of the day can be shuffled around.”
“If Feeney wants you on board for the e-work, that’s between you and him.”
“He has his teeth in it now. I don’t imagine he needs me to chew through the rest. But you might want me along when you speak to Steven Whittier.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows me. And from what I know of him, he couldn’t have had a part in what was done to those women. Not knowingly.”
“People can do a lot of things that are out of character when they’re blinded by bright, shiny stones.”
“Agreed. Another reason you might want me along. I know a bit about that sort of thing.” He drew the chain from under her shirt so the teardrop diamond he’d once given her sparkled between them. “I’ve known people who’ve killed for them. I’ll know if he has. They’re just things to you. You wear this for me. That’s its only value to you.”
He smiled a little as he slid it under her shirt again. “If I’d given you a hunk of quartz, it would mean the same.”
“He may not have done it for the diamonds, not directly, but to protect himself and his family. Samantha Gannon knows things about him that aren’t in the book. Things no one outside that group formed a half century ago knows. Who he is, who he comes from. People kill for that, too.”
“Is this line of thinking what brought on your nightmare?”
“I don’t know. Maybe this line of thinking came out of it. On the surface, Whittier’s built a good, decent life. But it’s often what’s under the surface that drives people. He has a lot to lose if it comes out—who his father was, what he did, that Steven Whittier is a figment.”
“Is that what you think?” He touched her, a hand to her cheek, a cheek pale from a restless night. “Because the name was given to him along the way instead of at the beginning, it isn’t real?”
“It’s not what I think, it’s what he thinks that matters.”
Now he framed her face. “You know who you are, Eve.”
“Most of the time.” She lifted a hand, laid it on his wrist. “You want to come along because of the nightmare. You’d already worked it out that I was making correlations with myself on this. I won’t deny I have, but it doesn’t get in the way of the job.”
“I didn’t think it would.”
“I’ll think about it. I’ll contact you and let you know.” She turned toward the door, then back. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
The building on Avenue B was a beauty. Or as she was told by the cooperative job foreman, the three buildings being turned into one multipurpose complex was a beauty. The old brick had already been blasted clean of grime and soot and graffiti so the color glowed muted rose.
She doubted that would last long.
The lines were clean and straight, with the beauty in the simplicity of form.
“Damn shame the way it was let go” was foreman Hinkey’s opinion as he walked them inside the entrance of the middle building. “Useta be apartments and such, and the basic structures held up. But, jeemaneze, you shoulda seen the guts of the place. Torn to shit and back. Wood rotted out, floors sagging, plumbing out of the freaking Ice Age. You had your cracked drywall and your busted windows. Some people just got no respect for buildings, you know?”
“Guess not. You lock the place down tight when the crew’s not here?”
“Damn straight. You got your vandals and your looters and your sidewalk sleepers, your assholes looking for a place to screw around or deal.” He shook his head, adorned with a dusty Whittier gimme cap. “We got a lot of equipment in here, not to mention the supplies. Steve—Mr. Whittier—he don’t stint on security. He runs a class operation.”
She didn’t know about class, but she knew about noise. Inside there was plenty of it.
“Lot of space,” she commented.
“Five floors, three buildings. You got round about eighteen thousand square, not counting rooftop area. Gonna be a mix of residential and business. Keeping as much of the original structures and features we can salvage, and we’ll install new where we can’t, keeping the original style.”
“Yeah. This much space, three buildings, there’s a lot of ways in and out. A lot to cover.”
“We got a central security system, and individual backups on each building.”
“Who’s got the codes?”
“Ah, that’d be Steve, myself, head carpenter, assistant foreman and the security company.”
“You can give those names to