Page 118 of Fury In Death

“I’ll keep my present, thank you. I’ll get back to you.”

When the screen went blank, Eve glanced at Peabody. “Don’t you think it’s unwise, at the least, to drool over your superior officer’s spouse right in front of her?”

“I did not drool. I made a concerted effort not to drool. Why are sweaty guys so sexy?”

“I’d say it depends on how they got sweaty, and that not all sweaty guys are created equal.”

“You know, that’s true. Very true. Anyway, I don’t have a single male bouncing. He could have a side piece in Bora Bora.”

“I don’t think so. We’ll start checking hotels, rentals. High-end. He’s going to try to catch his breath there. Scared, rushed, everything in a hurry, yeah, needs a couple days to settle.”

“We can’t pull him back unless—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But we’ll keep track of him until we can.”

Her screen signaled. No one was faster than Roarke.

“He’s transferred all but three million into a single account under the name Seth Connor. His wife has her own account, and he left that alone. The rest comes from his own, and their joint holdings. He’s in Bora Bora, by the way.”

“How did you—never mind. We had that data. Appreciate the rest.”

“I’ve a bit more to see to in Midtown, then I can head home or to you.”

She wanted to pull him in, have him join the geeks in EDD. But that wasn’t just stepping on Feeney’s toes. It stomped on them.

“Feeney’ll tag you if he wants you. I’m probably going to wrap things up here in the next hour, then work it from home.”

“I’ll see you there then. Hello and good-bye, Peabody.”

“Hi, bye! Sexy and smart,” she added when Eve pulled into Central. “McNab’s sexy and smart, in a different way. I like his way.”

“His way needs to break that goddamn code.”

Chapter Seventeen

On the elevator, she rocked from toes to heels, prepared to shove off when it started to fill up. This time she fell into a pocket of elevator luck and made it to Homicide with only three stops.

Since Jenkinson and Reineke weren’t at their desks, she looked at Baxter.

“They caught one. Carmichael and Santiago are wrapping one up. My boy and I are holding down the fort and clearing some paperwork.

“Forget the paperwork.”

“Words that bring a tear to my eye. How about you, Trueheart?”

“Can’t talk about it. Chokes me up.”

“Bora Bora.”

“I’ll grab my go bag.”

“Grab your ’link, start checking high-end hotels, resorts, rentals. Single White male, late fifties. He would’ve checked in about . . . Peabody?”

“Shuttle landed at nineteen-twenty local time.”

“Okay, so look between nineteen-thirty and twenty-one hundred. Peabody’s going to send you an ID shot to share with desk clerks and managers. He may be going by the name Seth Connor. We do not want him alerted to our inquiry.”

“Got it. Trueheart and I hereby volunteer to go pick him up.”