Page 126 of Concealed in Death

“Specialty of mine.”

“Is Mr. Jones in the heat?”

“He is.”

“No way he killed anybody. He’s too do-unto-others and crap.”

“Killing’s doing unto others.”

“Yeah, but not that way,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Ms. Jones, she was steaming when she got back a while ago. Red in the face absolutely, and she told Mr. Jones he had to come into her office right now. And she never does like that. So, you know, then they’re in there and she’s carrying on about you making shit up to screw them over—only she said it in fancy words. And he’s, now, now, there, there, but not like the other day, after you left and they first found out about the murders and stuff. She was crying so he did the now, now bullshit. She was all—”

Quilla put the back of her hand to her forehead in the classic distress gesture. “Those poor children, those poor lost souls and all that, and he was, there, there, Philly, they’re at peace now. It’s not like our responsibility. We do our best, blah, blah, but she’s watering up all over.

“This time it was more now, now, I wish you’d shut the fuck up so I could think, but he didn’t say that. I just read between the words, like.”

“How about that.”

“And then—” She straightened like an arrow, glanced back. “Gotta blow.”

“Bat ears,” Eve murmured when Quilla blew seconds before Philadelphia came thundering down the second-floor corridor with Shivitz yapping at her heels like a corgi.

“This is outrageous.”

“It can get more outrageous,” Eve told her.

“You have no right to try to push your way into our private quarters. This is harassment, and I intend to contact our lawyers.”

“Go ahead. I’ll contact the PA, get the warrant, and while that’s coming through... Peabody, go ahead and tag up Nadine Furst. She’ll want to lead with this on the evening slot.”

“Just one minute!”

“That’s all you get,” Eve snapped back. “Your brother is a person of interest in a multiple homicide investigation, and no one seems to know where he is. In fact, Peabody, let’s get a BOLO out on Nashville Jones.”

“What does that mean?” Philadelphia demanded. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Be on the lookout,” Peabody said helpfully.

“As if he’s a criminal! Stop it.”

“Tell me where he is,” Eve suggested, “and I won’t have to have every cop in the city on the lookout.”

“I don’t know. For heaven’s sake, he doesn’t tell me his every move. He needed to go out, he went.”

“He went after you came back from Interview, after you told him what we discussed, after receiving a message that I wanted him to come into Interview. Smells, doesn’t it, Peabody?”

“Very fishy.”

“He’s upset. We’re upset. Please just go—” She actually made a shooing gesture. “All this is disrupting our classes, our sessions, our residents. Just go, and I’ll make sure he contacts you the minute he’s back.”

“Not good enough. I want to take a look at his quarters.”

“Why? What do you think? He’s hiding bodies in there?”

“Show me. Prove me wrong.”

“This is so insulting.” But she turned on her heel, strode to the next turn of the stairs, and clipped her way up.