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“Only a few days ago, actually. He wanted to see about endowing a scholarship—or have the business do one—for the high school he, Cill, and Benny graduated from. We scheduled a meeting for next week—the four of them, me, and the financial adviser. We talked for a while, actually. Caught up since it had been several months since we’d actually talked. He was seeing a woman, seriously. He seemed really happy.”
“Did he speak to you about any projects—work projects?”
“No, not really. I’m not especially e-savvy, certainly not on Bart’s level, or the others. But I got the impression something was brewing. He was excited.”
“Were the others on board about the scholarship?”
“Absolutely. As far as I know,” she qualified. “They never did anything without all four agreeing.”
“So he didn’t seem concerned about anything or anyone?”
“On the contrary. He seemed
on top of the world.”
On top of the world,” Eve said from the driver’s seat. “Happy-go-lucky. Doesn’t seem like the type who ends up on a slab at the morgue with his head on a tray.”
“He was rich, relatively successful, content, and in a competitive business,” Peabody pointed out. “Fertile ground for jealousy.”
“Yeah, it is.” She pulled out her ’link when it signaled, read a text from Roarke. “We’re splitting off. I want you and McNab to go to East Washington. There’s a mini-con at the Potomac Hotel.”
“Road trip!” Peabody pumped her fists in the air.
“Before you break out the soy chips and go-cups, you’re going as collectors. You’re especially interested in swords.”
“Undercover road trip!” And now executed a quick, happy dance.
“Jesus, Peabody, maintain some dignity.”
“I’ve got to go home and change. I look too much like a cop.” Eve surveyed the breezy summer pants, the cheerfully striped skids. “You do?”
“I’ve got just the thing. Things,” Peabody corrected. “I need a lot more sparkles, more color.”
“Great, go get those, grab McNab, and take the first shuttle.”
“Shuttle. Like one of Roarke’s right?”
“No, like the shuttle regular people, including cops on undercover road trips take.”
Peabody’s acre of grin tumbled into a pouty “Aw.”
“I want buzz on U-Play, any underground data that might’ve leaked on this game, info on the sword, or its type. And I want you to stay out of trouble.”
“It all sounded like fun a minute ago.”
“You want fun? Go to the circus. For now, get McNab, go there. Pick up your con passes at Central Information. They’re under your name. And I don’t want to see any toys or games on your expense chit.”
“What if we have to buy something to maintain our cover?”
“Don’t.”
“Less and less fun all the time. Are we cleared for a hotel if we need to follow up a lead?”
Eve shot her a narrowed stare. “It better be a damn good lead and a cheap hotel or I take the expense out of your hide.”
“If there’s any rumors, innuendoes, or hard data on this sword, a con’s the place to find them. Really.”
“If I didn’t believe that you wouldn’t be going.” She pulled over to the curb in front of Peabody’s apartment. “Go get your geek on. Check in when you get there. Don’t screw up.”
