EVE RELAYED THE NEW DATA TO THE TEAM AT Central, and ordered Ariel’s electronics picked up. Riding on the fresh spurt1 of adrenaline, she turned to Roarke. “We’ve got a jump on him.”
Roarke continued to study the little screen with its images of wedding cakes and cost projections2. “From the glass-half-empty side, it seems he’s gotten the jump on us.”
“That’s wrong thinking. We’re moving on a lead we didn’t have before this investigation3. And we’re moving in the right direction. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have known, not for hours—potentially days—that Greenfeld was missing. We wouldn’t know how he pulled her in.”
“And how does that help her, Eve?”
“Everything we know gives her a better chance of making it through. We know he’s had her about five hours. We have to assume he’s frequented the store where she worked, and contacted her by some method. Five hours, Roarke,” she repeated. “He hasn’t done anything to her yet. Probably has her sedated5. He won’t start on her until he’s…”
He looked up then, eyes frigid6. “Until he’s finished with Gia Rossi. Until he’s done cutting and carving7 on her.”
“That’s right.” No way to soften8 it, Eve thought. No point in trying. “And until we find Rossi’s body, she’s alive. Until we find her body, she’s got a chance. Now, with this, she has a better one. We canvass9, we check parking lots, we check public transpo. We talk to her coworkers, her other friends. We have his age, his body type. We didn’t have any of that twenty-four hours ago.”
She stepped to him, touched his arm. “Make a copy of that program, will you? We’ll work this from home. Maybe something will shake loose on the search Summerset’s been running, or on the real estate angle. Something’s going to click into place.”
“All right. But neither of us is working on this until we’ve stepped back for a couple hours. I mean it, Eve,” he said before she could protest. “You ordered your team to take some downtime for good reason.”
“I could use a shower,” she said after a moment. “An hour. Compromise.” She held up a hand, held him off. “You’ve got to admit it beats fighting about it for half that downtime.”
“Agreed.” He copied the data, handed her the disc.
Since she didn’t consider the drive home part of the break, she let Roarke take the wheel and shuffled10 through her notes, the timelines, the names, the statements.
He’d taken the third target sooner than projected, Eve mused11. Two reasons she could think of for that. Either the earlier snatch suited his personal schedule or the target’s. Or Gia Rossi wasn’t holding up well.
She could already be dead—a possibility Eve saw no reason to share with Roarke.
Hours, she thought. If the contact had been made hours sooner, they would have found Ariel Greenfeld before he had her. The right question, the right time. Not only would the woman have been safe, but they’d have had solid data on the suspect.
Off at four, she noted12. Planned to make dinner for her neighbor. So, she’d planned to be home from this outside appointment in two or three hours, most likely.
“How long would you budget for a meeting?” Eve asked. “For going over a proposal for wedding cakes and desserts, that sort of thing?”
“From her end?” Roarke considered. “She put together a lot of images, a number of variations of style and type, flavors. A great deal of trouble. I’d guess she’d prepared for a couple of hours. If she assumed—correctly—that many people take every detail of a wedding very seriously, she would have been prepared to give the potential client all the time he needed or wanted.”
“Okay, let’s say two, so that makes it eighteen hundred not including travel time. She tells the guy across the hall she’s going to pick up a few things on the way home to make—actually cook—a meal. That’s got to take some time. The shopping part, the cooking part. Probably, what, an hour?”
“Your guess.” Roarke shrugged13. “Summerset would know better.”
“Yeah, well, until we consult His Boniness, I’m figuring an hour. Which puts it at nineteen hundred, again without travel. Late night Saturday, long day Sunday, early to work on Monday. I don’t figure she was prepping a late meal.”
“And what does that tell you?”
“It tells me that, most likely, as far as she knew, she wasn’t going that far for this meeting. Not across the river into Jersey14, probably not across the bridge into Brooklyn or Queens. Too much bridge-and-tunnel traffic. Probability is higher he’s in Manhattan. Narrows the search.”
Eve shifted. “She’s tossing a meal together for a friend, not planning a fancy deal for a lover. Just a pal15, one she’s hoping she can share this good news with if she copped the job. Picking up a few things on the way home. That says she planned to get herself home. Public transportation or on foot. So she can stop by the market. Decent chance he’s downtown, at least not above midtown.”
