Home > Books > Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(129)

Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(129)

Author:J. D. Robb

“From sales, rentals, the porn revenue.”

“Of course. A superior product will merit handsome profits. And we produced superior products.”

“You and Devereaux.”

“He had the funds, I had the experience and expertise.”

“Spell it out, Iris.”

And she did, the procedures, start to finish. Abductions, transportation, training, punishments, rewards, security. Every detail—on record.

“Devereaux, Devereaux, sounds familiar.” Eve pushed up, frowning, pacing. Then stopped. Smiled. “Oh yeah, that’s the rich, sadistic pervert I sent to the morgue this morning. He’s dead.”

“Dead? That’s impossible.”

“Possible. One of the women he abused decided she didn’t want to be a slave anymore. She didn’t want to be gangbanged at a party for a bunch of sick fucks. He got off easy. You won’t.”

Her lips quivered before she firmed them. “I don’t believe you. I personally selected every domestic and consort for Jonah.”

“Seeing’s believing.” Eve pulled out a crime scene photo. “I’m full of dumbass sayings today.”

Beaty sat, several moments, staring at the bloodied corpse of her longtime partner. “Jonah Devereaux was a visionary, and a friend.”

“One you were ready to toss over to us for a deal.”

“And a man who understood self-preservation.” She pushed the photo away with her fingertips. “You think I can’t do twenty?”

“Oh, I think you can do the twenty—though I doubt you’ll ever get to it. Could be wrong,” she said as she rose and opened the door. “Special Agent Teasdale, you’re up. FBI,” Eve said to Beaty. “Federal charges, numerous and heavy. All those abductions crossing state lines, the shipping of human minors over same, not to mention internationally.”

“We have a deal, on record, in writing.”

“And that deal holds.” Reo rose. “For New York. Federal charges? Out of our hands.”

“Oh, one more thing before we turn this over?” Eve paused at the door. “Your visionary friend? He ran the auction—the big one coming right up—as a side deal, charging the Academy fees, collecting them.”

“You’re lying!”

“Hey, he’s dead. Why would I bother? Over to you, Special Agent.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Always a pleasure.”

“Back at you. Dallas, Reo, and Peabody exiting Interview. Record end.”

Eve waited long enough to watch two other agents escort Beaty out while Teasdale read off charges.

“I love when a plan works.” Eve rolled her shoulders. “And you’ve got to love when they just don’t see it coming. Get me this fucking Kunes guy, Peabody, and let’s crack him like an egg for Mina.”

“All over it!”

“That was good work, Dallas. We all did good work on this.”

“Not done yet, but yeah, all-around good work. She thought she’d skate. Do twenty, probably run some businesses from inside. They were nothing to her, Reo, those girls were nothing to her but profit margins. But she felt something for Devereaux, you could see it. She’d roll him flat to make a deal, but she felt something for him. Friendship, admiration.”

“More than she felt for the clients she gave up. Which we’re going to start knocking down like bowling pins. A favorite sport.”

“Bowling’s your favorite sport?”

“No, knocking bad guys down like bowling pins. Tag me if you need me on Kunes. I’ve got to get this to the boss. Buy you a drink later?”

“Sunday afternoon, our place, barbecue.”

“Yeah? I am so there.”

“How did that come out of my mouth?” Eve asked herself. Then went to her office for a hit of coffee before she took on the murderer of Mina Cabot.

Epilogue

There were times she drove through the gates toward home that she felt euphoric. Times she felt exhausted. Tonight, she felt a tangle of both at once.

When she parked, got out of the car, she stood a moment looking at the trees, the grass, the flowers in the softening light of a summer evening. She needed this world right now, and everything waiting inside the house.

Then she walked in, saw Summerset.

Maybe not everything.

Not in the mood to swipe snipes, she thought, and headed straight for the stairs with the cat jogging behind her.

“Lieutenant.”

“Not today, Satan.”

“Lieutenant,” he said again, and annoyed, she turned.