In Death 25 - Creation in Death

situation, she knew, was to meet it head on.
    “I won’t answer questions.” She had to shout to be heard over the questions already being hurled at her. “I will make a brief statement. And if you keep shouting at me, you won’t get that either. Earlier this evening”—she continued through the shouts and the noise level dropped—“officers of the NYPSD discovered the body of a woman in East River Park.”
    “Has she been identified?”
    “How was she killed?”
    Eve simply stared holes into the reporters who attempted to break rank. “Did you guys just drop into the city out of a puffy cloud, or are you just running your mouths to hear your own voice? As anyone with half a brain knows, the woman’s identity will not be given out until after notification of next of kin. Cause of death will be determined by the medical examiner. And anyone stupid enough to ask me if we have any leads is going to be blocked from receiving any ensuing data on this matter. Clear? Now stop wasting my time.”
    She stalked off, and was halfway to her own vehicle when she spotted Roarke leaning against the hood. She’d completely forgotten about him.
    “Why aren’t you home?”
    “What? And miss the entertainment? Hello, Peabody.”
    “Hey.” She managed to smile even though her cheeks felt like a couple of slabs of ice. “You’ve been here the whole time?”
    “Nearly. I did wander off.” He opened the car door, took out a couple of insulated takeout cups. “To get you presents.”
    “It’s coffee,” Peabody said, reverently. “It’s hot coffee.”
    “Should thaw you out a bit. Bad?” he said to Eve.
    “Very. Peabody, track down contact info on the vic’s next of kin.”
    “York, Sarifina. On it.”
    “I’ll get myself home,” Roarke began, then stopped. “What was that name?”
    “York,” Eve repeated, “Sarifina.” Something sank in her belly. “You’re going to tell me you knew her.”
    “Late twenties, attractive brunette?” He leaned back against the car again when Eve nodded. “I hired her a few months ago to manage a club in Chelsea. I can’t say I knew her other than I found her bright, energetic, capable. How did she die?”
    Before she could answer, Peabody stepped back up. “Mother in Reno—that’s Nevada—father in Hawaii. Bet it’s warm there. She has a sister in the city. Murray Hill. And the Missing Person’s data came through. The sister reported her missing yesterday.”
    “Let’s take the vic’s apartment first, then the club, then the next of kin.”
    Roarke laid a hand on Eve’s arm. “You haven’t told me how she died.”
    “Badly. This isn’t the place for the details. I can arrange for transpo for you or—”
    “I’m going with you. She was one of mine,” he said before she could object. “I’m going with you.”
    She didn’t argue. Not only would it waste time and energy, she understood. And since she had him, she’d use him.
    “If an employee—especially one in a managerial position—didn’t show for work a few days running, would you be notified?”
    “Not necessarily.” He did what he could to make himself comfortable in the back of the police issue. “And I certainly wouldn’t know her schedule off the top of my head, but I will find out about that. If she missed work, it’s likely someone covered for her, and—or—that her absence was reported to a supervisor in that particular arm of the Entertainment Division.”
    “I need a name on that.”
    “You’ll have it.”
    “Reported missing yesterday. Whoever was assigned to that case would have, or damn well should have, interviewed coworkers at the club, neighbors, friends. We need to connect to that, Peabody.”
    “I’ll run it down.”
    “Tell me,” Roarke repeated, “how she died.”
    “Morris will determine cause of death.”
    “Eve.”
    She flipped a glance in the rearview mirror, met his eyes. “Okay, I can tell you how it went down or close to it. She was stalked. The killer would take all the time he needed to observe and note her habits, her routines, her mode of traveling, her vulnerabilities—i.e., when she would most likely be alone and accessible. When he was ready, he’d make the grab. Most likely off the street. He’d have his own vehicle for this purpose. He’d drug her and take her to his…”
    They’d called it his workshop, Eve remembered.
    “…to the location he’d prepared, most likely a private home. Once there he would either keep her