“Already well-earned,” Roarke said.
“I ain’t complaining.” Feeney walked over and helped himself.
“How did you get lucky, genius?”
“I know someone—Brian—who knows someone who knows someone else who wasn’t averse to a bribe, and who happened to have the means to send us a scan of the invitation. It’s quite elegant.”
“That works. That works really well.”
“So we thought. Have a cinnamon roll.”
She had half a cinnamon roll because Willowby had it right. Who could or would say no? But she wanted to keep herself light and ready.
As she ate, she studied the images of the venue easily found on the website. An elegant two-story brick with thick white columns flanking the entrance. Lots of tall windows.
Inside, the entrance hall, the ballroom—main event space—the anterooms, the bar area, main-level johns.
Up a sweep of stairs to the bedrooms, sitting rooms, bathrooms. She took note of entrances, exits, the grounds—a good-sized pond, plenty of trees, lots of parking, gardens, walkways.
An outdoor swimming pool, and pool house. Large patio area, several terraces. All of it gated—with a gatehouse at the main entrance to the estate.
As the team filtered in and descended like locusts on the rolls, on the coffee, she studied the blueprints.
Kitchen area, office areas, storage, security station, all below the main.
“Big place,” she muttered.
“Yeah, about fifteen thousand square feet.” Feeney took another hefty bite of his roll. “Was some bigwig’s place back last century. They turned it into the fancy, high-dollar event space about fifty years ago.”
He took a swig of coffee. “You know, kid, these people are arrogant sons of bitches, throwing a damn party with your cocktails and your canapés.”
“Arrogance is part of the reason. Arrogance, ego, greed, and payback.”
“You got who hired the one tried to put a hole in you?”
“Yeah, or I will. She’s the easy part.”
Abernathy arrived, shot Eve a hard look. “So much for cooperation.”
“That’s why we’re here. I got the blonde’s face and ID last night, got the call from the lawyer first thing this morning. Specifically for me and the prosecutor’s office or no meet. I called for this briefing as soon as I had the information.”
“And your prosecutor has tied Interpol’s hands regarding the thief.”
“Do you want the thief or the emeralds?”
“Both.”
“She could’ve poofed, Abernathy. We might not have ever laid a finger on her. She learned about Barrister’s murder, and she stood up. These people set her up for it, and she’s helped us, in ways I’ll soon relate, pinpoint who ran the show, who killed Barrister, and who hired some asshole to kill me on the street.”
“I only heard about that attempt on you shortly ago. I’m very glad he didn’t succeed, but—”
“There’s no but. Everyone’s going to get what they need. We’ve got the venue—and that’s as of ten minutes ago.”
“You have it?”
“Just, and we know it’s tonight. Since I don’t want to go over this a half dozen times, grab a pastry and take a seat.”
“I know the blonde, Magdelana Percell, is a former associate of Roarke’s.”
