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“Yeah, you do that.”
“It’s a wonder he didn’t tap the si
ster. She’s just his type, right? Just into her forties, plenty of money, really attractive.”
“Who says he didn’t?”
“Well, she did.” But now Peabody’s eyebrows drew together. “But yeah, she strikes as a better liar than little sister.”
“We’ll see. And we’ll run through the rest of the client list tomorrow. Martella Schubert’s not going to be the only one he dosed, if he dosed her. We can start working that angle.”
“He’s our dead guy,” Peabody said, “but I really hate when they’re fuckheads.”
“Being a fuckhead’s a good reason to punch somebody in the face, not to cave in their skull.”
“Still, I wish he’d been a nice guy. On the other hand, then he’d be a dead nice guy, and you’d have to feel bad. So maybe being a fuckhead’s better.”
“Just check the alibi, Peabody.” Eve pulled over to the curb.
“On it. Thanks for the lift. Hey, look at that hoodie!”
She pointed to a sidewalk stall and the virulent orange hooded sweatshirt with an animated hula dancer plastered over the front.
“That’s just perfect for McNab. A little from-Santa present.”
“Does he know Santa doesn’t exist?”
“Santa exists in the hearts of all true believers.” Face aglow, Peabody patted her own. “Can I borrow fifty bucks?”
“What?”
“I’m short until payday.”
“You’re short every day.”
“Ho, ho, ho. Financially, in this case. Please? He’d really love that hoodie.”
“Christ. Santa Claus and hula dancers,” Eve muttered as she dug into her pockets.
“Oh, there’s one with a gyrating Elvis in a Santa hat! How much fun is that!”
“Elvis has been dead a hundred years. How is it fun to have a dead man gyrating on your chest?”
“Elvis never dies, just like Santa. No, it’s the hula girl. Except—”
Eve shoved money at Peabody. “Go, buy McNab a ridiculous hoodie. Get out of my car.”
“Fun! Shopping! Bye!”
Eve pulled out, flicked a glance in the rearview. And saw Peabody doing a happy little bounce in front of dancing, gyrating hoodies.
Merry Christmas.
But it got her thinking, made her curse and check the time. If she only had two days, and today was practically over, when the hell was she supposed to buy stuff for people the rules somehow dictated she had to buy stuff for?
She headed uptown, took a detour. It was a little late in the day, but there was a chance she’d find a source who could wrap it all up for her—or at least some of it—quick and easy.
She drove by first, spotted the kid on his corner, manning his stall, then dealt with the insanity of parking.
