Memory in Death

Chapter 17

IT WASN T SNOW FOR CHRISTMAS EVE, BUT another bout of nasty, freezing rain that made gleeful skittering sounds against the windows. It would, Eve thought in disgust, coat the streets and sidewalks and give the city employees who were on a shift another excuse to blow the day off.

She was tempted, nearly, to join them. She could drag on a sweatshirt and work from home, avoid the ice rink of the streets. Stay warm and comfortable. It was sheer contrariness that had her preparing to go in.

Knowing that didn’t bother her a bit.

“You have everything you need here,” Roarke reminded her.

“Don’t.” She shouldered on her weapon harness. “Don’t have Feeney, for one. Don’t have Mira. And I’m going to try to snag her long enough to get a profile on Zana and Bobby. Don’t have whoever’s bad luck has them in the lab today. And I want to go by the hotel, the hospital, do follow-ups there.”

“Perhaps you haven’t heard.” He stretched out his legs to enjoy another cup of coffee. “There’s a marvelous invention called the telelink. Some, as we have here, are also equipped for holo-conferences.”

“Not the same.” She pulled a jacket over her weapon. “You sticking home today?”

“If I said I was?”

“You’d be lying. You’re going in, same as me, finishing things up personally. Going to let your staff go early, you softie, but you’re heading in.”

“I’ll stay if you do.”

“I’m going, and so are you.” But she walked over, framed his face, and kissed him. “See you in a few hours.”

“Well, have a care, will you? The roads are bound to be treacherous.”

“So’s a chemi-head with a lead bat, but I’ve handled those.”

“Figuring as much, I had one of the all-terrains brought around.” He lifted a brow when she frowned. “I’ll be using one myself, so you’ve no argument there.”

“Fine, okay.” She glanced at the time. “Well, while you’ve got your worrywart on, maybe you could check with the shuttle, see if Peabody got off okay.”

“Already did, they’re in the air and already out of the weather. Wear your gloves,” he called out as she went through the door.

“Such a nag,” she mumbled under her breath.

But she was grateful for them, and the thin, soft fur lining that had somehow found its way into her coat. How did he manage that stuff?

Whatever was spitting out of the sky felt like nasty little needle pricks as cold as Mars. She climbed into the muscular vehicle, found its efficient heater already running. The man missed nothing. It was almost spooky.

Even warm, and in a vehicle with the traction and power of a jet tank, she had an ugly fight on her hands all the way downtown. Where before she’d cursed people who ditched work for an extended holiday as lazy wimps, now she cursed them for not staying the hell home. Or for driving a vehicle that couldn’t handle the icy roads.

Twice she came upon fender benders, felt obliged to stop and get out, determine if there were injuries before calling it in to Traffic.

When traffic stalled, again, she imagined what it would be like just to roll over the cars in her path. The tank she was in could handle it, she thought.

When she arrived at Central, she calculated that more than twenty percent of the slots on her level were empty.

One of the detectives hailed her when she walked into Homicide.

“Slader, aren’t you on graveyard?”

“Yes, sir. Caught one a couple hours before end of tour. Got the guy in the cooler. Vic’s his brother, who was visiting from out of town for the holidays. Ends up with a broken neck at the bottom of the stairs. Guy in the cooler has some swank place over on Park. Vic’s a loser, no fixed address, no visible means of employment.”

“He get helped down the steps?”

“Oh, yeah.” Slader’s smile was thin and wry. “Guy claims the brother was stoned—and we’ll get the tox on that—but he did have some Juice on him. Suspect said he was in bed, heard the noise of the fall, and found his brother at the bottom of the steps. Thing is, he apparently didn’t think we’d notice the vic’s facial bruises, or hoped we put them off on the fall. But seeing as our guy’s got scraped knuckles, and a split lip, we’re figuring otherwise.”

Eve scratched the back of her neck. People, she thought, could be unbelievably stupid. “You work him toward the self-defense or accidental angle?”

“Yeah, but he’s sticking to his story. He’s an exec for an ad company. Figure he doesn’t want to get his name on-screen. We’re going to go at him again after he sweats a little more. Guy broke down and cried twice, but he’s not moving off the story. Thing is, Lieutenant, we’re into overtime.”

“Keep at him, get it wrapped. I’ll clear the OT. Half the damn squad’s out. I’m not passing it off. He call for a lawyer?”

