In Death 18 - Divided in Death

out with her. “What do you think?”
    “I’m not thinking anything until I secure and examine the scene.”
    “Lieutenant, you’re always thinking.”
    “Let me do my job. You want to help? Direct my partner and the CSU upstairs when they arrive. Until then, you need to back off or you’ll just muck up the works.”
    “Tell me one thing. Should I advise Reva to contact a lawyer?”
    “You put me in a hell of a fix.” She snatched the field kit from him. “I’m a cop. Let me go be a cop. You figure out the rest. Goddamn it to hell and back again.”
    She stomped upstairs. Breaking open the kit, she yanked out a can of Seal-It and coated her hands and boots. Then, fixing a recorder on her lapel, she re-entered the crime scene and got to work.
    She’d progressed to the bodies themselves when she heard the creak of a floorboard. She whirled, ready to snap at the intruder, and bit back the oath when she spotted Peabody.
    She was going to have to get used to her former aide’s lack of clomping. The new detective no longer wore the hard-soled cop shoes of uniform, but cushy airsneaks that were all but soundless. And just, in Eve’s opinion, a little spooky.
    She had them, apparently, in every color of the rainbow, including the mustard-yellow she wore now to match her jacket. Despite them, and the straight-legged black pants and scoop-necked top, she managed to look pressed and polished and cop-like.
    Her square face was sober and concerned, and framed by her standard ‘do, the straight bowl cut that seemed to suit her dark hair.
    “It’s insult on injury to buy it naked,” Peabody said.
    “And embarrassing on top of it to buy it naked with another woman’s husband, or a woman not your wife.”
    “Is that what we’ve got? Dispatch wasn’t big on details.”
    “I didn’t give them details. Dead guy is Roarke’s admin’s son-in-law, and right at the moment, her daughter’s prime suspect.”
    Peabody looked at the bed. “Looks like a messy situation just got messier.”
    “Take the scene first, then I’ll fill you in on the players. Stunner.” She lifted the sealed weapon. “Suspect claims—”
    “Holy wow!”
    “What? What?” Eve’s free hand slammed onto the butt of her weapon.
    “That.” Reaching out, Peabody danced her fingers delicately over the bracelet on Eve’s wrist. “It’s mag. I mean mondo mag, Dallas.”
    Mortified, Eve shoved the cuff under the sleeve of her jacket. She’d forgotten she was wearing the bracelet. “Maybe we could concentrate on the scene of the crime rather than my accessories.”
    “Sure, but that is some ultimate accessory. Is that big fat red stone a ruby?”
    “Peabody.”
    “Okay, okay.” But she was going to get a closer look, when Dallas wasn’t paying attention. “Where were you?”
    “Just playing around with evidence, amusing myself at a crime scene.”
    Peabody rolled her eyes. “Jeez, beat me with a stick.”
    “First chance,” Eve agreed. “To continue. The suspect claims that she brought a stunner with her, a reconfigured one that meets civilian licensee requirements. This is not a reconfigured stunner, but a military issue with full capabilities.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “Succinct, as always.”
    “That’s inscrutable detective-speak.”
    “Said weapon, which I’ve already tested for prints, has suspect’s, and only suspect’s prints, all over it. As does the murder weapon.” Eve gestured to another sealed bag, and the bloody knife within. “The carry bag over there holds electronic jammers and burglar tools, also loaded with Reva Ewing’s prints.”
    “Is she security-savvy?”
    “Works in that capacity for Roarke Enterprises, and is a former member of the Secret Service.”
    “From the setup, it appears that the suspect broke in, found her husband noodling strange, and hacked away.”
    But she moved closer to the bed, the bodies. “No defensive wounds on either vic, no signs of struggle. Somebody starts hacking away, most people tend to object, at least a little.”
    “Hard to when you’re stunned first.”
    With a fingertip, Eve indicated the small red dots between Blair’s shoulder-blades, the matching ones between Felicity’s breasts.
    “Him on the back, her on the front,” Peabody noted.
    “Yeah. I’d say they were in the middle of noodling strange. Killer walks in behind, zaps him first, shoves him aside and zaps her before she can more than peep. They were unconscious, or at least incapacitated when