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“I’d rather have a cookie. And I pick up enough crumbs I can make a damn cookie. But you’re right about EDD. I’ll get them in here to deal with this.”

“I can get your locations in less time than it would take you to arrange that.”

She hesitated. “We have permission. Go ahead. I’m still getting EDD in. They can do what they do, and I can work my way back to Central via the morgue. They’re having a two-for-one sale.”

“Sick,” he commented.

“Yeah, but it helps keep me from being sick. If you’ll get the locations—and keep the work right down the line, no blurs, I’m going to get the go-ahead to check out the vic’s other spaces. You never know.”

She found nothing in Adrianne’s private spaces that applied, but she verified through the files that both Dudley and Moriarity had used her services in the past. With Wallace’s permission, she used the vic’s office ’link to notify next of kin.

When she was done, Roarke leaned over the chair to kiss the top of her head. “Devastating for them. Painful for you.”

“I can’t think about it now.” Couldn’t let herself feel it, not now. “He used a remote, likely a disposable ’link, you say, both times. To set up and to close.”

“The same device, both times,” Roarke confirmed. “As were the e-mails. We have various locations. I’ve listed them for you.”

“I’ve got to go finish putting this together. You saved me some time, so I won’t be punching you.”

“My face is relieved, yet strangely disappointed.”

“I don’t know when I’ll be home.”

“Neither do I, as when I’ve cleared up some business I need to clear up, I’ll be coming down to Central to see if I can be of use to Feeney.”

“I’d tell you Feeney can handle things, but with nine dead, I’m not turning down any help. No point, is there, in telling you not to buy a bunch of food for a bunch of cops?”

He sent her a cheerful grin. “None at all if I’m hungry.”

When they were out on the street, he cupped her face in his hands. “No point telling you to catch an hour’s sleep, even if it’s on the floor of your office.”

“Probably not today.” Her ’link signaled. “Hold on. Dallas.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I can’t. My husband’s standing right here. He might get suspicious.”

“He’ll understand,” Peabody claimed, “when you both hear what I found. Guess whose mommy had a scorching affair with a dead French chef before he was dead. Like twenty-five years ago.”

“Delaflote boned Dudley’s mother?”

“That’s the word, mostly in French. It was a BFD in Europe back then. The vic was younger, and she was still married to the father. She left him—the husband—and set up house with Delaflote. Didn’t last more than about six months, but it broke the marriage, and, according to the gossip back in the day, caused serious embarrassment for the Dudley family.”

“That’s worth a ‘very fond of.’ ”

“Aww, I’m all about the love.”

“Find me a connection between Adrianne Jonas and Moriarity, more than he was an occasional client, then we’ll talk love. Status with the shoe?”

“I’ve been buried in illicit affairs, fashion, marital high jinks, and celebrity scandals. I’ll check.”

“I’m heading to the morgue. When I’m done, I’ll be in. Polish it up, Peabody.”

“I think it’s starting to shine. I really do.”

Eve clicked off. “I have to go.”

“What about the shoe?” he demanded as she jumped in her car.

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