A chandelier made a waterfall of sparkling crystals.
“If the rest is like this,” McNab commented, “this is going to be quick.”
“Look for e’s. Jenkinson, you and Reineke start that way. Peabody and I’ll start this way.”
She found a powder room, obviously remodeled, the main suite, empty. It had a large closet/dressing room still being finished, and a large bathroom.
“Still tiling in here,” Peabody observed. “It’s a lot of tile. I guess it’s elegant, but strikes me as cold.”
“It takes cold to bash your own brother’s head in. Where’s her closet safe? She’d have one.”
“Maybe in storage like the rest of her stuff. It looks, to my eye, like they gutted this closet and started up a new design.”
“You’ve got the eye.”
Eve moved on, then angled her head at a locked door.
“Can’t master through that kind of interior lock,” Peabody pointed out.
“No, but I can pick it.” She’d brought her lockpicks, as she’d thought she might want them.
She was still working on the lock when Roarke started toward her. She hissed at him.
“I’ve got this.”
“I should hope so. We found the security hub. McNab’s having a look at it.”
“Any safe?”
“Not so far. The other side of the apartment is well under construction. They’re doing a good job of it. There’s a kitchen, a kind of morning room, formal dining, another powder room. A guest room with en suite. As there’s no home office on that side, I’m assuming you’re unlocking one.”
“Yeah, that’s my bet. And yes!”
She opened the door. Unlike the rest, Joy had kept it furnished, and had obviously decided not to include it in the remodel.
“Plenty of space. You can hit that desk unit, Roarke, and, Peabody, take the drawers in the desk. Little sitting area, but it looks like business in here. No fuss, no frills.”
She opened a door. Storage and a mini-AC and friggie. Across the room, she tried a second door. Locked.
She turned to see Roarke smile at her, said, “No.” And got out herpicks again. It took her longer, she accepted that, but she damn well wanted to do it herself.
“Got a locked drawer here, too,” Peabody told her.
“A lot of locks for a home office. Roarke, take care of that one.”
She tried to ignore the fact he took care of that one while she still struggled.
“Clone ’link, locked,” Peabody told her. “A small disc file, some cash, and how about a police-issue stunner?”
“How about that? Bag it all. We’ll take it in.”
And finally, she heard the lock give.
And there she found the safe. Floor to ceiling, as wide as the standard door.
“It’s another vault.”
“Not at all. A large safe,” Roarke said from behind her. “But given the spacing, only about eighteen inches deep. That’s a Crown safe, and that model? Hmm, twelve to fifteen years old.”