She sat back. “Focus there to start. Fan out, sure, but we start there, focus there.”
She worked the problem the rest of the way home, adding in factors, playing with angles. Urban Wars, body ID method, Lower West or East Side clinics.
He almost certainly had some sort of transportation, but it would also serve if he could stalk any or all of his victims on foot.
People tended to shop and frequent restaurants in their comfort-zone. The soap and shampoo—downtown store was very likely the source unless he web-shopped or brought it into New York with him. Starlight was in Chelsea, the bakery downtown, the first dumping spot in this round on the Lower East. Gia Rossi worked midtown.
Maybe he wasn’t traveling far from home this time around.
Maybe.
She plugged her knowns and unknowns into her PPC, intending to transfer the information to her desk unit and run probabilities.
“I want whatever Summerset’s worked up on disc and on my unit,” she began as they drove through the gates. “We can get his take on the timing16 as far as shopping/cooking, but I want to check out what markets and stores Greenfeld most usually frequented. And other specialty17 places below Fiftieth. The way her neighbor talked, she’d have gotten a charge out of wandering some new food place. We’ll interview the others she went out with Saturday night. Maybe she let something slip about her Sunday plans.”
They got out on opposite sides of the car, but Roarke put a hand on her arm when they reached the base of the steps of home. “You never thought there was a chance for Rossi.”
“I never said that, and there’s always a chance.”
“Slim to none. It didn’t stop you pushing—hard and in every way you could push, but you knew her chances were all but nil18, and on some level accepted it.”
“Listen—”
“No, don’t misunderstand me. That’s not a criticism. It’s a small, personal revelation that came to me on the way home. Watching you work, listening to you even when you weren’t speaking. Your mind says volumes. You don’t feel the same way about Ariel Greenfeld.”
He slid his hand down her arm until he found hers, linked fingers. “You believe there’s a real chance now. Not only in finding him, stopping him. That you have to believe every minute or you’d never be able to do what you do. But you believe you’ll find him, stop him before it’s too late for this woman, and because of it Gia Rossi’s chances have gone up from slim to none to slim. It has to energize19 you, and at the same time, it must weigh all the heavier. They have a chance. You’re their chance.”
“We,” Eve corrected. “Everyone working the case is their chance. And we’d better not let her down.”
She expected Summerset to materialize in the foyer and intended to have Roarke take point with him. But the minute they stepped in, she heard laughter in the parlor20, and the bubbling sound of it was unmistakable.
“Mavis is here.”
“There’s your hour of downtime.” Roarke slipped Eve’s coat from her shoulders. “Difficult to find a more entertaining or distracting way to rest the brain cells than a portion of Mavis Freestone.”
It was tough to argue the point. But when Eve stepped to the parlor doorway21, she saw Mavis had brought Trina along. If that wasn’t scary enough, they’d hauled the baby out for the evening.
Most terrifying, at the moment, the infant Belle22 was being held by Summerset, and having her chin chucked by his skeletal fingers.
“I’m traumatized,” Eve stated. “He’s not supposed to smile like that. It’s against the laws of man and nature.”
“Don’t be such a hard-ass.” Roarke gave her a little poke23 in the ribs24. “Ladies,” he said in normal tones, and had the group looking over.
“Hey!” Mavis’s already glowing face brightened. “You’re back! We were about to head out, but Bella wanted another Summerset smoochie.”
Which, to Eve’s mind, confirmed the innate25 oddity of babies and kids.
Mavis bounced over, sending the short, flirty26 skirt she wore swirling27 over polka-dot tights. The skirt was candy pink, the tights pink on brilliant blue. She’d gone for the blue in her hair, too, Eve noted, in a few wild streaks28 against silvery blond.
She grabbed one of Roarke’s hands, one of Eve’s, and pulled them into the room. “Leonardo had to shoot out to New L.A. for a client, so Trina and Belle and I had a total girl day. Ended it with some Summerset time. Look who’s here, Belle. Look who came to see you.”
