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

Christmas?”
    “Good. Caught the bad guy, opened presents, drank fancy champagne. You?”
    “I visited my parents Christmas Eve, stayed for the morning, and had dinner with Garnet DeWinter and her very charming daughter. A child adds sparkle, like champagne, to Christmas. How is your family, Peabody? You went home, I’m told.”
    “Great. It was totally mag to see everybody, and just dive into the chaos for a few hours.”
    “I know just what you mean. And let me say, that’s a very frosty coat.”
    “I know .” Despite Eve’s warning, Peabody stroked the sleeve again. “My amazing partner and her hunka-husband gave it to me for Christmas.”
    “Don’t make me regret it, Peabody.”
    “Best Christmas ever.”
    “And now we’re back,” Eve said, before they spent half a day talking plum pudding or whatever. “What can you tell me?” she asked, lifting her chin toward Leanore Bastwick.
    “A very healthy woman up until her death.” Morris moved over to the slab. “Some expert face and body work. Nothing extreme, what you might call tune-ups. Her last meal, consumed about four hours before her death, was Greek yogurt and granola.”
    “Now that’s sad,” Eve said to Peabody.
    “She’d had about a half a glass of wine within thirty minutes of death, so that’s a bit happier. No illegals in her system, and no sign she used them,” Morris added. “No defensive wounds, no signs of restraint or physical struggle.”
    He handed Eve microgoggles.
    “Stun marks, which would account for the lack of defensive wounds. Mid-body.”
    “Yeah, I see. Killer pulls the stunner out of the right coat pocket, moves into the apartment. She’s moving backward and to the side to let him in. Very close range, high power. So it left clear marks on her skin.”
    “A very slight contusion on the back of her head. She fell backward, banged it, but not violently. As with most on a stun, she probably more crumpled than fell after convulsing.”
    “What did she weigh?”
    Since it was Eve, Morris automatically converted from metric. “One-eighteen.”
    “Not heavy. She was wearing slipper-type things. Pull-on, elastic deals. I didn’t see any scuffing on the heels. Probably carried her into the bedroom. She’s stunned, out, limp. Haul her up, or toss her over the shoulder. Lay her out. The bed was tidy, so were her clothes.”
    “No sexual assault. No recent sexual activity.”
    “More sad,” Peabody murmured.
    “Lowers the odds on a boyfriend type, an ex, a wannabe lover,” Eve considered. “You’d expect some sexual assault there, or more personal signs in the kill.”
    “She’d opted for sterilization,” Morris commented. “Or I assume it was her option. Good, clean work. There’s no indication she’d ever borne a child. She tended to her body,” he continued. “The tune-ups, and her muscle tone speaks of regular exercise. As I said, no sign she abused illegals, or alcohol.”
    “That’s how she lived. How did she die?”
    “I concur with your on-scene. Strangulation. Thin, strong wire, piano wire would be my conclusion. A garrote. From behind.”
    Eve narrowed her eyes. “Not face-to-face.”
    “No. More leverage from behind, and the angle of the wound verifies. The killer got behind her, propped her up, nearly a sitting position, wrapped the wire around her neck, twisted, pulled. With some force, as it severed her larynx.”
    “Okay.” She didn’t doubt Morris, so now circled the body, pulled the scene into her head. “Dumps her on the bed. You’ve already taken off the coat – don’t want blood on the coat because you’ve got to wear it out again. And it’s bulky. You need some freedom of movement. Leave on the gloves or, no, take out others. Thin gloves now, or sealant. Maybe you’ve got a protective cape and gloves, a can of sealant in the box. Open the box, get out the cape, the gloves, put them on, get out the garrote.”
    “A protective cape, sealant, or gloves would cut down on