Visions In Death

Smaller, that is, than the other two victims in this particular area. And our killer sports one hell of a woody." "The eyes. Surer cuts than the first, not quite as clean as the second."

"You're very good at what you do, and again cause me some concern about my own paycheck. Yes. They're all three within a range of skill, but this one falls between the others." "Okay." She stepped back so he could replace the tray, seal the door.

"How close, Dallas? It's begi

CHAPTER 17

Dickie, less affectionately known as dickhead, Berenski was sitting at a long white counter in the lab, apparently compiling or assessing data on a screen.

When Eve came up behind him she saw the data consisted of a role-playing game involving a bevy of scantily clad, stupendously endowed women battling each other with swords.

"Hard at work, I see." In response, he waved a hand in front of the screen. The battling beauties laid down weapons, bowed low enough to show considerable cleavage before calling out: "At your pleasure, my lord." "Jesus, Berenski, are you twelve?" "Hey, maybe the program's evidence from a crime scene." "Yeah, one where several adolescent boys masturbated to death. You may not be on the clock, but I am." "Ten minutes recreational. Got you the shoe, didn't I?" He had, and she told herself to remember that and not crush his egg-shaped head between her hands. "A

"Gave that to Harvo, my best hair guy. She's a flicking genius, even if she won't put out." "I like her already. Where is she?"

He pointed one long, ski

Eve figured Harvo was the whitest white woman she'd ever seen still breathing. Her skin was the color of milk powder against those bright green eyes and the thin slash of mouth dyed the same screaming red as her hair.

She wore the hair in a tuft, maybe three inches high and straight up from the crown of her head. She wore a baggy black tunic in lieu of a lab coat.

"Dallas, right?" Her nails were short, and painted in thin, diagonal stripes of black and red.

That'd be me." "Peabody, Detective." Harvo nodded at both of them, gestured them in. "Harvo, Ursa, Queen of Hair." "What have you got for me, Your Majesty?" Harvo snickered, scooted a bit to the left on her stool.

"Hairlike trace recovered from vie and surrounding scene," she began. Strands of it were secured in a clear, disc seal on the work counter. Harvo popped it in the comp slot, brought its magnified image on screen.

"Hairlike?" "Yeah, see, it's not human hair or animal hair. Dickhead bounced it to me because when he eyeballed it, he made it as man-made fiber. Guy's freaking brilliant. Too bad he's a complete ass-wipe." "Hear me loudly not disagreeing." Harvo chuckled again. "I also serve as Fiber Princess. What you got here…" She revolved the image, increased magnification.

"Is manufactured." "As in rug?" Eve tugged her own hair.

"Not so much. Not likely to find this in hair enhancements or replacements. This is more fur than hair. Something you'd find on a toy stuffed animal, droid pet. It's coated, meeting federal flame retardant standards and child safety laws." "A toy?" "Yep. Now, we analyze the makeup, the dye, the…" She glanced up at Eve as text and shapes began to flash on her screen. "You want the process and deets?" "No, though I'm sure they're endlessly fascinating. Bottom line it." "Gotcha. Through my amazing, almost mystical powers, I've made the manufacturer of the fiber, and its various uses for it with this particular gray dye. Droid pet, feline, common tabby. They do kittens, young cats, full-grown, even your aged family mouser. Manufacturer is Petco. I can hunt up retail outlets if you want." "We'll take it from here. Fast work, Harvo." "I am also Goddess of Speed and Efficiency. Oh, and Dallas, fibers were clean. No skin oils, no detergents, no soil.

I'd say this little kitty was new."

Thoughts, Detective?" "How do you think Harvo gets her hair to stand up like that? It's really jazzed. But that's not what you meant." "Not even remotely." "Someone could've given Sommers the droid. We'll need to check with the friends she had di

It's also possible somebody lost the thing in the park before Sommers came along, and she saw it, picked it up. Not so easy to check that out. If we crap out with the friends, we start checking the retail outlets for purchases, and try to match any with the lists EDD is already ru

On her way up to Feeney, she snagged a drone from Illegals and had him pump her out a tube of Pepsi from vending.

She thought her new method was working out well. The machines didn't balk, and she wasn't tempted to beat them into rubble.

A good deal all around.

She spotted McNab doing the standard EDD pace, dance, chatter when she swung in. He saw her and pranced in her direction. "Hold program," he said, and tipped down his headset. "Hey, Lieutenant. Where's your curvaceous partner?" "If you refer to Detective Peabody, she's working. Most of us do." "Just wondering if you're figuring to split end of duty.

We're hoping to finish up with pack-it-up mode tonight and start the haul-it-over mode tomorrow." He looked so damn happy, she couldn't work up any sarcasm. Any minute, she suspected the words would float visibly out of his mouth in the shape of little red hearts.

Was it something in the air? Peabody and McNab, Charles and Louise, Mavis and Leonardo. It was like a smooch epidemic.

Come to think of it, she and Roarke hadn't had a single spat, skirmish, or spew in… well, days. "Can't say when we'll clock out. She's tugging a couple lines right now, and after I talk to Feeney, we'll have more, so… What?" He'd winced. Just a quick flicker, but she'd caught it.

"Nothing. No thing. Man, I gotta get back to this or my ass'll be in the flames. Continue program." He pranced off, double-time.

"Shit." Eve muttered to herself, and made a beeline for Feeney's office.

Feeney had a headset, and was also ru

Today's shirt was the color of egg substitute, but to Eve's relief was showing some wrinkles and a little coffee stain bloomed between the third and fourth button.

When she stepped into his line of sight, she caught the same flickering wince she'd seen on McNab's face. She said, "Goddamn it." "Pause all programs." He pulled off the headset. "Doing another run, all data, but what I'm going to tell you isn't going to make you happy." "How can there not be matches?" She opened the soft-drink tube, violently.