With little choice Eve looked down at the baby still tucked in Summerset’s arms. Most, Eve supposed, would say the kid looked like a doll. But to Eve’s way of thinking, dolls were just creepy.
The fact was, the baby was a knockout—if you discounted the drool—pink, pretty, and plump. A lacy white ribbon was tied around her hair, as if she’d been wrapped like a gift. The dark blue eyes were lively, maybe a little too lively. They made Eve wonder just what went on inside the brain of a human the size of a teacup poodle.
She wore some sort of outfit29 with feet and a kind of sweater deal over it that may have been trimmed in actual fur. Over it all there was a bib—due, Eve supposed, to drool—that proclaimed:
MY DADDY IS ICED!
“Cute,” Eve said and would have stepped back, but Roarke blocked her as he studied the baby over Eve’s shoulder.
“I think gorgeous is more accurate. What nice work you do, Mavis.”
“Thanks.” The former street urchin31 and current music vid sensation stared down at her daughter with sparkling eyes of unearthly blue. “Sometimes I look at her and just can’t believe she came out of me.”
“Do you have to bring up that part of it?” Eve asked and made Mavis laugh again.
“Maybe we could hang a little while more, unless you’re too tired. You guys look pretty whipped.”
“Could use a treatment,” Trina commented.
“Stay away from me.” Eve jabbed a finger in the consultant’s direction.
“We could use a meal.” Roarke smiled at their guests. “Why don’t you join us?”
“Summerset already fed us until we popped, but we could stick, keep you company. It’s off knowing our big daddy won’t be home when we get there, isn’t it, Bellarama?”
“I’ll prepare something right away.”
Eve saw Summerset shift and—anticipating—was quick and cowardly. She sidestepped, hip-bumped Roarke, leaving him in the line of fire.
She loved her man, would unquestionably risk her life for his. But when it came to babies, he could sink. She was swimming.
His arms came out instinctively32, as a man’s might when something fragile or potentially explosive was about to be dropped into them. “I don’t…I should…Oh, well then,” he muttered as Summerset deftly33 made the transfer.
“Is there anything in particular you’d like?” The faintest wisp of a smile touched Summerset’s lips as Roarke’s eyes burned a hole through him. “For supper?”
“Something quick,” Roarke managed. He’d once diffused34 a bomb with seconds to spare, and had felt less panic.
“I was hoping to see you.” Mavis beamed at him, then dropped into a chair, leaving Roarke standing35 on what felt like very unsteady ground. “Just about dropped all the belly36 weight now, and got the full-steam from the docs. I’ve got a boat of new material, so I thought I could get in the studio, rock it out, cut some vids.”
“Yes. That sounds…all right.”
“Mag. I figured to bring Bella in with me. She’s completely about music. If it doesn’t work, Leonardo and I’ll figure something.”
“Doesn’t want a nanny,” Trina commented.
“Not yet anyway. I just want her to be all mine right now. Mine and her daddy’s. But I’ve got the itch37 to get back to work, so I want to see if I can do it on my own.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Roarke glanced down at the baby and saw Belle’s eyes were drooping38. As if the thick, dark lashes39 were too heavy for the delicate lids to hold. “She’s going to sleep.” His own lips curved as what he held went from being mildly terrifying to quietly sweet. “Worn out from all the partying, are you now? Is there something I should do?”
“You’re doing it,” Mavis told him. “But we’ll put her down. There’s a monitor in her travel bed.” Mavis rose. “Receiver right here.” She tapped a flamingo-shaped pin just above her right ear. “Just lay her right in here. If she wakes up a little, you just pat her belly for a minute. She conks.”
It was something like a small, portable sleep chair, Roarke noted, well padded in Mavis’s—or Bella’s, he supposed—signature rainbow hue40. Though setting her down in it seemed fairly straightforward41, he actually felt sweat pool at the base of his spine42.
When she was down, and he straightened, the relief and satisfaction was very nearly orgasmic.
Mavis crouched43, fussed with the blanket. “She’ll be fine right here, won’t you, my baby girl?”
“The cat. Isn’t there something about cats and babies?”
