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“You bet. Randall had trouble, needs to needle his client, he’s got a copy of those books somewhere. If he didn’t before, he sure as hell copied them when he doctored Natalie’s files.”
“I imagine they thought of that as well, and got the location out of him.”
“Maybe, maybe not. He wasn’t tortured, and the place wasn’t tossed. Could be they figure they have all the copies, or already got his. But suppose he was smarter than that, more careful than that. This place needs to be gone over, top to bottom.”
“Which will take hours,” Roarke pointed out. “If you think you have hours left in you, you’re mistaken. Compromise,” he said, anticipating an argument. “Send Peabody and McNab back to do that. An e-man and a detective. If there’s something here, they’ll find it.”
“I’ll let them take first swing at it.”
She went out, sealed the door.
“It’s possible, if you’re right about the copy, he kept it off-site. A bank box.”
“Possible, but it seems to me he’d want it easily accessible, especially now. Shit’s flying, he needs his shield. What if he wants it after banking hours, or on Sunday? Traveled a lot,” she continued as she got into the car. “If he used a vault, it could be anywhere. Guy who travels that much would know how to run, know how to move fast and light if he had to.”
And thinking that, she dropped into sleep.
She woke, stretched nearly horizontal as Roarke stopped in front of the house. Rather than refreshing her, the mobile nap left her groggy and disoriented, and fumbling for the controls to bring her seat back up.
Roarke lifted it, as he’d lowered it, from his side of the controls. “You need actual sleep.”
“I need actual coffee.”
She’d have food to go with it, Roarke determined as he walked with her into the house.
“Red meat,” he said to Summerset. “Her office AC. If the others haven’t eaten, send up a bloody cow.”
“Right away.” As they headed up, Summerset lifted the cat that ribboned between his legs. “We’ll just put some nice green beans along with that steak. She won’t like it, but he’ll make her eat them, won’t he?”
Mavis didn’t exactly pop up when Eve entered the office, but she managed to shove herself out of the chair. “You’re back.”
“Yeah, sorry, things got complicated. You’ve got to give me a few minutes to deal with another thing.”
“You get the list?” Peabody asked her. “There are a couple that look good to me.”
“List of what?”
“The agencies, counselors. You said I should send it to your PPC.”
“Right, right.” Her brain felt like mush. “I didn’t get the chance to review. Something came up. I would give you the world drenched in chocolate for a cup of coffee.”
“I’ll get it for you.” Leonardo eased Mavis back in a chair.
“Chocolate thief,” Peabody said, hoping to make Mavis smile. “Anyway, a couple stand out for me. So—”
“I’ll look it over in a few minutes. I need to pull you and McNab off this, put you on another assignment. Randall Sloan is dead.”
“Well, shit, you’ve had a busy day.”
“Staged suicide, that’s my take. I worked the scene, sweepers will be processing.”
Peabody opened her mouth, glanced at Mavis, then nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll fill you in, then I need you and McNab back at the scene.”
“You’ll fill them in over a meal,” Roarke added.
“As soon as I look over the list.”
