Chapter Eleven #3
“Are humps. To continue, she said there was something too smooth about this one, something off.”
“Well, clearly an operator. No woman—all but a girl—of twenty would find a man seventy years her senior attractive on a physical level. I suppose it’s remotely possible, but highly unlikely.”
“So add in the billions, and a well-known weakness for the type. If she’d aimed to be the fifth wife, she missed there, but Henry’s also got a rep for generosity with his side pieces.”
“Do you have a name?”
“No. I’ll try digging there. Number four said she’d seen the blonde a couple more times, and the kicker? Last December—when Henry was, according to statements, showing a lot of mental decline—she saw the same woman in New York. The blonde even smirked at her.”
“So you’re thinking it may be they continued to have a relationship, even if only now and again.”
“Of the four wives, he maintained a civil, even friendly relationship with all but the first. But here, if I’m hearing the bell right, comes an operator. Operators have an agenda. And she’s in New York when the mark, if he was one, and he damn well was, is going downhill.”
“He talked to his last wife about having things put away. So, your thought is he talked to this one.”
“Maybe showed her. But why not help yourself to something when he did? Distract the old man, help yourself to something shiny.”
“That’s easy enough. He might tell someone just that.
He’s losing his grip a bit. He might tell someone, name names.
Then you’re in the pot for accessory after the fact, aren’t you?
Maybe theft as well. When you’ve only to wait.
You’re young, he’s not. Add? If you recognized anything inside that vault, or managed to record it, did any research, you’d know very well you couldn’t just sell it off, or wear it around.
You’d need a client or a plan to find one. ”
“Huh. That’s what you’d have done?”
“Oh, absolutely. And I’d be certain I could prove—true or not—I was somewhere else entirely when something went missing. How do I know for certain who else he’s shown, or told? He might say no one, but he’s old and forgetful.”
“I want to find her. How the hell do I find a nameless blonde?”
“An operator, who may not have used her actual name.”
“Shit, that’s true, too. And she may have just been in it for whatever she could squeeze out of him. Cash here, sparkles there, a trip wherever. But she’s the first serious maybe I’ve got.”
She drank more wine, considered. “I’ll run her by the staff, by the wife, the sister. And the estate lawyer. Maybe she squeezed enough to get something out of the will. Or something on the side of that. He’d have had prenups, wouldn’t he?”
“Of course.”
“I wouldn’t mind getting some details there.”
“I can let Garrett know you’re ready to speak with him.”
“Yeah, if he can fit me in tomorrow, that’d be good. I’m going to have Peabody meet me back at Barrister House in the morning. Add the lawyer, if possible, a consult with Mira. If Lacey O’Ryan gets me those names of the partygoers, I can start trying to dig up the blonde.”
“Another busy day.”
“That’s the job. I’d take double that. Triple it if I didn’t have to do the goddamn fucking shithell of a media conference.”
“There, there.”
When she rolled her eyes darkly in his direction, he kissed her cheek.
“What else can I say? It’s also the job.”
“I hate that part.” She held out her glass. “Top this off.”
“Happy to. I might have a name or two for you.”
“Yeah?”
“Starting at the end was the way. So, a couple names. Younger, brought in for questioning a time or two, but slipped out of the nick. I haven’t dipped into their finances as yet. No violence showing on either, so it’s difficult for me to see the cosh that ended Nathan Barrister.”
“Where are they based?”
“They roam. The one uses the front of a freelance blogger—has a blog as well. It’s not bad at all. Travel blog. The other? She’s a security consultant, has her own business and does well enough with it. Both travel, and neither show travel to New York within the last month.”
“But they wouldn’t.”
“Not if they had a brain in their heads, no. A job like this? The client or broker would arrange a private shuttle. You’d have another set of identification.
“The basic moves match well enough. Jam security, slip in a window or door, take what’s been commissioned and only that. But the cosh, Eve. It doesn’t fit.”
“I need to look at them anyway.”
“I’ll send them to you. I need to look at their financials. If they’re smart, and they appear to be, any payments for this would be well buried.”
“Then you’ll dig them up. But not tonight. We’re watching a vid tonight.”
“Are we?”
“With popcorn. I guess we have to have some sort of dinner first.” She dropped her head on his shoulder. “The leaves on that tree we planted are going sort of red, sort of.”
“They are a bit. It should be a nice little show when it goes fully red.”
“Then they’ll all drop off so it stands there naked. It’s the opposite.”
“Of what?”
“People put on more clothes when it gets cold, trees go naked. It’ll stand there naked through the winter, then it’ll start the whole cycle again.”
“We’ll enjoy that, you and I, sitting here, watching it through its cycles.”
“Yeah. It’s kind of weird, sitting here, watching a tree get naked, then dressed again. But yeah, we like it.”
He sat a moment, in wonder that this fascinating, often frustrating, equally flabbergasting woman had come to be his.
“I love you, beyond reason.”
Her lips curved as she turned them up to his. “We’ve got reasons.”
She settled back, studying the tree. “Like I wouldn’t have thought of the blanket, so I’d be sitting here with a wet ass. There’s a reason. Since it’s not wet, let’s sit here a little while longer. Then we’ll go back. I’ll tag Peabody, you set things up with the lawyer.
“Then.” She sipped more wine. “We’ll feed the cat, unless he’s sticking with Summerset. We’ll eat something before popcorn and a vid.”
She tipped her head up to him. “How about something with aliens that threaten the survival of the human race, but we kick their slimy asses?”
He brushed a finger down the dent in her chin. “I have just the thing.”