Mavis smiled up at Roarke. “I think it’s bogus, but anyway, Galahad’s scared of her. He took one look and lit. If he comes snooping around her, I’ll hear it. I can actually hear her breathing through the receiver.”
After giving the blanket one last fiddle44, Mavis stood. “You should eat in the dining room like we did. There’s a nice fire in there, too. You’ll relax more. You guys really do look wrung45. We won’t stay long.”
“We’re taking an hour down.” Now that all danger of being expected to hold the baby had passed, Eve moved back to Roarke. “Let’s go eat.”
They settled in the dining room where the fire roared and a dozen candles were lit. To give Summerset his due, he’d managed quick and tasty. There were thin slices of roast chicken in some sort of fragrant46 sauce, fancy potatoes, and something that might have been squash but was prepared so it wasn’t really objectionable.
He served Trina a glass of wine, and Mavis something rose-colored and frothy with a plate of thin cookies and fancy chocolates.
“I come around here too often, I’ll be back to belly weight.” Mavis picked up a chocolate. “Nursing makes me nearly as hungry as pregnancy47 did.”
“No breast milk at the table,” Eve warned her. “So to speak.”
“I sort of carry it everywhere.” But Mavis grinned. “You can talk about the case. You’re going to think about it anyway. We heard about it on screen. I remember when this guy was around before. I was on the grift then. All the girls on the street were scared all the time.”
“You were too young for him then.”
“Maybe, but it was scary. Trina and I both went way far from brunette last night during our hair party. Just, you know, in case.”
Eve eyed Mavis’s silver and blue streaks, then Trina’s flame red tower of curls. “Yeah, you’re not his type.”
“Glad to hear. How’s it going, anyway? Everything’s dire4 on screen.”
“We’ve got some buttons to push.”
“I was doing hair at Channel Seventy-five yesterday.” Trina studied the cookies narrowly, picked one. “On-air reporter was trying to make my celeb, you know? Spouting48 and such. He gave her some gory49 on the case to impress her, and said the police were stymied50.”
“Reporters are mostly assholes.”
“Lot of them say the same about cops.” Trina smiled. “I think it’s pretty much fifty-fifty. Anyway, it was the buzz in the salon51 yesterday, and we had the chairs full of women ditching their brunette.”
Eve forked up some chicken. “You’re still working the salon route?” she considered. “I thought you were on Nadine’s show, and working private.”
“You get private through the salon if you know how to play it. Plus, Roarke set me up pretty.”
“To what?”
“Trina manages the salon section of Bliss52, the downtown spa,” Roarke explained. “An excellent choice on my part.”
“You got that.” Trina toasted him. “Business is up seven percent since I took over.”
“Your operators take private?” Eve asked her.
“It’s against policy.” Trina wiggled her dramatic eyebrows54 at Roarke as she sipped55 her wine. “Private means they don’t come in, the salon and spa don’t get the business. And they don’t drop impulse dough56. But let’s get real. A customer asks—they’re called consultants57, by the way—to do a house gig, they’re not going to say no unless they don’t want the job.”
“I’m looking for a man about seventy, short, pudgy.”
“We get that type, sure. Policy is to tactfully steer58 the pudge part into our spa or the body sculpting59 section. Barring, we talk up the fitness centers, and—”
“I’m talking specifically,” Eve interrupted. “A man of that basic type coming in, feeling out one of the consultants for a private. Within the last, let’s say, two months.”
“Lotta room, Dallas,” Trina said. “We get a lot of traffic, and being manager, most of the consultants aren’t going to mention a private to me, unless it’s sanctioned.”
“Sanctioned how?”
“Like we send teams or a solo in for special occasions, and the salon takes the big cut.”
“Long shot,” Eve muttered.
“But come to think of it, I had somebody like that. I guess.”
Eve set down her fork. “You guess or you had one?”
“Look, like I said, we get a lot of traffic. People tap me for private most every day. What’s the big…Oh, hey, hey!” Her wine sloshed toward the rim30 as she hastily set the glass down. “Is this the guy? Is this the fucking guy? Holy shit storm.”
“Just tell me what you remember.”
