“On which source?”
“I’ve focused more, for obvious reasons, on the source for Timothy Kruger’s payment, I’ll get you the other, but that’s my priority.”
“I don’t have a problem with that. I’m going to get dressed while it’s running. It’s going to source at Magdelana or connect to Joy Barrister.”
He turned. “The sister?”
“It’s what works. It’s not the wife. She benefits most financially, but she loved her husband, and it’s not about money.”
“Then what?”
She went into the closet. “Ego, power, anger, insult, greed. Pick one, maybe all. Would Magdelana work with someone in the house, the family?”
He came to the closet door. “Absolutely.”
“I can’t figure out how they linked up for this, but it’s a strong possibility. Hell, pick something.” She gestured to the clothes. “I don’t care. I just want to get started.”
“Will you confront her today, if she’s the source?”
“I’m going to find a way to confront whoever the source is.”
With a nod, he chose black trousers, a black leather jacket that would skim to her hips and had buttons of dull gold. A black vest with metallic gold pinstripes.
That worried her.
“Those stripes are shiny.”
“You said you didn’t care. Trust me.”
He chose a crisp white shirt, a black belt with a buckle in that same dull gold. Sturdy black boots with a side buckle.
Then, because he knew the cat, Roarke stepped out again to guard breakfast.
“The double-cross theory makes you think of the sister.”
“The data we have on Delaney has no mention of violence. Ever. She comes off smooth, and all the things you said before. Careful, professional in her questionable profession. She’s just collected the last payment on fifty million. Why’s she upset when she checks out of the hotel?”
He followed. “Because she’s heard the media reports. A murder at Barrister House.”
“And who’s going to be prime suspect? The thief. Now, she could’ve been upset because she killed a guy, but why does she stay after that final payment? Why does she get some sleep in New York instead of poofing?”
Oh yes, he followed very well.
“Because when she went to bed to get that sleep, she didn’t know there’d been a murder.”
Eve came out for her weapon harness. “That’s how I see it. And Ilooked back over the notes. There was a quick bump on the security. Like it flicks off, then on again. So my what-if? She does the job, out the window, and gone, unjams the security.”
“And someone else jams it again.” It played like music. “There was that quick, almost indecipherable blip on the system.”
“Right.” She sat, lifted a dome, and saw he’d gone with the all-American style. Bacon, eggs, toast, butter and jam, berries.
“You gave me a basic time frame for the job. But if you take out the time to open the vault—because she had the combo—that would put her back out a solid twenty minutes, and maybe more because, by all accounts, Delaney’s good. She’d be quick and clean. The glitch or bump came about thirteen minutes before TOD.”
“The sister.” Roarke sat beside her. “For the house, the business?”
“She doesn’t get the house, or more of the business. And that’s the thing. I’m wondering if it sticks in her craw that the son got the house, everything in it, a bigger share of the business. She’s the oldest, but he’s got the penis. Sure, she got plenty, but you look at the big picture. He got more. Was valued more.”
She shrugged as she ate. “Maybe she wanted to keep the stuff in the vault, got overruled. Maybe she didn’t. But all that, and the time they took to try to figure how to get it back? Gives her plenty of room to plan this out. Or to hook up with someone who can pull it off, leave her in the clear.”
