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Eve got her own coffee, sat, and spelled it out.

Frowning, Reo tapped a finger to the side of her mug. “No physical evidence on any of them?”

“That’s why I need the warrants. To find some.”

“You don’t really know what you’re looking for.”

“But I’ll know it when I find it. The weight’s there, Reo. Motive, means, opportunity, e-skills—and an intimate knowledge of the vic’s domicile, habits, and security. Add in by their own statements only those three had full knowledge of the game.”

“They’re alibied.”

Eve shook her head, dismissing it. “The alibis are soft. They’re so soft they’re squishy. You haven’t seen the place. I have. It’s like a beehive, with the bees buzzing everywhere. It’s a five-minute walk to the scene. Any one of them could have slipped out for an hour without anybody knowing. And if someone had, the killer would’ve had another alibi ready. It’s the way they think—in cause and effect, action and reaction. Mira’s profile adds more. He knew his killer.”

Reo puffed out her cheeks. “I can work it. You say they’ve been cooperative so far?”

“Oh yeah.”

“You could always request a search, see how each of them reacts.”

“And that gives any of them time to ditch whatever it is I might find.”

“I can work it,” she said again. “And I sure hope you find something.” She rose. “Do you know how uncomfortable that chair is?”

“Yeah.”

Reo laughed, rubbed tired blue eyes. “Regardless, if you’d been another ten minutes, I’d’ve been asleep in it. I need a damn nap. See you tonight? Nadine’s party?”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’m going to have to trowel on the enhancers to look half human. I’ll get your warrants,” she added as she headed out.

“Thanks.”

One down, Eve thought, then walked out to pull Peabody away from her desk. “Let’s go have another talk with CeeCee.”

As they started for the glide, she spotted Reineke at one of the machines in Vending. “Good work, Detective.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant. Jenkinson’s walking them through processing.” He drew a very sad-looking Danish out of the slot. “You know, turns out in the end they were just a couple of idiots. He still had the clone phone he used to tag her before he went out and bashed the dead husband, and the pizza box hadn’t run through his recycler yet. And her? She bought fancy underwear online a couple hours after she’s notified she’s got a dead husband. Stupidity shoulda gotten them more than ten and twenty.”

“I bet they don’t come out any smarter. Good work,” she said again. “And I don’t want to find out you and Jenkinson shared the surveillance doc around the bullpen.”

“It’s too bad because they may be stupid, but they’re damn flexible.”

She waited until she was on the glide to grin.

“We’re not looking at the girlfriend? CeeCee?” Peabody asked.

“No. It’s one of the partners, but she may know more than she thinks. She’s had some time to settle. I want to poke at her memory, and impressions.”

They found CeeCee at home, in a tidy little apartment she shared with a trio of goldfish in a glass bowl.

Eve wondered about people who kept fish. Did they like to watch them circle, circle, staring out with those weird eyes? What was the appeal?

“I took some time off work.” CeeCee sat in a high-backed scoop chair. She’d pulled her hair back in a tail and hadn’t bothered with enhancements. She looked pale and tired. “I just can’t go back yet. It feels like if I do, it’s saying Bart didn’t matter enough for me to stay home. And he did.”

“Have you called a counselor?”

“No. I guess . . . I guess I’m not ready to feel better. That sounds stupid.”

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