“Okay, Jesus, let me clear the decks.” Trina closed her eyes, sucked air through her nose several times. “This guy…walk-in. Manicure, I’m thinking. Don’t remember who had him. I’m thinking it was a Saturday afternoon, and we’re busting60 on Saturday afternoons. He waited a long time for the nail job, wandered over into the retail61 section. I think. I was busy. I just remember catching62 sight of him a few times. Then I took my break, went into the bar for a smoothie. Maybe a fizzy. No, it was a smoothie.”
“Trina, I don’t care what you had to drink.”
“I’m getting the picture.” Her eyes flashed open. “You want the picture, I need to get it first. So it was a smoothie. A banana-almond smoothie. We make killers63. And he comes up, real polite. ‘Excuse me, Miss,’ like that. He noticed I was in charge, and since he’d had to wait awhile he’d noticed, too, how skilled I was.”
She smiled to herself. “So I didn’t tell him to flip64, that I was on a break. He wanted to know how to arrange an at-home appointment. Not for him, though, not for him, wait a minute.”
Frowning, she picked up her wine, sipped again while Eve struggled not to just leap up and pound the rest of the details out of her.
“His wife? Yeah, yeah, yeah, at-home for his wife. She wasn’t well, and how he thought it would make her feel better to have her hair done, maybe a facial, a mani, pedi, like that. A package treatment.”
“Trina—”
“Wait a damn minute. Let me get a fix on it. I’m telling him how we arrange this, the fees, and so on, and he’s wondering if I’d consider doing this on my day off. So I wouldn’t have to rush back to work, but could give his wife as much time as she wanted. Whenever it suited me. He even showed me a picture of the wife. He’d be happy to pay whatever I think appropriate.”
“Did he give you an address?”
“You keep interrupting.” Obviously annoyed, Trina opened her eyes again. “No. I said how I’d need to check my book. So I did, taking my time, thinking it over. Even the older guys can be stringing you, you know? I was booked up for a while. I think I gave him a couple possible dates. A couple of weeks down the road. He said he’d check the dates out with his wife’s nurse, see which she thought would work best. He asked if I had a card, so he could contact me. I gave him one. And that was it.”
“He didn’t get back to you?”
“Nope. I thought maybe I saw him about a week later. Somewhere. Where was it? Oh, yeah, in this bar where I was having drinks with this guy I was thinking of doing. But I figured, nah. Not the kind of joint65 you see a suit with a sick wife.”
“He give you a name?”
“Maybe. I don’t remember. If I can pin down the mani he got, we’d have it on the books. First name anyhow. Is this the guy?”
Don’t rush it, Eve thought. Dot the i’s. “What color was your hair?”
“You gotta be kidding. It was, like, a month ago. Yeah, a month, like the first Saturday in February, because I remember thinking if we did business like that through the month, I was going to ask for a raise. We did, I did. And hey, thanks again,” she said to Roarke.
“Caramel Mocha,” Mavis murmured. “With Starfish highlights.”
“Yeah?” Trina turned to her. “You sure?”
“You did me Starfish with Candyland tips.” Mavis’s hand trembled a little as she reached for her glass. “I’ve got a memory for this stuff. Oh, wow. Oh, wow. I think I feel a little sick.”
“You? I’m the one he was planning to torture and kill. I think I feel…” Trina pressed a hand to her belly, then squinted66 out of slitted eyes. “Pissed. That’s what I feel. That son of a bitch. Sick wife? Pay me whatever. He was going to kill me.” She picked up her wine, guzzled67 it. “Why didn’t he?”
“You changed it.” Mavis took slow, deep breaths. “You didn’t stick with that shade even a week. You went straight to Wild Raven68 with Snow Cap streaks.”
“Just back up,” Eve demanded. “This mocha bit? Does that translate to brunette?”
“On a basic level,” Trina confirmed. “Of course, the way I work it’s way beyond anything basic.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Yeah, yeah, I think. But he was wearing a hair enhancer.”
“A good one, too, but you’re talking to the expert. Hey, hey, that’s why I didn’t think it was him in the bar. He wasn’t. I mean he was, the hair enhancer wasn’t. At least not the same one. I didn’t get a close or long enough look to tell if it was hair or enhancer.”