“Not yet.”

“You run into a wall, tag me. Otherwise, just put it to bed.”

She left her coat in her office after skimming the waiting paperwork and what had accumulated overnight. It bred, she thought as she headed to EDD, like rabbits.

For once, the walls of EDD weren’t bouncing with voices, music, or electronic chatter. There were a handful of detectives in cubes or at desks, and some of the machines humped away, but it was, for this division, eerily quiet.

“Crime could run rampant with the number of cops at home hanging their damn Christmas stockings.”

Feeney looked up. “Things are mostly quiet.”

“That’s what happens before things blow up,” she said darkly. “Things get mostly quiet.”

“You’re cheerful. Here’s something that’s going to put a kink in your hose.”

“You still haven’t pinned down the account.”

“I haven’t pinned down the account, because there is no account. Not with those numbers, in that order.”

“Maybe she mixed up the numbers. If you do a random search, utilizing the numbers in any order, then—”

“You’re going to stand there, tell me how to do e-work?”

She blew out a breath, dropped into his visitor’s chair. “No.”

“Thing is, we got too many numbers. At least one extra. So you run a random, taking out any number, or numbers, what you’ve got, Dallas, is a hell of a lot of accounts.”

“Well, shit” was the best she could think of.

“No way to pin it, I can pin the random accounts, but it’s going to take time if you want all of them. ‘Cause what you’re doing this way, is pulling rabbits out of hats.”

She drummed her fingers on her thigh. “I’ll take them when you get them. Start cross-referencing.”

He gave her one of his hangdog looks. “Gonna be a headache of major proportions. Thing is, Dallas, you’re getting the data from a woman who was under duress and stress. No telling if she got the numbers she gave you right in the first place.”

“Why didn’t he make her record them? Write them down. Have some way of being sure she got them right? He’s got two million on the line, and he trusts the memory of a terrified woman?”

“People are stupid more than half the time.”

It was God’s truth, to her mind, but it wasn’t helping her. “He’s smart enough, allegedly, to kill, remember the details to cover himself for the murder, get out and away undetected. He’s smart enough, allegedly, to be on the spot in order to get another woman into a closed establishment, without anyone they passed noticing the abduction. He leaves no trace there either. But he flubs up the main deal? He screws up on what we would be led to believe was the motive for murder? You buy that, Feeney?”

“Well, you put it that way, I’ll save my money.” He pulled on his bottom lip. “You think she made it up?”

“I think it’s a possibility that needs to be explored. You know, it doesn’t put a kink in my hose so much as it adds weight to a theory I’ve been working on.”

“Want to walk it by me? Got time, got coffee.”

He’d trained her, she thought. She could remember countless times they’d talked through a case, picking over, niggling over the details over bad food and worse coffee.

He’d taught her how to think, how to see, and most of all how to feel an investigation.

“Wouldn’t mind, but I don’t see why I should have to suffer through that sludge you call coffee. Figure maybe you could share the holiday token I brought you.”

She tossed a gift bag on his desk, and watched his eyes light up like Christmas morning. “That coffee in there? The real deal?”

“No point in bringing you the fake stuff if I’m going to be drinking it.”

“Hot damn! Thanks. Hey, close the door, will you? Don’t want anybody getting wind while I set this up. Jesus, I’m going to have to put a lock on my AC, or my boys will be swarming in here like locusts.”

Once the door was safely shut, he moved to the AutoChef to begin the homey tasks of loading and programming. “You know, the wife’s trying to stick me with decaf at home. Might as well drink tap water, you ask me. But this…”

He took a long, deep inhale through his nose. “This is prime.” He turned his head, sent her a quick grin. “Got a couple of doughnuts in here. Logged ‘em in as pea soup so the boys don’t get wise.”

“Smart.” She thought of her travails with the candy thief who continually unearthed her office stash. She might give Feeney’s method a shot.

“So what do you got pointing to the female wit?”

She ran it through for him while he dealt with the coffee, shared his doughnuts.

He listened, sipping his coffee, taking an occasional generous bite out of the glazed doughnut. Sugary crumbs dotted his shirt. “Probability’s going to favor the son, if it’s a family job. Blood kills quicker. Could be he brought the wife into it, pressured her. Hey, guess what, honey? I just killed Mom. So I need you to say I was in here with you, sleeping like a baby.”

