J. Robb - Creation In Death

“Creepy.”

“Yeah.” Dipping her hands into her pockets, Eve rocked back on her heels. “Maybe he’s always worked this way, or worked this way before. The prior personal contact, the maneuvering the target to go to him. We’ll go back over the old cases with that angle. And we’ll look at the projected targets in this one with that in mind.”

“Dallas? What are we looking for here? I mean, here in her place.”

“Her. Gia Rossi. He knows the pieces of her, or thinks he does. Let’s see what we find.”

I t was what they didn’t find that added weight to Eve’s theory. However cramped and messy the living space, Gia Rossi kept her exercise and music discs meticulously organized.

“Two slots empty in her workout disc tree, three empty in her music disc tree. The way she’s got them alphabetized, I’m guessing cardio and yoga on the fitness end. We’ll check the personal effects Baxter took from her gym locker.”

“She’s got a lot of personal equipment. Hand weights, ankle and wrist weights, mats, medicine balls, running track.” Peabody gestured inside the closet that Rossi had outfitted for equipment storage. “I’m guessing some’s missing. Lightest and heaviest ankle weights, light and heavy resistance ropes.”

“Light for him, heavy for her. Takes some basic equipment, some music, the demo vids. You ever work with a PT?”

“No.” Peabody flexed her butt muscles, wondering if that was the way to reduce the square footage of her ass. “You?”

“No, but I’m betting a good one would outline a program for a client-something specifically created for his body type, age, weight, goals, and so on. If she did it here, EDD can find it. Let’s go.”

R oarke walked into a war room full of chatter of both the human and electronic varieties. Cops on ’links, on headsets, on comps. Cops sitting, pacing, dancing.

But his cop was nowhere to be seen.

He crossed paths with McNab, who was outfitted in silver jeans and a casual Sunday sweatshirt of searing orange. “Is the lieutenant in the house?”

“In the field. Heading in, though. Working some fresh angles. You want?”

“I want.”

Tapping the toes of his silver airboots, McNab swiveled in his chair. “Just covered all public and private transpo with pictures of York and Rossi. Dallas is working the idea that our guy provided transpo.”

“And they just hopped in?”

“Yeah. Need liquid. Walk and talk.”

McNab filled Roarke in as he headed out to Vending, debated his choices, and opted for an orange fizzy-perhaps to match his shirt.

“A home lesson or consultation,” Roarke mused. “Interesting, and it would eliminate the risk of any sort of public abduction. Still, the method has its own risks and problems.”

“Yeah, what if they change their minds, don’t show, decide to bring a pal along. Lots of possibles.” He sucked in fizzy. “But she wants it worked, so we work it. She said if you popped in, you should take a look at your employee list with this angle in mind. Women who fit the parameters who might do a house call on the side.”

“Yes, I can do that.”

“Lots of possibles,” McNab repeated, “considering all the pies you’ve got fingers in. Anything moving on the real estate angle?”

“Nothing that stands out from the crowd, no.”

“Sometimes you’ve got to toss it up, you know. Let it fall in a different pattern. You keep working it, it gets so it’s just data. Maybe I could take that for a while while you work the new business.”

“Fresh eyes. Yes, that’s a good idea.”

“Icy, then…Hey, here come our ladies. Just looking at them gives you the uh, doesn’t it?” McNab gave the sound a push that was unmistakably sexual as he grinned down the long corridor where Peabody got off the glide with Eve.

Then he shot Roarke a quick look. “I mean the uh me for mine, you for yours. It’s not like I get the uh for the lieutenant, for which she would kick my ass, then leave you to turn what was left of it into bloody dust. Which She-Body would then grind into the earth before she set it on fire. I was just saying.”

“I know what you were saying.” McNab could, invariably, entertain him. “And I couldn’t agree more, with everything including the bloody dust. They are compelling women. Lieutenant,” Roarke said as her long stride brought her to him.

“So glad you two have time for fizzy breaks.”

“Sir. I’ve been bringing Roarke up to date, and relaying your orders.”

“Looked like slurping and ogling to me.”

“Ah…those may have been minor factors, but neither overshadowed the update or relay. Vic’s images are broadcasted, Lieutenant. I set up another line for responses from those sources. We’ve been fielding tips and inquiries on the investigations, and I figured if we got something out of this, we didn’t want it to get bogged down in the general dump.”

“Good. That’s good thinking. I want you to pass off whatever you’re doing and take Rossi’s equipment. Her comp. I’m looking for personalized fitness programs. Find me one that matches our unsub.”

“On that.”

“Feeney?”

“Roving mode,” McNab told her. “Gives a look and a buzz to whatever everyone’s working. Tightens it up or opens it out. He was playing the medical equipment angle when I came out to get-when I stepped out to update Roarke.”

“Tell him I need somebody to go down to BodyWorks. Rossi used a couple of comps there routinely. The manager’s been contacted and is cooperating. Get them brought in and gone through. Same search.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Roarke, with me.”

Roarke fell into step beside her. “Formidable.”

“What?”

“You. I’d used compelling, but formidable suits as well. Very sexy.”

“Don’t say ‘sexy’ on the job.”

“You just did.”

Okay, she admitted, he made her laugh. Which was obviously the point and intent. And it did relieve some of the tension at the base of her skull. “Got your smarty pants on, I see.”

She moved into the bullpen, stopped her forward motion when one of the men called her name. “Got a DB in a flop off Avenue D,” he began. “Licensed companion over there…”

He jerked his head toward the skinny woman in a bloody shirt seated at his desk. “She says the guy wanted to party, the party was had. He refused to pay the bill and popped her two good ones when she objected to getting stiffed. Pulled out her sticker, which she claims he ran into. Six times.”

“Clumsy of him.”

“Yeah. Thing is, Lieutenant, she called it in. Didn’t try to rabbit, and she’s sticking to the story. Claims he laughed like a looney bird every time the knife went in. Got a couple of wits saw them make the deal, another who heard them yelling in the flop. You can see she’s got herself a pretty good shiner working there.”

“Yeah. Got priors?”

“Couple little bumps, nothing violent. Had her LC ticket for three years.”

“And the DB?”

“Oh, he had a nice long sheet. Assaults, assaults with deadlies, illegals-possession and intent. Just got out of the cage for an attempted robbery-beat hell out of a clerk at a twenty-four/seven. On the Zeus.”

Eve studied the LC. The woman looked more annoyed than worried. And her face was sporting a sick rainbow of bruises. “Guy on Zeus could run into a knife multiple times. Wait for the tox screen on the DB, run her through again, see if she stands on the story, then put her in holding.”

“Guy was juiced up, a lime green PD’s going to get a self-defense. Could slap her for the sticker, as it was over legal limit.”

“What’s the point?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Wanted to run it by you first.”