Free Devoted in Death by J. D. Robb Page A

froze; her color drained so that for a moment she seemed carved in ice. “What does that mean?”
    “Whoever held him against his will hurt him. Do you know anyone who had that kind of grudge against him? Do you know if Dorian had information someone would want enough to give him pain in order to get it? Did he owe money, did he have secrets?”
    “No.” The word choked out of her, then she shook her head furiously. “No, no, no. He had secrets, I imagine, as anyone does. He didn’t owe anyone money, not that I know of, and he didn’t gamble particularly, he didn’t do illegals. He didn’t do the sorts of things that put you into debt. Two days? Oh God, two days? All that time, hurting him.”
    She shoved up from the table, crossing her arms, hugging herself as she circled the small room. “Two days. God. God. No, no, no. No one who knew him could have done that.”
    She spun back to Eve, eyes ravaged. “You’re married. The book, the vid, and what I’ve seen on screen – it makes it clear you’re in love with your husband.”
    “My life’s irrelevant.”
    “It isn’t ! You know what it is to love someone, to know them, because to really love, all the way in, you have to know. I know Dorian. No one we know could have done this. Someone else. Some sick, twisted, sadistic bastard. Can you give me a hand, can you spare a few dollars, can you show me how to get to Seventh Avenue – that’s all it would take. He’d help. Dorian would help. He took a cab.”
    She pressed her hands to her face. “What time, what time? It couldn’t have been much past eleven-thirty. He’d have gone right out front, hailed a cab. You find out. You need to find out if he got in a cab or whoever did this, if they took him right from Lincoln Center. Or if he got downtown, and they took him from there. You need to —”
    “I’ll do my job, Ms. Tesh, I promise you.”
    “You didn’t know him.”
    “That doesn’t matter. He’s mine now, and he’ll get my best.”
    “Are you as good as they made out you are in the book, in the vid?”
    “He’ll get my best,” Eve repeated.

5
    Eve walked back to the bull pen and Peabody’s desk.
    “Give me what you’ve got. We’re going to switch off.”
    “FBI’s in it. The agent in charge is Carl Zweck. They’re following up a lead in Branson, Missouri, but have already connected with the primary in Pleasant Acres, New Jersey, on the murder last week. I just finished talking to her,” Peabody continued. “Detective Francine Lupine. They’re small town, Dallas, and don’t have a lot of resources or experience with serials. She’s looking for all the help she can get.
    “Transferring notes to your computer right now. I reached out to the two primaries in Pennsylvania. Working my way back. FBI’s profiled a team, the romantic angle, just where we’re leaning.”
    “Suspects? Descriptions?”
    “They got nothing.” Peabody lifted her hands. “I’m wading through reams of reports and federal doublespeak, but it comes down to not so much. It looks like the unsubs switch vehicles here and there, and the ones recovered – in the cases where the owner was a vic – are wiped clean. Dozens of interviews over the past couple months, and conflicting reports¸ as you’d expect. A man and a woman, two males, various races, age ranges. The probability run is higher on the hetero couple, and the profile is giving an age range of twenty-five to thirty-five.”
    Which was, Eve agreed, not so much.
    “I’ll work with this. The interviews here indicate the vic left after the performance, with plans to go downtown to After Midnight. Several friends were to join him. Earnestina is Tina R. Denton. She’s not going to play into this, but we’ll follow up.”
    A follow-up wasn’t wasting time, Eve thought, even when it felt like it.
    “The most likely now is Kuper caught a cab, went downtown, and they grabbed him. Random choice, wrong place, wrong time. You’re looking for insight