“Could’ve gone that way.”

“But woman on woman, that’s another hot button.” He gestured with the last of his doughnut, then popped it in his mouth. “In-laws add to it. Sick and tired of you interfering, you old bat. Then she throws herself on the son. Oh, my God, there was a terrible accident. You have to help me.”

“Doesn’t explain the scam, the supposed abduction, or Bobby in the hospital.”

“Yeah, it could. You got one or both of your suspects either wanting nothing to do with the scam, or wanting all the cupcakes. The abduction is frills. Maybe just frills. That’d be on her. Trying to put a bow on it. Maybe it goes back, Dallas, like you think. Shit happens when you’re a kid, it sticks with you.”

She said nothing to that, and he stared into his coffee. Each let the subject of her own childhood slide away.

“You’ve got to get something on her—or him. Something you can use to put the pressure on. You’ve got yourself an onion.”

“I’ve got a what?”

“An onion. You’ve gotta start peeling away the layers.”

* * *

An onion, Eve thought. Leave it to Feeney. But it had given her a fresh idea.

She headed to Mira’s, caught Mira’s admin at her desk, dealing with busywork while Christmas carols played on low. “How’s her schedule today?”

“It’s very light. We’re closing the office at noon until start of business hours on the twenty-sixth. She’s with another officer now.” The admin checked her watch. “Nearly done. She has another appointment in fifteen minutes, then she’s fairly well clear.”

“I could use a minute with her between appointments. I can wait.”

“All right, but I hope you don’t plan to add to her schedule. She and her husband have plans.”

“I won’t keep her,” Eve began, then stepped back as another cop came out of the office.

“Just a minute.” The admin held up a finger, got up to walk to Mira’s door herself. “Doctor, Lieutenant Dallas is here. She’d like a moment.”

“Of course.” Mira got up from her desk as Eve entered. “I didn’t expect to see you again until after the holidays.”

“Need a favor. I’m looking for a profile, maybe even just an impression of a suspect.”

“On the Lombard matter.”

“Yeah. I’m looking at the daughter-in-law.”

“Oh?” Mira sat, leaned back while Eve ran quickly through her angle.

“What I’d like is for you to go with me to her hotel, or the hospital. I don’t know yet where she’ll be in an hour. I’m going to try to corner her at the hotel first. I know you’ve got plans. I can run you home myself after.”

“I suppose I could—”

“Good. Great.” Eve backed toward the door before Mira changed her mind. “I’ll come back and get you in an hour. I’m going to set it up.”

She hurried out, using her ‘link to connect with Zana’s room at the hotel.

“I’m swinging by in about an hour,” Eve told her.

“Oh. I was hoping to go to the hospital. I just called, and they said Bobby was still sleeping, but—”

“I’ll make sure you get there.” Eve waited a beat. “How’s his condition?”

“Stable. They said he was stable. But they want to keep him another twenty-four hours at least. Observation. And we need to make some arrangements here before they’ll release him. I need to get a wheelchair, and these medications, and—”

“Why don’t you start arrangements for what you need from there? That way you’ll be set for him tomorrow. I’ll have a uniform take you to the hospital, get you home.”

“Well, all right, I guess. Since he’s asleep anyway.”

“Good. I’ll be there in an hour.”

She headed back to her office to write up an update for her commander. Halfway through, Slader stuck his head in the door.

“Got him wrapped, Lieutenant.”

“The brother? You got a confession?”

“Junkie brother comes home, see, and the other guy’s waiting for him. He’s found out some stuff’s missing from the apartment. His pricey wrist unit, some electronics, that kind of deal. Gonna confront his brother, kick him out. Brother comes in late, stoned to the eyeballs.”

“You got the tox to substantiate?”

“Yeah. Vic had enough shit in him to fly all the way to Pluto and back. Looks like he pawned the shit he took from his brother to buy the stuff. Guy tells him to take a hike, and they get into it. Now our guy says the dead brother threw the first punch. Maybe yes, maybe no.”

Slader shrugged. “But there’re swings on both sides. Asshole brother takes a header down the stairs, snaps his neck. Other guy panics, tries to set it up like he’d been in bed and the dead brother just took a tumble. We can squeeze him maybe on Man Two, but the PA doesn’t like it. Guy’s willing to cop to Man Three. So that’s how we’re doing it.”

