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“Now, Peabody.”
Behind Nadine the living area spread—sparcely furnished as yet, with glossy floors the color of the roasted chestnuts that had scented the street. A wall of windows opened the living space to a wide terrace, and a spectacular view of the city.
“I don’t have much time,” Eve began.
“Nice to see you, too.”
“Nadine.”
“Not much time, understood, but since you’ve been dodging me all day, I’d like a little room.”
“Not dodging you. Dodging media period, and for a reason. I’m here now because I’m going to be part of a media conference in about an hour. I don’t have much room to give.”
“Got room for coffee while we do this?”
“God, yes.”
“Follow me.”
Nadine moved briskly—Eve noticed she wore house skids with the suit—across the living space, through a dining area with a long, slick black table centered with a big glass basket in orchid blue and surrounded by black chairs with blue seat cushions. Into a silver-and-white kitchen, complete with breakfast nook in a window alcove and a massive center island.
“You don’t even cook.”
“I can if I have to, and why not have a fabulous space for catering? It so happens I have Dallas blend stocked.”
“What blend?”
“Don’t you even know what you drink?” Nadine asked as she slid open a black panel to an AutoChef.
“Roarke’s coffee.”
“Which has several blends. Yours is Dallas.”
“Huh. Peabody, can you use that wall screen?”
“Can do.”
“Put up the ID photos while we get this coffee.”
Nadine’s fingers paused on the controls of the AutoChef. “You’ve ID’d the shooters?”
“Coffee, program coffee,” Eve ordered, now fairly desperate for a hit. “Former Tactical Officer Reginald Mackie and his daughter, Willow Mackie, age fifteen.”
“Holy shit.” Nadine yanked open a drawer for a notebook, a recorder.
“No recorder, not yet. Suspects are still at large.”
Not one to stand on ceremony where coffee was concerned, Eve opened the AC herself when it signaled, took out a white mug of black coffee.
“They’ve vacated Mackie’s known residence. The minor suspect’s mother, stepfather, and half brother are in protective custody.”
“How did you ID the suspects?”
“Good police work. Look, you’ll get what I can give you now; you’ll get what I can give generally at the media conference.”
Eve gulped down coffee, felt her system revive. And paced. “Pictures on screen, Peabody.” Nadine passed Peabody a coffee regular. “You can take notes, Nadine, but no recordings until the official conference.”
Quickly, succinctly, Eve outlined what she could, still pacing, still gulping coffee.
