Page 78 of Fury In Death

“And a fine gift it is.” He kissed her now, softly. “I’ll go open it.”

“Thanks. I won’t be long. Under an hour.”

She tackled the board first, added Dent, Morris’s report—no surprises on that—crime scene stills, and all the texts and visuals that went with it.

Then Steven Redman.

She sat, opened her command center, and read through the files Donahue had given her.

Yeah, Eve thought, she’d been thorough, poked into every corner, and had been meticulous in keeping her hours, her travel, all her expenses.

Donahue had copies of the investigator’s report—Feeney’s—and the arson investigator’s report. One Eve had already studied, and yes, they’d been thorough, too.

But.

Something off at B/H, Donahue said in one of the audio notes. Something dirty under all that shine. Not my job, and I don’t have the resources to take it on. But it bugs me. One thing I’m reasonably sure of. Nobody there knows where Redman is.

Lawrence Chu. Redman’s pal, right hand in the lab. Doesn’t know, and not knowing makes him nervous. Not just worried, at least not for Redman’s well-being. Guilt? Fear? Need to keep eyes on him awhile longer.

Eve updated her book, attached Donahue’s files. She wrote her report, copied Peabody, Whitney, Mira, Feeney. Attached the PI’s files.

Then she opened her book again, added:

What did Redman know/find out?

How did person or persons unknown rig an explosion that passed as an accident under the eye of solid, thorough, experienced investigators?

How long was Redman aware and capable before he walked out of the health center?

Money. He’d need some. Where did he get it?

What’s he on and how is he accessing it?

What’s B-W hiding?

She sat back.

She needed to find those answers. Find one, she thought, the others would follow.

So she’d find one.

Rising, she walked back to the updated board.

Had he gone to a friend? The man had kept friends from childhood, high school, college. If he’d gone to a friend, he needed to be sure—no doubts—that friend could and would keep his secret, could afford to give him some money, or a place to hide.

So, she’d run the list, and after that, decide which ones to pull in and in what order.

She glanced over as Roarke came in. He said nothing, only walked over to stand with her, study her board in turn.

“You’ve identified the killer. This would be Olivia Redman’s brother?”

“Yeah. He’s been in the wind for six years. Missing, presumed dead. But he’s not dead. He’s busy making other people dead. I’ll explain.”

“Your gift was very entertaining, but not, I think, in a way that adds to your board or potential body count. I’ll explain. I’ll see to a meal.”

“No, I’ll do it. It won’t be pizza,” she said after he shot her an amused look.

“All right then. I’ll see to some wine. Red or white?”