otherwise, she’d be out by five-thirty or six. Maybe six-thirty like.”


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