Brotherhood in Death by J. D. Robb Page A

said it was buttercream frosting.” But with a heavy sigh, Peabody got in the elevator.
    â€”
    B ack in her street clothes, Eve took a few minutes in her office to connect with Hanson. Still no communication from Senator Mira, or his probable abductor. Hanson and his partner would interview Vinnie, the driver, and had already spoken to Silas Greenbaum. They’d work their way through the Mira Institute while Eve and Peabody took on the list of women.
    By the time she came out Jenkinson and his tie were back at his desk, Santiago at his, and some of the uniforms had trickled in.
    â€œIs anyone actually working today?”
    â€œWe’re on it, Dallas.” Knowing her sharp eye, Jenkinson hastily brushed cake crumbs from his shirt. “It was a good thing.”
    â€œYeah, it was a good thing. You know what else is good? Catching murdering bastards.”
    â€œI like that even better than buttercream frosting,” Santiago said, earning a glare from Peabody.
    â€œYou guys are just mean.”
    â€œThen catch me some murdering bastards,” Eve advised. “Peabody, with me.”
    â€œYou on a hot one, Dallas?”
    She glanced back at Jenkinson as she strode toward the door. “I’ll let you know when I know. Don’t even think about whining over buttercream frosting,” Eve warned, and Peabody settled into a pout as she got on the elevator.
    â€œWe’ll hit the baby skirt at the gallery where she works. We’re going by the crime scene first. I want another look around, and you haven’t seen it firsthand.”
    â€œMira said Mr. Mira was okay, but she looked really stressed. She hardly ever looks stressed.”
    â€œShe’ll deal.”
    Eve considered herself lucky that the elevator only stopped five times on the descent, and no more than a dozen people filed on, filed off.
    â€œWe’ll make a circuit with the known sidepieces,” Eve said as they got in the car. “Say he’s still seeing the artist, but she’s starting to make noises. Oh, Senator Granddaddy—”
    â€œEeww.”
    â€œYeah, well. She’s all, If you get a divorce we could be together all the time. And he’s, Now, now, Sweet Baby Sidepiece—”
    â€œIck, ick, mega ick!”
    â€œCan’t ditch my marriage: appearances, finances, blah blah. How about some ice cream!”
    â€œThis is really turning my stomach, so I don’t even want any buttercream frosting. Thanks.”
    â€œYou’re welcome. Or she’s got a former, more age-appropriate but poor boyfriend—maybe even current—and they figure they’ll pound and intimidate a nice fat chunk of the change out of him. Maybe start off the blackmail with a black eye. Then Mr. Mira walks in, and panic changes their plans.”
    â€œI like it.”
    â€œOr, the next up the line gets steamed, stews, and thinks how he’s dumped her more mature ass for this baby slut. Now he must pay. Also requires a partner.”
    â€œTo pose as the Realtor to get him in the house.”
    â€œThen it’s, Surprise, you horny bastard, we’re going to tune you up.” She paused at a light. “I’ve got problems with all those scenarios, but they’re a launch point.”
    She played with all the problems as she drove, then shot out another launch point. “MacDonald’s alibied tight. Hanson will follow up, but her alibi’s going to hold. So maybe if she’s been a sidepiece, or there’s another issue, she hires somebody to deal with him. We’ll look at herfinances, but we’re not looking at a pro. Still, a lawyer’s bound to know some shady types, especially a political lawyer.”
    She studied the neighborhood as she approached the brownstone. “Quiet, established, upper end. The canvass got nothing, but then most people would be at work, or occupied. Who stares out the window checking for activity on the street or around