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Eve ran it over in her head. “That would’ve been smart. Keep the accountant, aim the light on him, but keep him fat and happy somewhere else. They should’ve thought of that, should have tried it.”
“They’ve got somebody who’s running their numbers, cooking their books, helping them run scams, but they kill him during an audit they need fixed up? It’s dumbass.”
“Impulse again, instant gratification. They could always get rid of Parzarri if he didn’t go along, if he made any of the wrong noises. They didn’t give him a chance, either way. They had an accountant, a money guy, a hacker, and the muscle.”
“Now they’re down an accountant.”
“Yeah.” Impulse, instant gratification, Eve thought. “They may compound the stupid by going after the money guy. But more—think about this—by killing the accountant, it gives us something they didn’t know we had—that connection. Now we know Parzarri was involved. So maybe they hope to shine that line on his corpse, with less time to plan it through, less time to implement. But that’s the impulse, the quick trigger again. And back to greed. Fucking greedy bastard. Why invest in the accountant? You figure you’ll just bribe another, start him out on what’s it—entry level. I bet Alexander thinks that’s smart business. The ultimate layoff.”
“No severance package.”
“If he’s going to try to hang it on the dead guy, he needs the money guy’s cooperation. Or he needs him dead, too.” Considering the pattern, Eve hit the sirens and floored it.
“Here we go again,” Peabody sighed, and grabbed the chicken stick.
Eve swung to the curb in front of the building, slapped On Duty as she double-parked, and ignored the bitter fury of other drivers. She scanned quickly for a dark Exec Lux 5000, saw none as she jogged up the steps to the main entrance.
She jabbed the buzzer.
In under ten seconds, Whitestone opened the door with a welcoming smile. “Lieutenant Dallas, we were just—”
“Ingersol.”
“Jake?” Whitestone stepped back as she strode straight into the spacious lobby that smelled of fresh paint and gleamed with smooth surfaces. The unmanned reception counter formed a central, wide U backed by a shimmering silver wall with THE WIN GROUP in large, fancy script.
“We need to talk to him.”
“He just stepped out. He should be back in a few minutes. Why don’t I give you the tour while—”
“Where?” Eve demanded. “Where did he go?”
Puzzlement edged toward worry. “I don’t know, exactly. We’re getting furniture delivered this morning, some other things. Rob and Jake and I wanted to make sure it all went smooth. Rob’s back in his office, trying to coordinate deliveries. Jake got a call on his ’link and said he had to go take care of something and wouldn’t be more than an hour. He’s only been gone about twenty minutes, maybe a half hour. I didn’t pay attention.”
“Peabody.”
“I’m on it,” she said, and walked away to follow the unspoken order for a BOLO on Jake Ingersol.
“On what?” Whitestone demanded, more agitated. “Is there something wrong? Something to do with Jake?”
“Chaz Parzarri was murdered this morning.”
“What? How? Jesus Christ. Rob!” He turned, moved right, shouting. “Rob, get out here. He was in the hospital, right? Are you sure it was murder? Maybe he was hurt worse than we thought. I just can’t—”
“What the hell, Brad, I’m in the middle of— Oh, sorry, Lieutenant. I didn’t know you were here.”
“She says Chaz Parzarri from Brewer—she says he’s been murdered.”
“When? Where? He’s in Las Vegas, or no. God, he was coming back this morning. I talked to Jim Arnold last night. They were coming back this morning. Jim? Is Jim all right?”
“He’s fine. Do you know where your other partner went when he left here?”
“Jake? He had a client with some crisis or problem. He just said he was meeting the client for a quick coffee and reassurance. He’d be back. Why?”
“I need to speak with him. Urgently.”
“Let me just tag him. He’s going to be upset about Chaz. They worked together on several accounts.” Newton pulled out his pocket ’link.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention the murder. Just find out his location. I’ll take it from there.”
