Big Jack - By Nora Roberts & J. D. Robb Page 0,17

a body of impressive curves tucked snugly into a narrow skirt and jacket the color of cotton candy.

Not wanting to miss her chance, Peabody stepped forward, flipped her jacket open. “Detective Peabody, NYPSD. My partner, Lieutenant Dallas. We need to speak to Chad Dix regarding an investigation.”

“Mr. Dix is meeting with a client, but I’d be happy to review his schedule and clear some time for you later today. If you could give me some idea of the nature of your business, and how much time you’ll require.”

“The nature of our business is murder, and the time we require will depend entirely on Mr. Dix.” Peabody dipped her head, lowered her eyebrows in a stern look she enjoyed practicing in the bathroom mirror. “If he feels unable to meet with us here and now, we’ll be happy to take him downtown and hold our meeting there. You can come with him,” Peabody added.

“I . . . If you’ll give me just a moment.”

When she scurried off, Peabody elbowed Eve. “ ‘Our business is murder.’ I thought that was good.”

“It didn’t suck.” She nodded as the blonde came bustling back. “Let’s check the scores.”

“If you’ll come with me, Mr. Dix will see you now.”

“I thought he would.” Peabody started to saunter after her.

“Don’t rub their noses in it,” Eve muttered. “It’s tacky.”

“Check.”

They moved through a fan-shaped hallway to the wide end and another set of double doors. These were opaque and opened when the assistant tapped.

“Detective Peabody and Lieutenant Dallas, Mr. Dix.”

“Thank you, Juna.”

He was behind a U-shaped workstation with the requisite window-wall at his back. His office suite had a luxurious sitting area with several wide chairs and a display shelf holding a number of antique games and toys.

He wore a stone-gray suit with muted chalk stripes, and a braided silver chain under the collar of his snowy white shirt.

“Officers.” His expression sober, he gestured toward chairs. “I assume this has something to do with the tragedy at Samantha Gannon’s. I heard about it last night on a media report. I haven’t been able to reach Samantha. Are you able to tell me if she’s all right?”

“As much as can be expected,” Eve answered. “You also knew Andrea Jacobs?”

“Yes.” He shook his head and sat behind his desk. “I can’t believe this happened. I met her through Samantha. We socialized quite a bit while Samantha and I were seeing each other. She was . . . It probably sounds clichéd, but she was one of those people who are just full of life. The reports are vague, even this morning. There was a burglary?”

“We’re in the process of verifying that. You and Ms. Gannon are no longer seeing each other?”

“No, not romantically.”

“Why is that?”

“It wasn’t working out.”

“For whom?”

“Either of us. Sam’s a beautiful, interesting woman, but we weren’t enjoying ourselves together any longer. We decided to break it off.”

“You had the codes to her residence.”

“I . . . ” He missed a beat, quietly cleared his throat. “Yes. I did. As she had mine. I assume she changed them after we broke up—as I changed mine.”

“Can you tell us where you were on the night in question?”

“Yes, of course. I was here, in the office until just after seven. I had a dinner meeting with a client at Bistro, just down on Fifty-first. Juna can give you the client’s information, if you need it. I left the restaurant about ten-thirty and went home. I caught up on some paperwork for an hour or so, watched the media reports, as I do every night before I turn in. That must have been nearly midnight. Then I went to bed.”

“Can anyone verify this?”

“No, not after I left the restaurant, in any case. I took a cab home, but I couldn’t tell you the number of the cab. I wouldn’t have any reason to break into Sam’s house and steal anything, or for God’s sake kill Andrea.”

“You’ve had some substance-abuse problems over the years, Mr. Dix.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I’m clean, and have been for a number of years. I’ve been through rehabilitation programs and continue to go to regular meetings. If necessary, I’ll submit to a screening, but I’ll want legal representation.”

“We’ll let you know. When’s the last time you had contact with Andrea Jacobs?”

“A couple of months, six weeks ago, at least. It seems to me we all went to a jazz club downtown this summer. Sam and I, Andrea and whoever she was seeing at the time, a

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