In Death 28 - Promises in Death

fresh mug of coffee on her desk.
    “Bacon and eggs seemed right. Dr. Mira, how about some breakfast? I’m serving it up.”
    “Oh. That’s an idea.” Mira came in, walked to the board. “Whatever Eve’s having is fine.” She studied the dead photo of Sandy. “One wound?”
    “Yes. One stick, dead in the heart.”
    “Personal again. Close work. Different weapon, different methodology than Coltraine, but the same sentiment, if you will. He likes to watch then die. Likes to be connected. Businesslike about it, but not removed.”
    “Killing’s business for cops. You could say.”
    “Leaving him naked. Humiliation, as with using Coltraine’s own weapon on her, taking it and her badge from the scene.”
    “I guess so.” It threw her for a moment—and Eve realized it shouldn’t have—to see the woman who’d been cuddling and soothing a screaming baby one minute coolly profiling a killer the next.
    “It’s a cover-up, a way to make it look like he got rolled and done,” Eve continued. “Like taking Coltraine’s jewelry, her wallet, were or could be interpreted as a cover-up, to make it initially appear as robbery. But the humiliation follows. It’s a benefit. He was covered with ratty blankets, dirty clothes, filthy tarps.”
    “The killer disliked him, found him of little worth. Easily disposed of.”
    “Ricker likes to dispose of people who outlive their usefulness to him.”
    “Ricker may have ordered the murder, but the person who carried it out would—or certainly could—choose the method. The time, the place. Thank you, Peabody.” Mira sat with the plate Peabody brought her. “You’re focused on Coltraine’s squad. Let’s look at them.”
    “I smell food.” Cher Reo, disheveled in pajamas covered with yellow daisies stopped on her way into the room to sniff the air. “And coffee. Food and coffee, please.”
    “I can be the waitress.” Mavis followed Reo into the room. “Belle’s sleeping, and I’m starved. I feel like French toast.”
    “Mmm,” Reo said. “French toast.”
    “I’ll make it two. Hey, Nadine, want to be a threesome with French toast?”
    “I’d be a fool not to. Who got killed?” Nadine demanded as she strolled in. “Mira wouldn’t spill.”
    “Jesus, go away,” Eve ordered, but resisted yanking at her hair. Or Nadine’s. “I’m working.”
    “I’ll keep it off the record.” Nadine grabbed a slice of bacon from Eve’s plate. “I can help. We’re the smart girls. Let’s solve some crime!”
    When she reached for Eve’s mug, Eve grabbed her wrist. “There’ll be another murder if you touch my coffee.”
    “I’ll go get my own.” But she walked to the board first, and found Sandy’s photo. “One in the heart. No muss, no fuss.”
    Eve frowned as Nadine strolled to the kitchen. The hell of it was, they were the smart girls.
    “Okay, all right. Reo, shut the damn door before somebody else wanders in here.” Then she blew out a breath when Louise did just that.
    “I couldn’t sleep so . . . oh, French toast!”
    “She’s a smart girl,” Nadine pointed out, and went over to shut the door herself. “Mavis, Louise wants French toast. We’re helping Dallas on a case.”
    Eve resisted—barely—the urge to beat her head against the desk. “Everybody just sit down and shut up. Nadine, I don’t want anything in here on-air, unless I clear it. And I don’t want to see any of it in a damn book.”
    “I won’t air anything without your go-ahead. As to the book? Hmmm, interesting.”
    “I mean it. Louise, you take your medi-van down to Pearl, don’t you?”
    “Sure.”
    “Have you ever treated a couple of scavengers called Kip and Bop.”
    “As I matter of fact I have. They—”
    “You can stay. I might have questions. Reo, let me tell you about this guard on Omega.”
    Since they were, Eve started on the eggs while she summed up Cecil Rouche’s connection to Ricker.

19
    IT WAS RIDICULOUS, BRIEFING A BUNCH OF women—mostly civilians at that—on murder. Women in pajamas, Eve thought as she ran it through for Reo. Women in pajamas eating French toast and nibbling on bacon.
    Smart girls, okay. But still. Other than Peabody, Reo, and Mira, what did they know about cop work? She could stretch it for Nadine, she supposed. Working the crime beat gave Nadine some insight. And she could be trusted not to put a story ahead of ethics. That was something.
    Maybe Louise wasn’t so far out of the box. As a doctor, she’d treated