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She angled it, turned in. “Patrice said their families spent a lot of money greasing palms, keeping them out of jail, off the books. Houston maybe gets busted for a deal, and the deal’s with Dudley say. Dudley’s father has to pony up to keep his son out of it, but he was probably pissed, punished the son some other way.”

“It plays for me. Another pay-it-back factor. Both the vics serviced them in some way,” Peabody proposed, and followed Eve into her office. “Then became successful, got the cache, but still offered services.”

“It could be enough. Both vics played to what Delaughter called their underlayment.” Eve stood, studying the board. Saying nothing, Peabody moved to the AutoChef, programmed two coffees. “Who they are beneath the surface, and now what they can and do command. They bought them then, they buy them now.”

Eve took the coffee, eased a hip onto her desk, continued to study the board. “Who’s going to put them together with an LC they booked in their twenties? That’s what they think. They’re not in her book. And who’d put them together with a limo driver who dealt illegals when they were all hardly more than kids?”

“Even connecting them this way doesn’t lock it in.”

“No, but it will. Another mistake of arrogance—their little private joke.”

“And maybe, like you said, they still use.”

“No maybe about it. Dudley’s got the whole toy store, and he’d never resist taking samples. And with this twisted relationship they have, I’d say Moriarity would share.”

“The sex is another angle. They weren’t in the vic’s book, but they might be in someone else’s.”

Again, Eve shook her head. “Too much ego to pay for sex or more to risk anyone finding out they did. They’re above that, too high on the food chain to have to pay at this stage. Women are supposed to be eager to give it to them. It’s not about sex anyway. It never was. It was, and is, about power, dominance, violence, privilege. Expensive thrills. A man drugs his wife so he can watch his best friend rape her? That’s not about sex. It’s about their own amusement, and still is. About their connection to each other. She was just another knot in the rope that ties them together. They’re fucking soul mates.”

“If they drugged Delaughter so they could share, they could have done it again. If they use sex as a kind of bond.”

“Yeah. They’d be a lot more careful since she found them out. What have you got on the travel?”

“Enough to tell you they’re all over the damn place. They may be based in New York, but they’re not here half the time. Maybe less than half. I’m putting together trips they’ve either taken together or ended up in the same place but traveled separately. They’ve both got private transpo—multiple transpos—so it’s tricky. Added to it they’ve each got homes or villas or pieds-à-terre or however you say it all over. We’re going to have a lot to go through, even keeping it to a year.”

“Send me a chunk of it, and I’ll start scrolling for missing persons or unsolveds.”

She sat at her desk, considered her board. Then contacted Charles Monroe.

“I just sent you an e-mail,” he told her. “We’re looking forward to seeing everyone on Saturday.”

“Saturday . . . right.” What the hell had she done? “Good.”

“And this isn’t about asking if we’d bring potato salad.”

“No. It’s about Ava Crampton. Did she ever mention an incident from her early days. Hired for a threesome, husband and wife. Young, rich. During the book, the husband slips the wife a Whore/Rabbit combo, and adds a friend to the mix. Husband and pal take turns with the wife.”

“No, and she wouldn’t have. She could’ve lost her license, or had it suspended for not reporting the illegals use, particularly if the wife wasn’t aware or in full prior agreement. That would’ve added rape, and Ava could’ve been charged. And that’s a career ender. Reporting it afterward would have covered her, as she’d have had a strong case for participating under duress or out of fear, but it would’ve gone in her file.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“If this happened, how did you find out about it?”

“She told the wife.”

On-screen, he smiled. “That sounds like her. Direct and clean.”

“Give me a quick overview of the husband’s motives. Just a general opinion.”

“Without having the background or dynamics I can’t be anything but general. The use of a rape drug indicates a need or desire to control and debase. By bringing another man into the event, without the wife’s prior knowledge or permission, he expands that control, deepens the debasement while at the same time demonstrating to the other male the female is his property. He can do as he pleases to or with her. Basically he’s saying use her, that’s what she’s here for. By sharing her they make her a kind of commodity, little more than a platter of meat they might split for dinner. It may also be a way of releasing latent homosexuality.”

“By fucking her in tandem, they metaphorically fuck each other.”

“You could put it that way.”

“Interesting. Thanks.”

“Anything I can do.”

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