Thankless in Death

little thing?”
    “It’s actually why I tagged you. I want to give someone a job.”
    “Doing what?”
    “That’s the thing. I don’t know. And actually, I want you to give someone a job.”
    His eyebrows rose. “You want me to give someone a job doing … you don’t know what?”
    “What’s the point of having somebody who employs half the planet anyway if you can’t say, ‘Give this girl a job’?”
    “A girl.”
    “Well, early twenties. Honest, straightforward. She’s going to lose her job in a pawnshop for reporting those comps, but she came in anyway. She’s neat, clean, polite—and honest,” she repeated. “You must have something—Lower West would work best.”

    He said, “Eve,” on a sigh. “Have her contact Kyle Pruett,” he began and rattled off information.
    “Who is that?”
    “One of the assistants in Human Resources, downtown. She’ll have to pass a background check, come in for an interview, but I imagine Kyle can find something. Give me her information, and I’ll pass it on.”
    “Great. I’ll send it to you, and I’ll owe you.”
    “You certainly will.” But he smiled at her. “I’m on my way to you, via Feeney.”
    Satisfied, she turned back to Juana. “Peabody, did you get all Juana’s information?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Send it to Roarke.” The look she sent Peabody cut off any questions. “Juana, I need you to note something down.”
    “Oh, yes, ma’am.”
    “Lieutenant,” Eve said as Juana pulled out an old, battered ’link.
    “Yes, ma’am, Lieutenant.”
    Close enough. “Kyle Pruett,” Eve said, giving Juana the information to key in. “Contact him. He’ll be expecting it. He’s going to help you find a job.”
    Juana looked up from her ’link, blinked twice. “A job?”
    “We’re going to shut your boss down for seventy-two hours, more if we find other stolen merchandise. He’s going to be fined, and he may face criminal charges. Unless he’s an absolute moron, he’s going to know you reported him. Don’t go back there. Use the contact I gave you. Be honest with him the way you were with me. If there’s anything off in your background, tell him up front. Have you ever been arrested, Juana?”

    Those dark eyes went huge. “No, ma’am! Sir! Lieutenant! My mama would skin my butt.”
    “Make the contact. And thank you for coming in.”
    “Detective Peabody gave me this voucher. I didn’t know you got paid to report. I didn’t come in for the money, but we can use it. And I can sure use a chance for the work.” She got to her feet, held out a hand to shake. “Thank you for the chance. Mama says doing the right thing’s its own reward, but she’ll sure be happy I got this. We’ll be saying a special thank-you before Thanksgiving dinner. Thank you, both of you. I’m going straight home to tell her.”
    “That was a nice thing to do,” Peabody commented when Juana hurried out.
    “This could be a solid break, and she gave it to us.” She shifted to block Baxter before he could pass. “Where are you going?”
    Wiggling his eyebrows, he smoothed the knot of his tie. “I’m off shift and onto a hot date.”
    “You’re back on, and your hot date will have to cool down some.”
    “Man.” He cast his eyes to the ceiling. “I was this close.”
    “Peabody, split the list of potential targets up geographically.”
    “Is this the Reinhold murders, Lieutenant?” Trueheart, looking eager, stepped beside Baxter.
    “That’s right. We’ve got a list of people who’ve pissed Reinhold off in the past, and any one of them might be next. They’ve all been notified, offered protection.”
    “You want us to babysit?” Baxter asked.
    “No. His tally’s four, and all were killed in their own homes. I want face-to-face interviews, in those homes, and a full report on the locations, the accesses, the security, the basic rhythm of the households. Also take note of easily portable valuables, keen eye on electronics. Ifsaid potentials know of other potentials not currently on the list, I want to know. Show them all the morph. If they have cohabs or family members living with them, show them, talk to them. If he doesn’t already have his next kill picked, he’s picking one now.”
    “How long’s the list?” Baxter wondered.
    “Your date’s going to cool off some,” Eve repeated. “If you can’t heat her back up, it’s on you.”
    He flashed a grin. “Heating up’s my specialty.”
    “Give them above SoHo,” Eve