In Death 30 - Fantasy in Death

differently. I liked the idea of him striking out on his own, following that jagged path. So I didn’t. And I know perfectly well none of this is on me, and now I can be relatively sure none of it’s on any of mine. It doesn’t give me that specific target, but it helps clear my head.”
    “Okay, head’s clear. And since I know you’re going to poke around on the magic sword angle whenever you get time today, make sure you let me know anything you come up with.”
    “I’ll do that.”
    “I’ve got to go. Lawyers and shrinks and suspects.”
    “Oh my.” Her puzzled stare made him laugh and pull her to him for a cheerful kiss. Then just hold on to her for a moment more. “Go on then, be a cop. I’ll let you know if and when I can get away to work with Feeney.”
    He’d find a way, she thought. He always did.
     
    She met Peabody in the offices of Felicity Lowenstien. The sharp-looking reception area—small, efficient, and done in reds, blacks, and silvers—was manned by a sharp-looking woman who, either by design or preference, matched the decor with her short silver hair, black suit, and large red fabric rose at the lapel.
    She took them straight back—no fuss, no waiting—past a small office, what looked to be a tidy law library, a closed door. The woman knocked briefly on the next door, then opened it.
    “Lieutenant Dallas and Detective Peabody.”
    Attorney Lowenstien rose from behind her desk. As she came around it Eve noted that the woman had boosted her five feet of height with three-inch scalpel-edged heels. She also wore black with just a hint of white lace at the cross of her jacket. Her hair, rolled back in a smooth twist, was a dense brown with gilded streaks.
    She offered both Eve and Peabody a firm shake, then a chair.
    “I appreciate you coming here. I’ve got everything I think you’ll need or want.” She paused, let out a breath. “Let me give you some personal background. I met Bart in college, through Cill. Cill and I got to be friendly, and she decided she’d fix me up with Bart.”
    “Romantically?”
    “That was the idea. It didn’t take, but Bart and I became friends. When we all established ourselves in New York, I became his attorney. I handled the partnership agreement, and I handled his estate. I don’t do criminal law, but I dated an ADA once.” She smiled, just a little, in a way that told Eve things hadn’t taken there either. “I know there’s little you can or will tell me, but I have to ask. Do you have any leads?”
    “We’re pursuing several avenues of investigation.”
    “That’s what I figured you’d say.” She sighed as she turned her gaze toward her window. “We didn’t hang out often anymore. Cill and I, or Bart and the others. Different directions, work, that kind of thing. But he was a good guy. A sweet guy.”
    “When was the last time you had contact with him?”
    “Only a few days ago, actually. He wanted to see about endowing a scholarship—or have the business do one—for the high school he, Cill, and Benny graduated from. We scheduled a meeting for next week—the four of them, me, and the financial adviser. We talked for a while, actually. Caught up since it had been several months since we’d actually talked. He was seeing a woman, seriously. He seemed really happy.”
    “Did he speak to you about any projects—work projects?”
    “No, not really. I’m not especially e-savvy, certainly not on Bart’s level, or the others. But I got the impression something was brewing. He was excited.”
    “Were the others on board about the scholarship?”
    “Absolutely. As far as I know,” she qualified. “They never did anything without all four agreeing.”
    “So he didn’t seem concerned about anything or anyone?”
    “On the contrary. He seemed on top of the world.”
     
    On top of the world,” Eve said from the driver’s seat. “Happy-go-lucky. Doesn’t seem like the type who ends up on a slab at the morgue with his head on a tray.”
    “He was rich, relatively successful, content, and in a competitive business,” Peabody pointed out. “Fertile ground for jealousy.”
    “Yeah, it is.” She pulled out her ’link when it signaled, read a text from Roarke. “We’re splitting off. I want you and McNab to go to East Washington. There’s a mini-con at the Potomac Hotel.”
    “Road trip!” Peabody pumped her fists in the air.
    “Before you break out the soy chips and go-cups, you’re going as collectors.