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“If it can get worse, it usually does.”
“That’s why I need the consult. I think it could get worse. I have to do the notifications. Can you be there in an hour?”
“Can do.”
“Appreciate it.”
She clicked off as Peabody came back.
“I need you to go to the hospital—or check and see if the kid with the broken leg and his parents are still there. Wherever they are, go there. See what they saw, write it up. I’ll do the notifications.”
“I’m still working on the security feeds. It’s a big park.”
“Have them sent to my home and office units. We can start with sectors east of the rink. Have them sent to your home and office units, too. I want you to study them—get McNab to study them. You flag anything or anyone that looks off. If this came from inside the park, we’re looking for an individual with some sort of bag or case.”
“If?”
Eve stepped out of the office, scanned the empty locker room. “Because I’m betting it came from outside the park. We’re going to be looking at buildings with west-facing windows, starting with Sixth, working east until Lowenbaum tells me to stop.”
“Lowenbaum?”
“He’s coming in to consult. I want this rink feed on my screens at home, with equipment that doesn’t argue with me.”
“Lowenbaum. He’s so cute.” At Eve’s steely stare, Peabody hunched her shoulders. “I’m with McNab through and through, but I can see cuteness through my eyes and my Cute-O-Meter. You have to admit, he ranks high on the Cute-O-Meter.”
“Cute’s for kids and puppies—if you’re into kids and puppies. I’ll give you he’s frosty enough.”
“Completely. I’ll push on the security feeds, and see if I can find anything new from the kid and his parents.” As she spoke, Peabody began to rewind her long scarf. “We’re going to be wading through piles of wit statements.”
“Take the first ten. I’ll start on the rest. Let’s see if we can find anything that connects the three vics other than a visit to the skating rink. And let’s hope we do. If this was pure random, it’s already gotten worse.”
As she stepped outside, Eve looked over the heads of the sweepers busy working on the scene, and stared east.
Again she thought: It could get a lot worse.
2
Hard to say, Eve thought as she finally headed home, if notifying next of kin was worse in person or over the ’link. Either way, she had just sliced Ellissa Wyman’s parents in two, face-to-face, and had done the same to Brent Michaelson’s daughter, who was in Philadelphia on business, via ’link.
Their lives would never be the same. Death changed everything, she knew, and murder added a bloody smear to the change.
She had to cut through the grief—it blurred focus.
No enemies, no threats, no trouble. No bitter exes, no big piles of coveted money. At this point, it appeared the three victims had been ordinary, law-abiding people.
Wrong place, wrong time.
But why those three—two of them regulars to the rink? Out of the dozens and dozens there, why those three?
There was always a reason, she reminded herself. Even if the reason was bat-shit crazy.
She toyed with reasons as she turned through the gates, started down the winding drive toward home.
Lowenbaum’s remark broke through her theorizing.
Dallas Palace? Seriously? Is that how some of the cops saw it?
Maybe it did look something like a castle (was that the same thing as a palace?) with its grand stone walls catching the first glints of winter’s bright stars. It had towers and turrets, and with the white expanse of snow, the ice shimmering on denuded branches of trees, maybe it looked like something out of another time.
