Shadows in Death (In Death #51) - J.D. Robb Page 0,89
a pink-and-white butterfly out of a bin. “This is for my hair, since we’d look stupid if we both wore caps.”
Eve accepted defeat. “Sometimes the job is embarrassing.”
But she paid for the cap, put it on, paid for the tie, watched Peabody twist a section of her hair up so the butterfly fluttered just behind her crown.
“It’s going to be more embarrassing if we take him down while we’re wearing this stuff.”
But, Eve thought, she’d suck that right up.
17
They hit bars, restaurants, shops, walked block after block.
They found where Cobbe bought his underwear—black boxers—where he added a light cashmere sweater—crewneck, steel gray—and two dress shirts.
He stopped into a market along the way, bought some basic provisions.
He would, eventually, return to at least one or two of those places. She had to depend on responsible citizens contacting her when he did.
She hated depending on civilians.
They made a last stop at a bar offering high-priced drinks with fancy names served by impossibly beautiful waitstaff.
They hit with the bartender, who nodded immediately when they flashed Cobbe’s photo.
“He was in last night until closing. I guess he came in about midnight—I worked a double yesterday, so I was on the bar until closing. Gin Blossoms—that was his drink. I can look up the tab for you, but he paid cash, had four, and bought two glasses of champagne for Kaylee.”
“Kaylee?”
“Kaylee Skye—our entertainment. She sings—old bluesy numbers—from ten to two. I say he came in about midnight because I know she was on her second break, and he hit on me a little. Friendly like, but definitely had the moves.”
“Okay.” Eve sized her up. The impossible beauty extended to bar staff. This one was tall, lanky, silvery blond with cheekbones that could cut glass.
“Then Kaylee came out, started her second set, and he forgot about hitting on me. Kaylee’s a stunner, and she’s got the pipes, right? Sexy, smoky, and she wears those sleek, sinuous sorts of gowns for her gigs, like you see in old vids? Can I get you a drink?”
“How’s the coffee?”
The bartender smiled. “I’ll say it’s not our specialty.”
“Got Pepsi?”
“Got Coke.”
“I’ll take it.”
“The no-cal for me,” Peabody said. “Could we have your name?”
“Sure. Londa, Londa Stanski.”
“So he focused on the talent,” Eve continued. “Kaylee Skye.”
“Big-time. Asked me what she drank, then sent her up a glass of the champagne she likes. It’s primo, so he had the scratch. And you could hear the click, right?”
The bartender added a twist of lemon to the glasses, set them on bar coasters.
“She focused back?”
“She did, but that’s not unusual for her. Part of the job’s to get a little flirt on. Anyway, she came to the bar on her next break to thank him, and they got more of a flirt on. I’ll say he had that dreamy accent, and a lot of style.”
Londa took an order for a Zombie and a vodka martini.
“Did she leave with him?” Eve asked as the bartender skillfully mixed the drinks.
“Yeah. Now that’s not usual for her, but they had that click—and she and the guy she was seeing for a while broke it off a few weeks ago, so she was loose. She’s back on at nine tonight if you want to talk to her.”
“I need her address.”
For the first time, the bartender pulled back. “Look, I get you’re cops, but I really don’t like to do that, and she’ll be back in a few hours anyway.”
“Do you figure a couple of cops are in here showing his photo because they want to get a flirt on with him?”
“Well, no, but—”
“He killed a woman a couple nights ago. He’s made a living doing that for a couple of decades. Give me her address.”
“Oh my Jesus. She’s only a couple blocks from here.” She spewed out the address. “We’re work pals, you know, Kaylee and me. Four years. Tell her to tag me, okay?”
“All right. If he comes in tonight, contact me.” She nodded for Peabody to put a card on the bar. “Don’t do anything to tip him off. Just serve him his drink, and contact me.”
“You bet your ass. Have Kaylee tag me, please.”
“I will.”
“This is another break,” Peabody said when they went out.
“Maybe. They’d have walked, just a couple blocks. Maybe she lets him come up, maybe not. How far would he push if it’s maybe not? He’s expecting sex, he bought her drinks, didn’t he? Primo champagne. She led him on, didn’t she? Either way, he probably got inside with her.”