Page 70 of Fury In Death

“Can’t argue there. You know, Dallas, even if the sister knows where he is, she might not believe he’s killed two people.”

“Then we’ll convince her.”

She stopped to take another look at the townhouse. Good security. Roarke’s again, no surprise for an employee. Not top-of-the-line, but a good middle ground. The door painted a deep navy stood up a short three steps with a small landing.

It held a wreath of autumn leaves.

Eve walked up, pressed the buzzer.

A woman with a long tail of pale blond hair, blue eyes hinting of gray, a black shirt and pants over a slender build answered.

Behind her a couple of kid voices rang.

“You did it.”

“No, you.”

“Nuh-uh, you!”

“One second,” the woman said, and turned. “Knock it off, or I’ll be the one who does it. And you won’t like it. Sorry, Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody. Come in. Kids just home from school. If you’ll give me a minute to settle things down?”

“Sure.”

It was one of those homes where furniture served as dividers rather than walls. Eve could see straight through the living area, past arrow-straight stairs, to the dining area, the kitchen with a more casual dining section, and a second living space.

A pair of kids, hair as dark as their mother’s was light, sat at an island munching crackers and what looked like apple slices.

They swiveled around on their stools to stare. Not identical, she noted—something that always struck her as seriously spooky. But certainly sharing enough in the coloring, facial structure, and size to be easily identified as siblings.

“I need to talk to these ladies, so you two can get a quick start on your homework.”

“We’re having our snack,” the girl said.

“You can take it with you.”

“We’re not allowed to have snacks on our desks.”

“I’m making an exception.” She kissed them each on the top of the head. “Scram.”

They scrammed with their snacks, including little juice tubes into an area Eve saw as a kind of playroom with two matching desks. And glass pocket doors their mother closed behind them.

“Behave,” she added.

She turned back, smiled. “It takes about twenty minutes, on average, for them to work off the school day. My husband and I juggle the after-school madness, and it’s my day for it. Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, water, juice tubes?”

“We’re good, thanks. We appreciate you making time for us.”

“Roarke wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Hector and I read both books, and saw the vid on one of our precious date nights.”

She moved back to the front room as she spoke. “Please sit. Since I know who you are, I assume this has something to do with a homicide investigation. And assuming that, I’m baffled.”

“Did you know Lawrence Chu, Ezra Dent?”

“Those murders. I heard about them. No, not really. I must have met them at Ariana and Luke’s memorial. I’d been working in eastern Europe for nearly a year. When that horrible thing happened, I came back. I must have met them, but it’s a blur. I know they worked for Banner-Wyst, and there were so many people there from Steve’s workplace.”

“What do you know about your brother’s work?”

“Not much of anything, really. Both of us worked—I still do—in sensitive areas. We talked, of course. But in generalities.”