J. Robb - Seduction In Death

But how did he think of the balcony?

As the rain thickened and began to plop, as her stomach churned at the height, she scanned the street, the neighboring buildings.

"Son of a bitch," she cursed softly as she read the sign:

COFFEE AND A BYTE.

It was hardly more than a hole in the wall. Ten tables fitted with low-end units. Counter service for six. But the coffee smelled fresh and the floors were clean.

The counter was manned by a droid of the fresh-faced, geek variety. His hair was styled to fall in a pointed brown flap across his forehead.

Two of the tables were occupied by the same type in human form, and the waitress was young and too perky not to be another automation.

"Hi! Welcome to Coffee and a Byte. Would you like a table?"

She had poofy blonde hair and lips the color of bubblegum. Her breasts were like two ripe melons that peeked rosily out of the bodice of her snug white top.

Eve imagined the geeks had nightly wet dreams with her name on them.

"I need to ask you some questions. Both of you."

The waitress, Bitsy according to her name tag, replied, "Everything's on the menu, including specials, but either Tad or I will be really happy to explain anything."

Bitsy and Tad. Eve shook her head.Jesus, who thought of this shit?

"Sit down, Bitsy."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not supposed to sit. Would you like to hear about today's coffee beverage?"

"No." Eve pulled out her badge. "This is a police investigation, and I have to ask you some questions."

"We're programmed to cooperate fully with the police and security, the fire, the health, and the emergency medical departments." This was from Tad, who whisked his flap of hair back with his fingers.

"That's good." She sensed movement and shifted to point at the thin-shouldered man who was trying to slide invisibly from behind his table. "There's no trouble here," she told him. "Just questions. Why don't you sit back down, relax? You might be able to answer some of them."

"I didn't do anything."

"Good. Keep not doing anything," she advised.

She turned back to the droids, but kept her body angled so the tables knew she had them in her scope. "You know what happened across the street? The woman who died?"

"Oh yeah." Tad brightened, a student with the answer for the teacher. "She got tossed out the window."

"There you go." Eve took the photo of Bryna Bankhead, laid it on the counter. "Did she ever come in here?"

"No, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am."

He blinked rapidly at that, trying to process. "I'm supposed to call female customers ma'am."

"I'm a cop, not a customer." Except… She sniffed the air. "Is that real coffee?" '

"Oh yes…" His face underwent several expressions, ended up baffled.

"Lieutenant," Eve said helpfully.

"Oh yes, Lieutenant. We serve only genuine soy products, with or without caffeine additives."

"Never mind." She held up the photo so both men at the tables could see it. "Either of you ever see this woman?"

The one who'd tried to slither out the door shifted in his seat. "I guess I did. I didn't do anything."

"We got that part. Where'd you see her?"

"Around. I live a couple blocks down. That's why I come here. It's close and it's not all crowded and noisy and full of freaks and slicks."

"Slicks?"

"You know, the ones who cruise cyber-houses to pick up dates. I do serious work here."

"You ever talk to her?"

"Nah. Women like that don't talk to guys like me. I just saw her sometimes is all. Around the neighborhood. She was really pretty, so I looked at her. I didn't do anything."

"What's your name?"

"Milo. Milo Horndecker."

Doomed,she thought,from birth to geekdom. "Milo, you keep telling me you didn't do anything, I'm going to start thinking you did." She pulled out the three stills of the three faces the killer had used. "Do you know any of these men?" She laid them on the counter first for Tad and Bitsy. And got simultaneous head shakes out of them.

"But they're really pretty, too," Bitsy added.

The negative responses from the customers had Eve re-evaluating. "Okay. You have anyone in here the past few weeks. Somebody who just started coming in recently, hasn't been in since the murder? He'd want to sit near the front window. He'd come around in the mornings, but not after ten. Or in the evenings, but not before six."

She had to shuffle through the files in her head to come up with Bryna's regular work schedule. "If he came in otherwise, it would be on Tuesdays. He'd order fancy coffee. Slim latte grande with chestnut flavoring."

"He came in two Tuesdays in a row." Bitsy bounced on the toes of her pink slippers. "He sat in the front and he always had two lattes while he worked. And then he left."

"Which table?"

"He always used station one. Always." She pursed her bubblegum lips. "It has a nice view of the street."

And Bryna Bankhead's building,Eve thought.

She pulled out her communicator and tagged Feeney. "I'm at a cyber-club across from Bankhead's building. I'm looking at a unit he used. I need an impound warrant and an image tech."

Sitting at station one, Eve drank the genuine soy product with caffeine additives. Beggars couldn't be choosers.

She had only to angle her head to see the twelfth floor of the apartment building across the street. Bryna's apartment windows. The little terraces.

"He likes to be thorough," she said to Feeney. "He's a data addict and needs his input fix. She told him in her e-mails what she usually did on her days off. How she liked to open the windows first thing to see what sort of day it was."

I love to take that first breath of New York in the morning,she'd written.I know what people say about city air, but I think it's so full, so exciting and romantic. All the scents and flavors and colors. I have them all, and on my day off, I bask in them.

"He probably watched her step out on the terrace. Maybe she'd have a cup of coffee out there, standing by the rail. Being a creature of order, she'd tidy up the apartment, get dressed, probably go out shopping awhile. Meet a friend. He would have tailed her, just to make sure what she told him in e-mail clicked with her habits. Want to make sure she lived alone, that there was no boyfriend or whatever to cramp his style. More, he wanted to see how she behaved, how shelooked when she was unaware of him. She had to be good enough to fuck after all."

She looked back at Feeney, who with his magic fingers and droopy eyes was giving the unit its first check. "He's a creature of habit, too," she said. "And the habits are a trail. Can you find him on this?"

"He used it, we can find out when and how. Gonna take time to filter through all the data and find his. But what he put in, we can get out."

With a nod, she pushed away from the table and walked back to where the image tech worked with the droids. The one thing about droids, she thought, was no matter how annoying they might be, their eyes were a reliable camera.

Already she could see the face and features coming to life on the tech's comp-canvas.

Soft face, bland features. A hairline starting to recede from a wide dome of brow and left to shag messily over the ears. The kind of face that passed through a crowd unnoticed, that blended to the point where it was a faint smear on the memory.

Except for the eyes. They were sharp and cold.

Whatever he did to his face, Eve knew when she looked into those eyes, she would know him.

There was no cyber-joint within view of Grace Lutz's building. No coffee shop or little diner. There was a small, walk-in deli with one long narrow aisle, but Eve's morning run of luck ran out there.

She'd sent for Peabody, and her aide walked in just as she was buying a candy bar.