Page 28 of Fury In Death

With an apologetic smile, Peabody lifted her shoulders.

“I get it. Just preparing myself.”

As she drove, Peabody made the contacts.

“Only the vic’s blood and/or DNA on scene, so far. You know, the victim probably didn’t land many blows, if any.”

“They may still find some hair, some fibers.”

“If they do, Harvo—who’s also coming to rock it out—will work her queenly magic.”

By the time Eve pulled into the garage at Central, Peabody finished with McKay.

“He’s coming right in. The family contacted him early this morning. He’s pretty choked up.”

“We’ll take him. I’ll get the board and book going. We’re going to the vic’s lab after. And I want to see if we can do a meet with the big bosses.”

They got out, started to the elevator. “Chu knew something, had known it for thirteen years. Or did something, and kept doing it. It may not play into this, but we can’t overlook it.”

“I got the data Roarke sent on the financials. The next bonus was due in January. Maybe they decided enough was enough.”

“Not impossible, but if you want to keep something quiet, you don’t go for the overkill. It’s not about money. People sure as hell kill for money,” Eve said as they stepped into the elevator. “But this isn’t that.”

“Chu pushed for more, or discovered his conscience about whatever he’s known or done for the thirteen years.”

“Again, not impossible. And not impossible the jacked-up part of it, if that’s part of it, played into the overkill.”

“So the key is, find out what he knew or did for thirteen years.”

“That’s affirmative.”

Eve didn’t bother to sigh when the elevator stopped, when the doors opened, when a pair of uniforms muscled in a woman, cuffed, who looked like she’d started her day with a rousing bar fight.

“That bitch deserved what I gave her, and you can’t say different. Cut in line,” she snapped at Eve, improbably red hair tousled into sweaty spikes, brown eyes—one blackened—firing fury. “Cut right in front of me. ‘In a hurry,’ she says to me. ‘You can wait,’ she says to me. ‘Bullshit,’ I say to her, but she plants herself, smirks like whatcha gonna do about it?

“I showed her what. Gave her a good shove. Sure, she popped me one, but I popped her harder, twice! And what does she do? Runs off, then these guys come and I don’t get to order my bagel and schmear.”

Since the improbable redhead carried at least an extra thirty pounds, Eve thought she could skip one bagel and schmear. But she sympathized with the dislike of line cutters and smirkers.

More shuffled on at the next stop, so the first trio shuffled back, putting Eve directly facing the woman in cuffs.

“You a cop or what?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then tell these dipshits to go after the one who started it, why doncha?”

“Did you get the other individual’s name?” she asked the uniforms.

“We got it, Lieutenant, and will follow up. Ms. Mortimer here made the first physical contact. Several witnesses.”

“She cut in line! She wouldn’t move, and she freaking smirked!”

“And proceeded to resist by jabbing elbows.”

“I was upset! She cut in line! She smirked. I didn’t get my bagel.”

Eve pulled some cash out of her pocket, handed it to one of the uniforms. “Send someone to get Ms. Mortimer a bagel. Although the incident may have been provoked, ma’am, shoving, then popping someone is still considered assault. I believe, if you cooperate with these officers, the situation can and will be resolved.”