“Good enough. Make sure the dead guy’s the one who pawned the merchandise. Check that before you sign off on the deal.”

“Partner’s doing that now. Checks out, we’re clearing it. Stupid bastard—the live brother—could’ve saved himself a lot of time and trouble he’d just copped to the fight. People just like lying to cops.”

Truer words, Eve mused as another thought occurred. Layers. Yeah, she might try peeling one.

* * *

In the garage, Mira studied the all-terrain. “This can’t be your city issue.”

“No. Roarke. Icy roads.” Eve shrugged as she climbed in. “This thing would probably transverse the Arctic Circle, so he’s satisfied I can navigate New York in it.”

“Well, I feel better in it.” Mira settled in. “I imagine there’s so little he can control regarding your safety, he pushes on the things he can.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“Dennis made noises about me staying home today.” Mira adjusted the softly patterned scarf around her neck. “I ended up having to arrange for a driver to satisfy him. It’s nice to have someone who’ll worry.”

“You think ?” Eve glanced over as she reversed. “Maybe,” she decided. “Maybe it is. But it’s hard to know you’re always worrying them.”

“It used to annoy me.”

“Really?”

“Charlie, he’d say, why do you take such chances, dealing with people who revel in that kind of darkness? If you’re inside them, don’t you see they can get inside you?” She smiled a little, stretching out her legs luxuriously in the warmth. “We went around that one, and variations on the theme, quite a bit when I took the position with the department.”

“You had fights? You and Mr. Mira?”

“We’re married, of course we had fights. Have them. He may seem easygoing, but he’s got a mile-wide stubborn streak in him. I love it.”

She brushed her hair back as she turned her head to look at Eve. “I imagine we’ve had a few bouts that could compete with the rounds you and Roarke have. But they bought the package, didn’t they? Yours and mine, just as we bought theirs. So we find ways of dealing, of making it work. So you drive this big machine on a nasty day. Which, by the way, is a very sexy ride.”

Eve had to grin. “It is, isn’t it? So, how soon did the two of you bump heads?”

“Oh, God, we went at each other over buying our first sofa for our first apartment. You would have thought it was the most vital purchase we’d ever make. We ended up buying nothing for nearly a month because neither of us would give in. Then we settled on something completely different, opened a bottle of wine, and made very enthusiastic love on it.”

“It’s stress, right? Mostly stress and figuring each other out. People who haven’t been hooked up long, they’re starry-eyed, sure, and spend a lot of time boinking like bunnies, but they snipe at each other over little stuff. And you add major stress, and there ends up being some tension.”

“Generally speaking. Specifically speaking about the Lombards, I’d be surprised if there haven’t been some difficulties over the last several days. But often, most often, people tend to keep those private battles private.”

“But they show, especially to a trained observer. And these two look smooth as glass. She’s like the poster girl for wifely behavior. It just hits me wrong.” She shifted in her seat. “I know I’m not much in the wifely department, but it makes me want to take another sniff at her. Going out for coffee and bagels, the morning after your mother-in-law’s been bludgeoned to death? Come on.”

“It’s not unusual to do something basic, something everyday, to compensate for trauma.”

“Well, how about tapping room service, then? Sure, it was an economy hotel, but it ran to room service.”

“Devil’s advocate,” Mira said, holding up a hand. “She’s not used to that sort of thing, more used to doing the food shopping and preparation. I agree, it would’ve been simpler and more sensible under the circumstances, but it’s difficult to see that as suspicious behavior.”

“It’s more the ball of it. Of her. She does everything just so. Like she’s got some checklist. Okay, turn on the tears. Now be brave, bite your lip, turn the guileless, supportive look on your husband. But don’t forget your makeup and hair. There’s a certain vanity in there that doesn’t click with the rest of her.”

“You don’t like her.”

“You know, I don’t.” Stopped at a light, Eve tapped her fingers on the wheel. Naked fingers, she realized. She’d forgotten her gloves back at Central. “And there’s no reason not to like her, on the surface. So it’s my gut telling me she’s off. Something about her is off, that’s all. And maybe I’m just full of shit, maybe I’m reaching. So your impression’s going to weigh.”

“But no pressure,” Mira murmured.

“I’m telling her I’m bringing you along to counsel,” Eve continued as she parked. “Just to offer a hand since she’s had a couple of tough blows back-to-back.”

