Page 10 of Framed in Death (In Death #61)

“Send those locations. We’re in the field. Jenkinson? Paperwork.”

“I’m almost the fuck finished.”

Because she sympathized, Eve recalculated. “Take a break. You and Reineke take your break. Reineke, Peabody’s going to send you a list—current and former employees of the Whittiers. Check them out after your break.”

She glanced around. “Baxter, Trueheart?”

“Working the ’links shook something loose. They’re out tugging the line. Carmichael, Santiago and the hat got one in Interview.”

“Well then…”

“We can break right here, boss, unless one of them comes back in.”

“That’d be best. If either of you comes up with anything that has a good scent to it, send it. If you catch one, leave all this.”

“Got it covered.” Jenkinson looked at Reineke. “Well, partner, ready to hit Vending?”

“It could be worse. I’m thinking how, but I know it could be worse.”

“We could hit a cart,” Peabody said as they started out.

“Let’s take the first one, see how that plays. Then a cart’s fine.”

“Good deal.”

“Culver had an aunt.”

“Yeah, I saw that.”

“I had to work through the rest—none of them gave a rat’s ass. Then I talked to her. Hasn’t seen or heard from her sister in over twenty years, didn’t know she had a daughter. But she’s making arrangements anyway.”

“That matters. It matters.”

“Yeah, it does. Which one of yours is closest?”

“Actually, one I didn’t give you yet. Allyn—with a y —Orion. He lives and works just a few blocks from here.”

“Then he’s first.” Knowing what the elevators would be like at this time of day, Eve turned to the glides. “Why does he pop?”

“First? A fake suicide attempt.”

“Fake how?”

“He took a few pills—not close to enough—then called his ex-boyfriend and claimed he was saying the long goodbye. The ex called it in, and they found Orion sort of woozy. Not even close to dead, just a little drugged up. So he grabbed a pair of scissors and threatened to cut off his ear. Like Van Gogh? But he didn’t.

“But he did,” Peabody continued, “about six months later, attack another more recent ex’s current boyfriend.

High on a combo of cheap wine and Ups, he went at him when the guy and the ex came out of a club, and managed to shove the boyfriend into the street.

The oncoming car stopped, but it still gave the guy a good bump. ”

“Some time in, psych eval, alcohol and drug rehab,” Eve concluded.

“You got it. He’s been out for about a year.”

“He sounds fun. Let’s go have a conversation with Allyn with a y .”

“Then a cart, right? Maybe even a deli or diner. I could go for a chef’s salad.”

“If it comes from a restaurant of any nature, shouldn’t it always be a chef’s salad?”

“Sometimes they just have cooks.”

“Okay, that’s a point. But they’re never called cook’s salads. Anyway.” They jogged down the metal steps to the garage. “We’ll see how it plays out with Orion.

“Is that an actual name?”

“He had it changed legally from Pecker.”

“Seriously?” With a laugh, Eve walked to her car. “Well, you can’t blame him.”

“He was born Waldo Pecker.”

“He sounds like a lunatic, but it’s hard not to feel sorry for him. Still, it’s unlikely the killer had sex with Culver, and the former Pecker prefers men. So.”

“We’ll see how it plays out,” Peabody finished.

Rain blew in as Eve drove the handful of blocks, then another two before she found parking.

Peabody opened the glove box, pulled out a pair of compact umbrellas. She passed one to Eve.

“How did you know they were in there?”

“Factored in Roarke and Summerset, then played the odds. I won!”

As she climbed out, Peabody opened one.

Since it was right there, Eve did the same, then had to admit to a kind of smugness as she watched other pedestrians scramble for cover or hunch against the wet.

“Give me a quick rundown of the artist formerly known as Pecker.”

“Thirty-three, mixed race, currently working nights serving drinks and bar food at Saucy, a sex club.” Peabody paused, pointed. “That one.”

Eve took a glance at the blacked-out window with the currently quiet neon in the shape of an impossibly endowed naked woman.

“It’s a good thing she’s got that pole to hold on to. Otherwise, being that front-loaded, she’d keep falling on her face.”

“I can’t figure how she’d swing on the pole. The boobies would keep smacking into it.”

“Peabody, tits that size are not, in any way, ‘boobies.’ The term boobies should be reserved exclusively for what begins to pop out of a twelve-year-old girl.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

After they walked to the middle of the next block, Eve studied Orion’s building. Another post-Urbans toss-up. Eight floors of dingy and poorly secured, with a scatter of tags.

Given the nature of the tags, she deduced those particular artists patronized Saucy—if they managed to get their hands on fake ID.

Street level held a tat and piercing parlor attached to a handy retail space that sold nipple rings, tongue studs, and other accessories she further deduced could be attached to more private parts.

Since the residential door had no lock, they walked right in.

Peabody let out a sigh. “He’s on five. I’m going to have to upgrade my underwear because my pants are going to get so loose, they’ll fall off my ass.”

As expected, Eve ignored the elevator and pushed open the door to the stairwell.