He gave her an easy smile. “Smooth as ever.”

“I was hoping to surprise you, but wanted to prepare for it, set the stage. Tell me, does your relationship with your wife afford you any freedom?”

He understood the question and the very open invitation under it. Nor could he misunderstand the hand she’d laid lightly on his thigh.

“I don’t equate marriage with prison, but see it as a promise. A maze of them. I take promises very seriously.”

“Still…” She touched the tip of her tongue to her top lip. “If promises aren’t flexible, they’re more easy to break.”

There was a challenge in her eyes, and the come-on-let’s-play laughter along with it. He’d found the combination all but irresistible once. “Bending them only changes them into something they weren’t meant to be in the first place. You should know, Maggie, before you say or do anything that would embarrass you, that I’m completely in love with my wife.”

She stared at him for a moment, intensely, as if trying to see the con. Slowly, deliberately, she lifted her hand from his thigh, set it back on the table. “I assumed you had some angle for aligning yourself with a cop.”

“If you knew her, you’d understand Eve is no one’s mark. Regardless, I wouldn’t betray her for anything. Or anyone.”

“Well…” Then she gave that pretty shrug again, that quick and wicked smile. “No harm in trying.”

It was best, he decided, to table that area of conversation. “How long do you plan to be in New York?”

“It depends. You might help me with that.” When he raised a brow, she laughed. “That’s not a proposition, lover. I’d hoped to ask for your advice. Investment advice.”

“I’d think you’d have your own people for that.”

“Georges’s people-and however civil we are, it’s delicate. I have a very nice cushion of disposable income. Unreported assets. I’d as soon not involve Georges’s very efficient and by-the-book advisers in my investments. But an old, trusted friend who’s considerably skilled in this sort of thing. You’re the one who taught me, long ago, the value of…cushions. I was thinking real estate, tucking it under a few layers to avoid the tax dogs.”

“Are you looking for additional income, turning a profit, or sheltering your cushion?”

“All, if I can manage it.”

“How soft is this cushion?”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes danced. “About fifteen that’s tucked-deeply-away. I was fond of Andre and of Georges, as I said, and enjoyed the lifestyles we shared. But I never expected it to last forever in either case. I juggled a bit here and there along the way. And I have some jewelry that doesn’t really suit me. I’d like to turn that liquid. Discreetly.”

“You’d want property in New York?”

“That would be my first choice, unless you’ve a better suggestion.”

“I’ll think about it. I’ll be able to give you some options, Maggie, but you’ll have to create those layers yourself. I can point you in the right direction, and to the right people. That’s all I can do.”

“That would be more than enough.” Her hand touched his arm again, rubbed up and down. “I appreciate it. I’m staying at Franklin ’s pied-à-terre for the time being. I’ll give you the address, and my contact numbers.”

“Enjoying the benefits of companionship with a wealthy, older man?”

She forked up salad, flashed a grin. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Eve located a single plant in New Jersey that processed castor oil. It was worth the trip, she decided, particularly since she felt cooped up in her office.

Along the way, Peabody caught her up with her own investigative results. “I ran the names of parents or child-care providers who signed in yesterday. Shuffled down the list those who had confirmed appointments with faculty members, and those who signed in and out during the times the vic was known to be in his classroom. Leaves us four potentials.”

“Do any of them connect to Foster?’

“Two had kids in his classes this term. I wanted to check, see if either kid had trouble there, academically, or discipline problems. But Principal Mosebly’s being pissy about sharing the records.”

“Is she really?” The idea gave Eve something like a warm glow. “It’ll be a pleasure to take her down on that. I’ll get a warrant.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

“Of the other two, one got a knock for assault a couple years ago. She went after some guy with a baseball bat at a Little League game. Broke his shoulder.”

“There’s team spirit.”

“She got off with community service and anger management, paying his medical bills. The guy sued her,” Peabody added, “settling out of court for an undisclosed amount. Want me to get more details on that?”

“We’ll ask her personally.”

“Hallie Wentz, single, one female child, age eight, Emily. Hallie’s a party planner.”

“They pay people to plan parties. I don’t get it. If you’re bound and determined to have a party, how much of a deal is it to have one?”

“Three words: Mavis’s baby shower.”

Eve tried not to squirm. “That went okay.”

“That went uptown because you had somebody, that would be me, handling the details.”

“And did I pay you?”

Peabody frowned, scratched her jaw. “I am forced to say: Touché. ”

“Nobody should be forced to saytouché. ”

“Feeling better?”

“Than what?” Eve countered as she slipped off the turnpike.

“Than you were this morning.”

“I was just having a thing, mostly in my head.” That’s what she’d decided. “Finished with it now.”

It had been stupid, and embarrassinglyfemale, to get worked up over some blonde in a red dress. They’d have had lunch by now, she calculated, and he’d be back in his office taking his next meeting to plan global financial domination.

Back to normal. And that was that.

It barely took any effort to put it out of her mind, again, as they badged plant security and waited for clearance. And the manager.

She was a peppy little thing, all of four feet ten in her work boots. She had a wide smile and sparkling eyes that made Eve wonder what she’d consumed during her last break.

“Stella Burgess, nice to meetcha. Something I can help you with?”

New Jersey was as deep as the Hudson in her voice as she beamed welcome and cooperation.

“You process castor beans at this facility.”

“Sure do. We process a variety of agricultural products for nonconsumptive use. Your castor oil’s used in some industries as a lubricant. Not so much in the U.S. of A., but we export. It’s also used in the preparation of leather goods. We export that, too, and ship directly to certified clients nationally. You want to see the processing operation?”

“Probably not. Do you have accounts for the oil in New York?”

“I sure can check on that for you, Lieutenant. That’d likely be for artisans, craftsman, and like that there, ones who like to use natural products only. You want I should get you a list?”

“Yeah, I want you should. As soon as you tell me why you’re handing all that over with a smile.”

“’Scuze?”

“You don’t ask questions, Stella. You don’t do any dance about privacy of accounts. Just sure, here are the names.”

Stella flashed her teeth again. “Yeah, sure. I got the memo.”

“What memo would that be?”

“From the top dog. It got sent out first of the year. Full cooperation from all managers, department heads, supervisors, and yadda-yadda is expected to be given to Lieutenant Eve Dallas if and when she has occasion to request information or services. Right?”

“Right. I’ll need an employee roster, too. Current, and back the last six months.”

“You got it.” Stella pointed her index finger, thumb cocked. “Give me five, okay?”

“Sure.”

As they waited, Peabody cast her eyes to the ceiling and whistled a tune.

“Shut up, Peabody.”

“I’m just wondering what it’s like to be married to a guy who owns so many things you don’t know the half of them.” Then she gave Eve an elbow nudge. “He sent out a memo.”