“And she’ll believe that?”

Eve smiled thinly. “She’s not the only one who can put on a show. You want to be careful getting out. That sidewalk’s going to be slick.”

“It’s nice,” Mira said easily, “to have someone worry.”

Vaguely embarrassed, Eve waited until the street was clear to climb out. Inside, she nodded toward security, then logged Mira in. “Any movement upstairs?” she asked the woman on duty.

“None reported.”

“She order any food?” At the security woman’s raised brow, Eve spoke casually. “Just want to make sure she’s taking care of herself. Also, if my men have been hitting room service, I need to keep tabs for the budget.”

“I can check on that for you.”

“Thanks.” She moved to the elevator, got on with Mira. “Just want to see how well she’s taking care of herself,” she said to answer Mira’s unspoken question. “Be interesting to see what she’s been eating.”

She acknowledged her man on the door. “I want transportation for the witness to and from the hospital, but I want a delay. I don’t want her leaving for thirty minutes after I do. Got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

Eve knocked, waited. Zana opened the door with a quick, tremulous smile. “I’m so glad you’re here. I just talked with Bobby’s nurse, and she said he’s awake, so… Oh.” She stopped when she spotted Mira. “I’m sorry. Hello.”

“Zana, this is Dr. Mira. She’s a friend of mine.”

“Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you. Please come in. I can, uh, get some coffee?”

“That’s all right, I’ll take care of that in a minute. Dr. Mira’s a counselor. I thought, under the circumstances, you might want to talk to someone. Maybe Bobby, too. Mira’s the best,” Eve added with a smile, laying a hand on Mira’s shoulder to make it seem more friendly than official. “She’s helped me a lot with… issues.”

“I don’t know what to say. Thanks so much for thinking of me, of us.”

“You’ve been through some hard knocks. Survivors of violence don’t always understand the full extent of the stress they’re under. Talking to me, well, even though Bobby and I go back, you’re still talking to a cop. But if you think it’s out of line, then—”

“No, God. It’s so thoughtful of you. I’ve just been wandering around here, most of the night. No one to talk to. I’ve never talked to a counselor before. I don’t know where to start.”

“Why don’t we sit down?” Mira suggested. “Your husband’s condition has improved?”

“Yes. They said he’ll need to stay in the hospital another day, maybe two, then we can go to out-patient status. I don’t really understand all the medical terms.”

“I can help you with that, too.”

“Look, I’ll be in the kitchen. I’ll get the coffee, get out of the way.”

“I don’t mind if you stay,” Zana told Eve. “You know everything.”

“I’ll get the coffee anyway, give you a minute.”

Eve moved across the room, into the narrow alcove. And gee, she thought, if she pushed the wrong buttons on an unfamiliar AC unit, who could argue?

She could hear Zana’s voice, the thickness in it of suppressed tears. Oh, you’re good, she decided. But I’m better.

She ran a quick scan, replaying orders over the last twenty-four hours.

Cheese, raspberries, popcorn—extra butter. Bet somebody watched vids last night, Eve thought. And a hearty breakfast this morning: Ham omelette, toast, coffee, and orange juice.

She programmed for coffee, then eased open the minifriggie. Bottle of red wine, she noted. Maybe two glasses left in it. Soft drinks. Frozen nondairy dessert, double chocolate—half gone.

Trauma and tragedy didn’t seem to be affecting Zana’s appetite.

When she came back with the coffee, Zana was mopping at her face with a tissue. “It’s just one thing after the next,” she told Mira. “I can’t find my balance, I guess. We were coming here to have fun. Bobby wanted to treat me to a trip, to somewhere exciting I’d never been. Part of my Christmas present since his mama was so hot to come, you know. To talk to Eve, after all the years. And then, everything’s been so awful.”

She began to shred the tissue so pieces of it fell like snow into her lap. “Poor Bobby, he’s been trying to be so strong, and now he’s hurt. I just want to make it easier on him. Somehow.”

“I’m sure you are, just by being there for him. Still, it’s important that you look after yourself as well, and let yourself grieve for a woman you were close to. To go through that process, Zana. And to get rest, keep your health.”

“I can’t even think of myself right now. How can I?”