“I want you to describe him. I want you to give me every detail you can remember about him. Appearance, voice, body type, gestures, any distinguishing marks. Everything. Tomorrow morning, you’ll work with a police artist.”
“Really? No shit? I’m like an eyewitness69. Frosty.”
“Let’s take this up to my office. Think. Get him in your head.”
She pulled out her ’link. “Peabody. I need you to contact Yancy. I want him ready to work with a witness tomorrow. Seven sharp.”
“Is that morning?” Trina demanded.
“Stow it.” Eve simply shot out a finger. “Got that, Peabody?”
“Got it. Is that…Is that Trina?”
“Yeah. She’s our wit. Small freaking world. I want Yancy, Peabody. I’m taking down her description now, and I’ll relay it to the team. Tell McNab I want him and the e-geeks ready to run with the description, then with the image as soon as Yancy’s got one.”
She was walking as she talked, moving briskly out of the dining room, through the corridor, the foyer, up the stairs. As orders and instructions rolled out of her, Trina glanced over at Roarke.
“She’s a little scary when she’s on the scent70.”
“She can be a lot scarier. You go up. I’ll be along.” He turned back, brushed a hand over Mavis’s shoulder. “Why don’t you and Bella and Trina plan to stay here tonight?”
“Really? It’s okay?”
“Absolutely. I’ll have Summerset take care of whatever you think you’ll need.”
“Thanks. Boy. Thanks. I know it’s silly. Nobody’s going to bother us, but…”
“We’ll all feel better, under the circumstances, if you’re tucked in here. Why don’t you get in touch with Leonardo, let him know?”
“Okay. Good. Thanks. Roarke?”
“Hmmm?”
“If Trina hadn’t changed her hair…”
“I know.” He kissed the top of her head now. “We’re all very glad mocha didn’t suit her.”
收听单词发音 |
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spurt
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| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
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projections
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| 预测( projection的名词复数 )； 投影； 投掷； 突起物 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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sedated
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| v.使昏昏入睡，使镇静( sedate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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frigid
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| adj.寒冷的，凛冽的；冷淡的；拘禁的 | |
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carving
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| n.雕刻品，雕花 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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canvass
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| v.招徕顾客，兜售；游说；详细检查，讨论 | |
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shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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jersey
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| n.运动衫 | |
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pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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timing
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| n.时间安排，时间选择 | |
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specialty
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| n.(speciality)特性，特质；专业，专长 | |
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nil
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energize
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| vt.给予(某人或某物)精力、能量 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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flirty
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| adj.爱调戏的，轻浮的 | |
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swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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deftly
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| adv.灵巧地，熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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diffused
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| 散布的，普及的，扩散的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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itch
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| n.痒，渴望，疥癣；vi.发痒，渴望 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fiddle
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| n.小提琴；vi.拉提琴；不停拨弄，乱动 | |
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wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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pregnancy
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| n.怀孕，怀孕期 | |
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spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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gory
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| adj.流血的；残酷的 | |
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stymied
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| n.被侵袭的v.妨碍，阻挠( stymie的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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salon
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| n.[法]沙龙；客厅；营业性的高级服务室 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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wig
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| n.假发 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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consultants
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| 顾问( consultant的名词复数 )； 高级顾问医生，会诊医生 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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sculpting
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| 雕刻( sculpt的现在分词 )； 雕塑； 做（头发）； 梳（发式） | |
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busting
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| 打破，打碎( bust的现在分词 )； 突击搜查（或搜捕）； （使）降级，降低军阶 | |
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retail
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| v./n.零售；adv.以零售价格 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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killers
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| 凶手( killer的名词复数 )； 消灭…者； 致命物； 极难的事 | |
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flip
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| vt.快速翻动；轻抛；轻拍；n.轻抛；adj.轻浮的 | |
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joint
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| adj.联合的，共同的；n.关节，接合处；v.连接，贴合 | |
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squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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guzzled
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| v.狂吃暴饮，大吃大喝( guzzle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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raven
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| n.渡鸟，乌鸦；adj.乌亮的 | |
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eyewitness
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| n.目击者，见证人 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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