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Details mattered, Eve mused—even shoes. So she pressed. “Do you remember if she seemed close to any of the women, developed a bond?”

“I don’t know. I said I barely … Wait, I did hear she gave one of the group some money. The one I said got smacked around. I don’t know if it’s true, just something somebody said.”

“Who? Who said it, who got the money? Two murders, Leah, don’t make me bring you in.”

“Goddamn it. I don’t remember who told me. It might have been Jasmine, it might have been one of the others. It was Una. If you’re talking to Natalia, ask Natalia because Una wouldn’t hurt a fly. She was

a sweet woman trying to make a life for her kid after getting shafted. If Darla did give her some money to help, good for her. That’s all I know.”

“I appreciate it.”

Eve clicked off, sat back, and wondered just how to track down a single parent named Una.

But right now, she needed to get to Mira.

She went out to the bullpen, stopped at Peabody’s desk.

“I’m heading to Mira.”

“I was just about to let you know, I talked to the London partner. He finally tagged me back. He claims he didn’t know anything about the harassment—or the drugging, the rapes. And seemed pretty grim about it. He did say he knew McEnroy—his word—strayed. That he had a thing, and always had for redheads, which to him—the partner—showed McEnroy loved his wife. He fell for her, a brunette, built a life, had a family. But he strayed from time to time.”

Peabody managed a simultaneous hiss and eye roll. “It’s ‘strayed’ like, you know, he made a wrong turn walking to the bank. Anyway, the partner’s coming into New York to try to handle things here, and he says he’ll do whatever he can for the widow. He’ll make himself available once he’s in New York, for interview if you want to speak to him.”

“And the other partner?”

“Apparently scrambling to try to put out fires the murder, and the scandal attached, have lit. The company’s taking a hit. Lawsuits threatened. I believe this guy with the grim.”

“Keep at it. It’s not going to involve the company, unlikely the partners, but let’s tie up all the threads.”

She rolled it around as she took the glides to Mira’s level. No, not the company, not the partners, any more than it had to do with Pettigrew’s law firm or partners.

It came down to the men themselves, sex, rape, greed.

She found Mira’s dragon of an admin at her post. The woman gave her own wrist unit a hard look but, as Eve hit the outer office exactly on time, couldn’t work up a bitch.

“You’re cleared to go in, Lieutenant.”

Mira, her sun-tipped mink-colored hair falling in a curly bob, stood by her AutoChef. Spring obviously inspired the trim lilac suit, the shoes of a few shades deeper with skinny heels so clear they looked like glass.

She’d added small purplish dangles to her ears, a trio of thin, braided chains around her neck, and as always, looked simply perfect.

She smiled at Eve, her soft blue eyes warming. “I’m just making tea—and yes, I know, but I think you could use something calmer than coffee by this time of your day. You’ve been at it since before dawn.”

“She likes to kill early, after a long night.”

“Yes, I’ve read the reports.” Mira gestured to one of her blue scoop chairs as she brought over two delicate cups of floral-scented tea.

“Now.” She handed Eve one, sat, crossed her very fine legs. “You say she, and I’m going to agree the killer is female, a justice seeker who believes she’s enacted that justice by the violent murder of men who have misused other women.”

“The violence escalated with the second victim.”

“It often does, as we know. And executing—as I believe she sees it—two men in two nights is not only vindicating, but exciting.”

“Could she have had a more personal issue with Pettigrew?”

“It’s certainly possible, but if she kills again, somewhat less likely. She killed him not first, but second. If there are more victims it’s less likely, as the more personal would more likely be saved for the end. The crescendo, so to speak.”

“Maybe she doesn’t have an end in mind. McEnroy was a kind of practice. Can I pull this off? Yeah, I can, so move on to the personal target.”


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery