“Ah, you said she’d planned a trip, and the boyfriend, such as he was, canceled—on the night she was taken. This would be that fuckhead.”
“The very same. I really wanted to look at him, but he’s covered, as he was working in the bar until two. Plus, he’s too busy looking for the next quick bang to bother with Covino. And he doesn’t care enough about anybody but himself to go to all this trouble.”
“So not a suspect.”
“No. I brought her suitcase into evidence. She’d packed all these girly beach clothes and sexy stuff, a bottle of sparkling wine, those little candles,” she added, making a circle with her thumb and index finger.
“It makes you sad.”
“Maybe. Some. Everyone says she’s smart, stable, sensible. She wasn’t about him. She’s not the first to go off the tracks over some asshole with a good line and a pretty face.”
When Roarke grinned, and laughed, she shook her head. “You’re hardly ever an asshole.”
“Flattery like that will get you a pepperoni pizza.”
And he’d timed that comment perfectly, Eve noted, as the waitress set the pizza on the table rack. She set out the plates, topped off their water glasses.
“Enjoy! And let me know if you need anything else.”
Roarke slid a slice onto a plate, passed it to Eve, then took one for himself.
“This is the hardest part,” Eve said. “Waiting for it to cool enough so you don’t burn off the roof of your mouth.”
She glanced around. “The first time I came in here, sat at the counter in front of the window, everything was new, and everything was possible. I was free, and I was going to the Academy, and I was going to be a damn good cop.”
“And so you are, a damn good cop.”
“Never figured on you. What I got there was a damn big bonus.” She picked up her slice, calculated she had about twenty more seconds left to avoid a scorched mouth. “So did Mavis’s place pass the inspection deal? What?” she demanded when he cocked his head. “I pay attention.”
“More than many realize. It did, yes, and so the walls are going up. The landscape crew started some of the plantings, though the new owners and tenants want to do considerable themselves. And Peabody sent me very impressive, detailed plans for a water feature, asked about ordering the stone and pump and so on for it. She intends to build it as a thank-you to Mavis and Leonardo.”
“She’s really going to do that waterfall thing?”
“Apparently. The design’s creative and flawless.”
“I pay one visit to a retiring mob boss and my partner’s replicating his waterfall thing. And you’re buying his construction business.”
She tried a bite, let that warm, delicious comfort fill her senses. “Perfect,” she said, and took another.
* * *
When they got home, Summerset waited.
“Did you enjoy your evening out?”
“Judge for yourself.” Roarke handed him a small take-out box. “A midnight snack for you, and you’ll find it well worth it.”
“Thank you. I’m sure I will.” Since Galahad reared up to sniff at the box, Summerset looked down. “You’ve had your meal, but perhaps someone will find a small treat for you in a bit.”
Too blissed on pizza to take a swipe, Eve just headed upstairs.
Board and book, she thought, coffee and a write-up of the interview with Mosebly. She’d check in with her detectives. A hit meant they’d check in with her, but she’d still tag them.
As she updated the board, the cat wound between her legs.
She crouched down to give him a rub, and the bite of pizza she’d folded into a napkin in her pocket.
“That’s all you get.”
When Roarke came in twenty minutes later, suit replaced by jeans and a T-shirt, she’d moved from board to book.
“Elder’s the only one who belonged to a gym,” Eve began. “They didn’t go to the same salon, use the same bank, medical provider, and no cross in circle of friends I’ve found.”
“Yet when you showed the photos to our waitress—and she called others over—the staff recognized Elder and Covino, and believed they recognized Hobe.”
“Good pizza gets a rep in a neighborhood. There’ll be other places they cross. I still think he lives in the neighborhood or close. I think that’s going to pay off. But he may have seen them elsewhere.”
She swiveled in her chair. “The thing is, Covino didn’t work in the neighborhood. So she probably used some shops in her work area. I found her market—where she bought her flowers—but they didn’t recognize the other women.”