Celebrity in Death

kind of war cry as he leaped, fast and nimble as a spider, on the back of the uniformed cop ahead of him in the car.
    Amid the chaos, and the unbelievable stench, Eve considered. Two cops were currently trying to haul the crazy little bastard off while he yanked hair, kicked feet, sank teeth.
    She decided on a different approach. She drew her weapon, and keeping a careful distance, leaned forward, pressed it to the crazy little bastard’s head.
    “Want a taste of this?”
    He swung around, bared his gapped teeth, and she calculated he intended to use the uniform as a springboard into her face.
    “I’ll drop you like a stone,” she warned. “No, like a pebble. An ugly, smelly pebble. Then I’ll personally drop-kick your ass into a cage.”
    “I got him, Lieutenant.” Panting, snarling, sweating, McGreedy ripped his prisoner off the uniform, shoved him facedown on the floor of the car. “Fucker.”
    “Officer?”
    “Shit. Shit. Bingly, Lieutenant.”
    “Officer Bingly, as you’re already due for a shower and a change of uniform, why don’t you assist Detective McGreedy in securing his little fucker and hauling same into detox?”
    “Yes, sir. Shit.”
    “It ain’t roses,” McGreedy agreed.
    “Hold him back, would you?” Eve requested, and hopped off the elevator.
    Never a dull moment, she thought as she took a cautious sniff of herself just in case.
    She bypassed her office for the conference room where she re-created her case boards, loaded data into a computer.
    By the time she was finished, she expected Peabody to clock in. Deciding she wanted another hit of decent coffee before things got rolling, she secured the conference room and started to her office.
    She spotted Marlo—despite the long, sun-streaked brunette wig and oversized sunshades—coming off the glides.
    “Dallas.”
    “Not working today?”
    “I’m not due in hair and makeup until nine, so I thought I’d take a chance you’d be in, and have a few minutes.”
    “I’m in, and a few minutes is all I’ve got.” Eve nodded as Peabodyand McNab came up the next glide. “Hang on a minute,” she told Marlo.
    “Is that Marlo?” Peabody asked.
    “Yeah, I’m going to talk to her. The two of you can head right into the conference room. I’ve got boards set up. Study, ponder, prepare to discuss. What’s in the box?”
    “Doughnuts.” McNab grinned at her. “We figured, hey, cops, breakfast time, briefing. It’s the necessary ingredient.”
    “It couldn’t hurt. I won’t be long.”
    Eve considered the fact her murder board stood in her office, and deciding it might be an advantage, led Marlo in.
    “Thanks for …” Marlo trailed off, her gaze on the board. “God, that’s stark. And really, really disconcerting to see my own face up there, those of people I know and care about. Can I sit down?”
    “Sure.” As she did, Eve rested a hip on the corner of her desk. Her mind went, unfortunately, to the idea of how many asses had sat on her candy in the last couple of days.
    “You know, I thought I’d gotten so tough, prepping for this part. I’ve always kept in shape, but Christ, I trained for this. Physically, I mean. And, I thought, mentally. But I learned, fast, I’m not half as tough as I thought. I can work. I can put myself there, but as soon as I step out of you and into me? I’m just Marlo Durn, and I’m scared.”
    “Of what?”
    “There’s no way around the fact one of us …” Her gaze went to the board again. “One of us killed K.T. There’s no way around it. And I know you believe whoever did that killed the man she hired to spy on Matthew and me. So I’m scared because I’m working with someone who could do that.”
    “Did Asner approach you, Marlo, or Matthew about compensation in exchange for the recording?”
    “No.” She stared at his photo on the board. “I’ve never seen him before. He was in the loft, in our bedroom. And now he’s dead.”
    “Has anyone approached you?”
    “No. I’d tell you. It’s way beyond the invasion of privacy, the embarrassment. Even the anger over it. I wanted to come here, see you, ask you if you’re any closer to finding out who. And I know you probably can’t tell me, but I hate being this way. Hate being scared, hate wondering about these people I care about. Hate locking my trailer door, even when I’m inside.”
    “Are you afraid of anyone in particular?”
    Marlo shook her head. “Matthew’s handling it better, and so’s Andi.