Fantasy in Death by J. D. Robb Read Free Book Online Page A

means might be.
    She shuffled the thoughts back at the timid knock on the glass door. Overall Girl, she thought as she came in, who’d added red, weepy eyes to her ensemble.
    “They said I had to come up and talk with you ’cause somebody killed Bart. I wanna go home.”
    “Yeah, me, too. Sit down.”
    Halfway through her complement of interviews, Eve got her first buzz.
    Twenty-three-year-old Roland Chadwick couldn’t keep still—but e-jocks were notoriously jittery. His wet hazel eyes kept skittering away from hers. But it was a hard day, and some in the e-game had very limited social skills.
    Still, most of them didn’t have guilt rolling off their skin in thick, smelly waves.
    “How long have you worked here, Roland?”
    He scratched the long blade of his nose, bounced his knees. “Like I said, I interned for two summers in college, then I came on the roll when I graduated. So, like, a year on the roll, then the two summers before that. Altogether.”
    “And what do you do, exactly?”
    “Mostly research, like Benny. Like what’s out there, how can we twist it, jump it up. Or, like, if somebody’s got a zip on something, I cruise before we step so, like, we’re not hitting somebody else’s deal.”
    “So you see everything in development, or on the slate for development.”
    “Mostly, yeah.” He jiggled his shoulders, tapped both feet. “Bits and bytes anyhow, or, like, outlines. And you gotta check the titles, the character and place names and that jazz ’cause you don’t want repeats or crossovers. Unless you do, ’cause you’re, like, homage or sequel or series.”
    “And yesterday? Where were you?”
    “I was, like, here. Clocked at nine-three-oh, out at five. Or close. Maybe five-thirty? ’Cause I was buzzing with Jingle for a while after outs.”
    “Did you go out, for a break, for lunch, leave the building before you finished for the day?”
    “Not yesterday. Full plate. Yeah, full plate with second helpings.”
    “But you took breaks, had some lunch?”
    “Yeah, sure. Sure. Gotta fuel it up, charge it up. Sure.”
    “So, did you contact anybody? Tag a pal to pass the time with on a break?”
    “Ah...” His gaze skidded left. “I don’t know.”
    “Sure you do. And you can tell me or I’ll just find out when we check your comp, your ’links.”
    “Maybe I tagged Milt a couple times.”
    “And Milt is?”
    “Milt’s my... you know.”
    “Okay. Does Milt your You Know have a last name?”
    “Dubrosky. He’s Milton Dubrosky. It’s no big.” A little sweat popped out above his upper lip. “We’re allowed.”
    “Uh-huh.” She pulled out her PPC and started a run on Milton Dubrosky. “So you and Milt live together?”
    “Kinda. I mean, he still has a place but we’re mostly at mine. Mostly.”
    “And what does Milt do?”
    “He’s an actor. He’s really good. He’s working on his big break.”
    “I bet you help him with that? Help him study lines.”
    “Sure.” Shoulders jiggled again; toes tapped. “It’s fun. Kinda like working up a game.”
    “Being an actor, he probably has some good ideas, too. Does he help you out there?”
    “Maybe.”
    “Been together long?”
    “Nine months. Almost ten.”
    “How much have you told him about Fantastical?”
    Every ounce of color dropped out of his face, and for an instant, he was absolutely still. “What?”
    “How much, Roland? Those little bits and bytes, or more than that?”
    “I don’t know about anything like that.”
    “The new project? The big top secret? I think you know something about it. You’re in research.”
    “I just know what they tell me. We’re not allowed to talk about it. We had to sign the gag.”
    Eve kept an easy smile on her face, and a hard hammer in her heart. “But you and Milt are, you know, and you help each other out. He’s interested in what you do, right?”
    “Sure, but—”
    “And a big project like this, it’s exciting. Anybody’d mention it to their