Divided in Death

“The sort of thing Homeland would have in its pantry.”

“I imagine so. When I had Reva under, I took her back through the steps and stages of that night. She recalled a movement to her left as she was facing the bed. She doesn’t remember this, not clearly, except under hypnosis. A movement,” Mira went on, “then a scent, something strong, bitter, and the taste of it in the back of her throat.”

“Probably sprayed her.” Eve looked over the gardens, but she wasn’t seeing the busy butterflies now, or hearing the insistent bird. She saw the candlelit bedroom, the bodies curled close together on bloody sheets. “Waited for her to come up, came in on her on her off-side, hit her with the spray. Set the rest of it up while she was out.”

“If so, it was organized thinking. Cold and organized. And still… much of what was done was overly dramatic-beyond the violence that shows the capability for brutality, there were added steps, complications that were u

“Because he was having fun with it.”

“Yes.” Pleased, Mira enjoyed her hamburger. “He was. Several misjudgments and flourishes-when simplicity would have served his purposes better-indicate to me that he gets caught up in the role he’s playing. Enjoying it, and perhaps wanting to prolong it.”

“Adding touches to a pretty tight and simple plan that unbalance the whole. What do they call it? Ad-libbing.”

“Very well put. You have organized thinking but impulsiveness as well. I doubt he was working alone. I also doubt that the one who conceived the core of the plan was the one to carry it out. Now I’m going to pass you to Morris so you can get the business over with and enjoy some of your evening.”

“It’s a little tough to enjoy anything when I know Trina has plans.” But Eve rose, walked over to Morris. “Got something for me?”

“Dallas!” Mavis popped up. “Did you know Morris played the sax?”

“The what?”

“Saxophone,” Morris said. “Tenor. It’s a musical instrument, Lieutenant.”

“I know what a saxophone is,” she muttered.

“He used to play with a band in college,” Mavis went on. “And sometimes they still get together for private gigs. They’re The Cadavers.”

“Of course they are.”

“We’re going to jam sometime, right?” Mavis asked Morris.

“Name the time, name the place.”

“Too mag to lag!” she danced off and into Leonardo’s arms.

“That’s a very happy young woman.”

“You wouldn’t’ve thought so if you’d seen her two hours ago.”

“Gestating ladies tend to swing. They’re entitled. Want a beer?”

“What the hell.” She snagged one from the cooler. “What’ve you got for me?”

“Nothing as wonderful as this cow patty. Chloe McCoy. No evidence of recent sexual activity. But… it would appear she’d expected some as she’d inserted protection. An over-the-counter product called Freedom. This coats the vaginal area with both spermicide and a lubricant, which protect against STDs and conception.”

“Yeah, I know what it is. You can use it up to twenty-four hours before you rock. When did she use it?”

“My best guess? An hour, possibly two pre-mortem. And she’d also ingested fifty milligrams of Sober-Up at approximately the same time.”

“Well now, isn’t that interesting?”

To show their unity on that point, he tapped his bottle of beer against hers. “At least one hour before she ingested the termination pills. And if those were purchased on the black market, someone has a very valuable source. They weren’t generic or clones or homemade. And, the kicker: They were dissolved in the wine before they were ingested.”

“So she protects herself against pregnancy or STD, sobers herself up, cleans her apartment, gets herself a sexy outfit, and does her face and hair. Then drops a couple of fatals in her wine and offs herself.” Eve took a long pull on the beer. “And you said you didn’t bring me anything as interesting as that burger.”

“You haven’t tasted the burger yet.”

“I’ll get to it. What’s the ruling on this matter by the Chief Medical Examiner of New York City?”

“Homicide, staged to look like self-termination. That girl didn’t knowingly eat those pills.”

“No, she didn’t.” And that made Chloe McCoy hers. “Termination pills require a prescription-after considerable testing and counseling. If she didn’t get them that way, and she didn’t, and they weren’t black-market, would you say that a strong possible source for meds of that type and potency would be a covert government organization?”

“I wouldn’t say no.”

“Neither would I.” She pondered for a few minutes. “There’s something I’d like you to check out.”

When she was finished with Morris, Eve headed over to the grill. “I’ve got some new juice,” she said to Feeney, then found a plate shoved into her hand.

“Take a minute. There’s always time for meat.”

The scent of the burger had saliva pooling in her mouth. “A lot of new juice, Feeney. ME’s ruling homicide on McCoy, and I’ve got the gears oiled in Jamaica so Peabody and McNab can haul the evidence back here. Mira says-”

“Go ahead.” Roarke lifted the burger off her plate and to her mouth. “Take a bite. You know you want to.”

“This isn’t the time for a family picnic.”

“Think of it as a combination family and company event.”

“You gotta eat, Dallas,” Feeney told her. “That’s primo cow. You don’t wa

“Fine. Fine.” She bit in. “Mira says-okay, this is really good, and I see absolutely no reason I can’t sit down and eat this while I brief you.”

“Just let me set this on auto, and you can brief both of us.”

She moved to a table, and sitting, gripped the burger in both hands. Even as she took another bite, Roarke was dumping some sort of grilled vegetables on her plate.

“To balance it out,” he told her.

“Whatever.” If he wanted to play as if everything was dandy between them, she could get on board. There was enough inside her head without marriage weirdness. “Okay, here’s how I think it went down, and I need EDD to dig into McCoy’s links and verify. Whoever took her out contacted her. She’s happy and excited enough to take some Sober-Up to counteract the wine she’s been guzzling with her neighbor. She uses birth control. She fixes up the place, and herself.”

“Sounds like someone expecting a hot date, not a girl getting ready to pop termination pills.” Feeney shook his head. “She’s been rolling with Blair Bissel, and Bissel’s dead. You figure she had another guy dangling?”

“Possible. More possible that whoever contacted her made her think one of several options. That he had news on Bissel-the whole thing was a mistake, a cover-up, maybe an operation. He’s going to bring Bissel to her place, for hiding out until it’s safe. Or he made her think he was Bissel.”

“That’d be a trick.”

“Not if you’re the man’s brother. You got a strong resemblance, and you could augment that. You’ve been jealous of the bastard all your life, and here’s your chance to get some young stuff on his back.”

Feeney contemplated the beer he’d brought to the table. “That’s a good one. Damn good one. Had to contact her, though, if she had time to prep herself. We’ll go deep on the ‘links, and put her unit in the mix. If he used e-mail, it’s going to be a bitch to find.”

“That’s your deal. I’m looking at Carter Bissel. He knows what big bro’s been up to. He’s had a side deal going with his trainer. Blair’s working with Kade, and sleeping with her. She knows about McCoy, and about whatever Bissel gave her that was secreted in the locket. There’s a reason that was taken from the scene. McCoy’s a loose thread, and she has to be snipped.”

“I said it’s good, but why not just go in and snip?” Feeney questioned. “Why the big show?”

“Same deal as Ewing. Lots of bells and whistles, lots of show and smoke. He likes to improvise. He’s having fun with this. And maybe because the need for cover seemed to warrant it, maybe for the drama. Maybe both.”