Reunion in Death

«Maybe, but I'm more confident I can outrun you in your current state of health.» She held up two fingers. «How many do you see?»

«The two I'm going to rip off and stuff in your ears.»

«Oddly, it reassures me to hear that, Lieutenant.»

With a sigh, Eve pushed herself out of the car. The noise screaming out of the hangar lanced straight through her skull. Hoping to avoid going in and having her head fall off, she signalled to a woman wearing coveralls emblazoned with Diamond's logo.

«I'm looking for Pilot Riggs,» Eve shouted. «Mason Riggs.»

«That's his shuttle getting its weekly maintenance.» The woman jerked a thumb toward the mouth of the hangar. «He's either in there guarding his baby or in the break room.»

«Where's the break room?»

«Second door down on the left. Sorry, but the hangar and the break room are employees-only areas. You want I can page him for you.»

Eve pulled out her badge. «I'll just page him with this. Okay?»

«Sure.» The woman held up her gloved hands, palms out. «Wouldn't go in there without ear protectors. Against safety regs.» She flipped up the top on a crate, brought out two clunky sets. «It's murder without them.»

«Thanks.» Eve fit them on and immediately felt relief from the shrieking noise.

She headed inside. The hangar held three shuttles at the moment, each covered with a swarm of mechanics who were either wielding complicated-looking tools or holding conversations in sign language.

She spotted two uniformed pilots, one male, one female, and crossed into the heart of the hangar. The noise was like a whooshing wave through the ear protectors, and there was a smell of fuel, of grease, and someone's spicy meatball sandwich.

The latter made her stomach sit up and beg. She had a weakness for meatballs.

She tapped the male pilot on the shoulder. He was vid-star handsome, with the caramel-colored skin of a mixed-race heritage smooth and tight over sharp bones.

«Riggs?» She mouthed it slowly, then offered her badge when he nodded. At his polite yet baffled look, she gestured toward the break room.

He didn't look pleased, but he crossed the hangar quickly, coded in at the door, then yanked it open. The minute he was inside he pulled tiny protectors out of his ears, tossed them in a container.

«That's my shuttle. I've got to put it through its safety tests in twenty minutes. I've got a run.»

Eve pulled off her own protectors. She hadn't heard a word he'd said, but she got the point. He lifted his brow at the condition of her face.

«Run into a door, Lieutenant?»

«I was just waiting for that one.»

«Looks painful. So. What's the problem?»

«You had a private shuttle run last night, to Denver, return this morning. Juliet Darcy.»

«I can verify the trip, but I can't discuss clients. That's a privacy issue.»

«You don't want to go all regulation on me here, Riggs, or you're not going to make your next run.»

«Look, lady-«

«I'm not a lady, I'm a cop. And this is a police investigation. Your client went to Denver last night, ordered herself a nice late supper from room service, probably got a good night's sleep. This morning she killed a man named Spencer Campbell in her hotel room, took a cab back to the airport, hopped on your shuttle at which time you returned her to New York.»

«She she killed somebody? Ms. Darcy? You can't be serious.»

«You want to see how serious I am? We can take this down to Central.»

«But she … I want to sit down.» He did so, dropping into a wide black chair. «I think you must have the wrong woman. Ms. Darcy was charming and refined. She was just in Denver overnight to attend a charity function.»

Eve held out a hand. Peabody slapped a photo into it. «Is this the woman you know as Juliet Darcy?»

It was a still taken from the disc found in Daily Enterprises and one that matched the image sent by hotel security.

«Yes, that's … Jesus Christ.» He took off his cap, raked his fingers through his hair. «This shakes you up.»

«I'm sure Spencer Campbell feels the same way.» Eve took a seat. «Tell me about the trip.»

Once he'd decided to cooperate, she couldn't have stopped him with a laser blast. He paged the flight attendant to fill in any blanks and as a result Eve was given a full account of the round trip.

«She was extremely polite.» Riggs downed his second cup of coffee. «But friendly. I'd noted by the log that she'd insisted on being a solo. No other passengers coming or going. When she boarded, I thought she looked like someone famous. We get a lot of celebs, and minor celebs, who insist on solos but who don't want the trouble and expense of housing and maintaining a private transpo.»

«I didn't think she was friendly.» The attendant, Lydia, sipped bottled water. She was already dressed for her flight, perfectly groomed in a navy jumpsuit with a military touch of gold braid.

«What did you think she was?» Eve countered.