“When was the last time you did that?”
She pinched her belly fat. “It’s been way too long.”
“Take a ride this weekend. Want some company?”
“You couldn’t keep up with me.”
“Nobody can,” Lisa said. “Maybe you should slow down and give somebody a chance. What about that forensic anthropologist?”
“Daniel Brooks. He’s on Tarawa, in the South Pacific, digging up old bones. I don’t know when he’ll be back.” They’d hooked up while working together on a case. She liked him a lot and missed him when he left, though he’d invited her to come join him if she wanted to get away for a while. “Besides, I’m not sure that what we had is a thing.”
“You could make it a thing.”
“I’m too busy for a thing.”
“A thing is something you should always make time for,” Lisa said. “Things can be very relaxing. You could get a battery-operated thing.”
Eve laughed. “I think the thing we’re talking about just changed into a different thing.”
“It’s kind of the same thing.”
“Good night, Lisa.”
“Good night, Eve.”
Eve disconnected, tossed her phone on the bed beside her, and instead of going to sleep, and facing that endless loop of death, she opened her laptop again and watched some of the Vista Grande gate video, starting a list of the vehicles that came and went. She got bored after a while, so she switched to searching the web for Sherry Simms’ It’s A Steal business.
She found accounts for It’s A Steal on eBay and Poshmark. Joel Dalander’s girlfriend was selling designer handbags, accessories, and jewelry, basically all the things Eve had seen in their home office during her initial search. A telling clue was that the It’s A Steal accounts on the two sites were opened a few weeks before the spree of home invasions. Eve made a mental note of that.
That was the last thought Eve had before she fell asleep sitting on top of the bed, her laptop still open on her lap.
CHAPTER NINE
Eve overslept by an hour. So she dressed quickly without showering first, which she told herself was okay since she’d showered the night before, and rushed down to the lobby for the breakfast buffet.
She was serving herself a modest portion of scrambled eggs and four strips of bacon when Duncan showed up, took two plates off the stack of dishes, and joined her in line. Most of the Hilton staff knew that he wasn’t staying there, but they didn’t mind him mooching off their buffet since he was Eve’s guest and she’d been a resident for several weeks. She’d more than paid for his meals as part of her rent during her extended stay.
Duncan heaped bacon and sausage onto one of the plates. “I hope you don’t leave this hotel until I retire.”
Eve said, “That reminds me, I need to check on the work at my condo today. The renovation is taking forever.”
He loaded his second plate with pancakes and scrambled eggs, then covered the food with maple syrup. “I told you to go with a real contractor instead of a crime scene cleaner doing it as a side gig. But you wanted to save a buck.”
It wasn’t just that. It was also more convenient and she wanted to do a favor for the crime scene cleaner, who was an ex-cop. But she knew he was right.
Eve gestured to his breakfast. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a couple of weeks now. Why do you take two plates of food at once?”
“I don’t want to get maple syrup on my meat.” He picked up a plate in each hand and they headed for one of the tables.
“Have you thought about taking smaller portions or finishing one plate before starting on another?”
“I don’t want to make extra trips to the buffet.”
“Of course not,” Eve said. “God forbid you should get more exercise.”
They sat down. He tucked a napkin into his collar in a futile attempt to protect his tie, already a historical mosaic of everything he’d eaten in the last month, from getting stained. They began to eat. Duncan started with his plate of syrup-slathered pancakes and eggs.
“What did your wife say about your face?”
“Since you and I were possibly going to be undercover at the sting house all week, Gracie went down to Palm Springs to start fixing up our condo to be our primary residence. Don’t ask me what that involves, because I don’t know. I’ll join her there for the weekend.”
“Did you tell her that you got hurt?”
“Why spoil her trip? She’ll get all worried and rush back. I’m fine and enjoying my quality time with Marshal Dillon and Colonel Sanders.”