Connections in Death (In Death, #48)- J. D. Robb Page 0,72
she hit the Lower East Side well ahead of the time she’d texted to Peabody.
Since she saw no point in waiting, she edged into a slot, and hiked a couple of blocks to the four-stack in the cool March breeze.
Privacy screens engaged, she noted. Most likely Vinn was still sleeping. It never hurt, to Eve’s mind, to catch somebody before they’d had their morning caffeine and started thinking clearly.
She buzzed, waited, watched a teenage type walk a trio of yap dogs who trotted along on stubby legs with ears flapping. Buzzed again, longer.
The door opened a crack, and an eye peered out. Not Vinn’s brown one, but green and bloodshot.
“Do you know what the freak time it is?” The voice, rusty with sleep, matched the annoyance in the bloodshot eye.
“Yes.” Eve held up her badge. “Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. I have a warrant to enter and search.” Now she held up the copy she’d printed out.
“Man, hasn’t that fuckhead caused El enough trouble and heartache? Whatcha want to mess with her for?”
The door opened a few inches wider so Eve studied the woman with sleep-tangled blue hair, wearing a wrinkled tee that skimmed just south of her crotch that identified her as an: OFF-DUTY STRIPPER
“I’m here to mess with the source of her trouble and heartache.”
“Didn’t ya get the cop memo, sister? Asshole’s in jail.”
“I know. I put him there.”
The woman fisted a hand on her hip which shifted the shirt a dangerous fraction north. “I’m liking you better.” She opened the door fully, stepped back to let Eve in. “El tagged me up last night for some emotional support, and that included a couple bottles of wine. She’s still out. What’re ya searching for?”
“I’ll know when I find it. If Ms. Vinn’s sleeping in the room she shared with Cohen, I’m going to have to disturb her.”
“Well, shit.”
“Can I have your name?”
“Me? The real’s Lisa Killagrew. Onstage I’m Tequila.”
“Ms. Killagrew, if you could inform Ms. Vinn I’m here, with a duly authorized search warrant, we could get this done as quickly as possible.”
“Should she, like, pull in her lawyer?”
“Has she hired an attorney?”
“Yeah, she hired Pete. He’s a lawyer. He hired us a couple years ago for a private—his brother’s stag party. He said she oughta—I’m probably not supposed to tell you what he said she oughta.”
“Leese, who are you talking to?”
Eldena appeared at the top of the stairs looking impossibly young and pale in a little black nightie—sheer as air, with three red hearts strategically placed.
To add a touch of mystery? Eve wondered
Staring at Eve, Eldena let out a gasp that ended on a choked sob.
“Oh God, are you here to arrest me?”
“No. I’m not—”
Bursting into tears, Eldena dropped down to sit on the steps. “I’m sorry. I’m a wreck.”
“Now, you stop that crying.” Lisa used a stern mother’s tone Eve admired, and had Eldena sucking up the sobs. “Didn’t Pete tell you everything was going to be all right?”
“I just feel so stupid.”
“Then don’t be stupid. You need coffee, that’s what. Christ knows, I do. You want?” she began, turning to Eve, then shot a finger in the air. “Shit, Dallas.”
Eve felt her stomach sink.
“El told me and all that, but my brain’s not working all the way yet. Me and El went to a matinee to see the vid. I like how you kick ass. I’m going for coffee. El, remember what we said last night?”
Eldena gave a firm nod, even if she did sniffle with it. “Tough, strong, mean. It was easier with the wine,” she said with a half-smile as Lisa walked up to her.
“You don’t wanna get walked over, don’t be a doormat.” After a pat on Eldena’s shoulder, Lisa continued upstairs.
“I asked Lisa to come over. We were supposed to work last night, but she said we’d take a mental health break, and we drank a lot. Before that, I made Sam leave. I said he had to go somewhere else last night so I could think. We had a big fight about it, but I made him leave. Later, Pete—he’s a lawyer—he said that was good because possession is nine-tenth and all that. And how I should have the locks changed.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Eldena rose, scrubbed her face with her hands as she walked down to Eve. “I’ve got a locksmith guy coming this morning. Sam, he tagged me and said how he’d been arrested, and I had to help. How he’d need me to post bail, and . . . I