“I understand. It’s human to put ourselves to one side at times of crisis. Especially for women to do so,” Mira added and gave Zana’s hand a pat. “Bobby will need you, emotionally and physically in the days and weeks to come. It’s difficult—thank you, Eve—it’s difficult to lose a parent, any family member. But to lose one through violent means adds another layer, even more stress and grief. You’ve both had a shock, several in fact. I hope when you’re able to go back to Texas, you’ll find someone there to talk to. I can certainly give you a list of recommendations for counselors in your area.”

“I’d so appreciate that. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I’ve never talked to a counselor before.”

“You didn’t go to grief counseling when your mother died?” Eve asked.

“Oh, no. I didn’t even think about it. It’s just not the kind of thing I was raised to think about, I guess. I just… I don’t know, went on, I guess. But this is different, I can see that. And I want to do what’s best for Bobby.”

“Then you will.”

“If I could have a minute, Zana. We’re having trouble with the numbers you gave us. The ones your abductor made you memorize.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We’re not finding anything with those numbers. Actually, there are too many numbers. Do you think you could’ve gotten them mixed up, or added some?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Her hands fluttered up from her lap. “I was so sure. I kept repeating them over and over, like he said to. I even said them in my head after… after he left. But I was so scared. What should we do? What can I do?”

“We could try hypnosis.” Eve took a sip of coffee, met Mira’s eyes over the cup. “That’s another reason I brought Dr. Mira by today, so you could meet her, feel comfortable with her if we went this route. Dr. Mira often assists the department with this kind of thing.”

“It could be helpful.” Mira picked up the ball. “We could, under hypnosis, take you back to the abduction, take you through it, while making certain you feel safe and secure.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just don’t know. Hypnosis.” She reached up, tangling her fingers in the trio of thin gold chains she wore around her neck. “I don’t know. The idea scares me some. I need to think about it. It’s hard right now to think of anything but Bobby.”

“It would be a way to help us find whoever killed Bobby’s mother.” Eve pressed a little harder. “And knowing the person responsible has been identified, apprehended, and will pay for what was done helps the healing process. Dr. Mira?”

“Yes, that’s very true. Why don’t I send you some information so you can see how this is approached? Help you understand the process a little better.”

“That’d be okay, I guess. But gosh, I don’t know. Just the thought of going through that again, even in my mind. It really scares me. I’m not strong like you,” she said to Eve. “I’m just ordinary.”

“Ordinary people do extraordinary things, every day.” But Mira smiled, rose. “I’ll get you that information, Zana, and I’d be happy to talk with you again, if you think I can help.”

“Thank you so very much. Thank you. Both of you.” Zana got to her feet, held out both her hands to Eve. “It means a lot to know you’re working so hard for us.”

“I’ll be in touch. I’ll arrange for transportation to the hospital. Someone will call up when it’s here. I’m going to try to get by to see Bobby, but if I don’t make it, give him my best.”

“I will.”

Eve waited until they were on the elevator. “What’s your take?”

“I don’t know how helpful I’m going to be to you. Her actions and reactions are well within the expected range. Her responses plausible. I will say that—with your voice niggling in my ear—they were a bit too textbook. But the textbook was written simply because of these actions and reactions to trauma and violence.”

“She balked at hypnosis.”

“So do you,” Mira pointed out. “It’s often the first reaction to the suggestion.”

“Me going under isn’t going to help find a killer. If she’d agreed to it, I’d‘ve lost a million-dollar bet with myself. She had popcorn last night.”

“Comfort food.”

“And a bottle of wine’s in there, nearly empty.”

“I’d be surprised if she hadn’t had a few drinks.”

“You’re right,” Eve said irritably. “You’re not being helpful. She had herself a big, fat breakfast, and I’m betting she hit room service for a nice meal last night.”

“Not everyone goes off food with stress. People often use food as comfort, often overeating, in fact, to compensate. It can swing either way, Eve. We both know what you’ve got is instinct, and no evidence. Not even circumstantial at this point.”

“Shit. See if I give you a ride home next time.”

Eve got off the elevator, headed straight for security. “Have you got those room service orders?”

“I do. Nothing from your men. Our guest ordered roast chicken with new potatoes and carrots. She also had a starter of crab salad, and ended with key lime pie. A bottle of merlot went with that, as well as a bottle of spring water.”

“Good appetite,” Eve commented.

“Yeah. Sounds like she’s working to keep her strength up.”

Eve heard the cynicism, appreciated it. “I’m going to want a record of any calls she made on the room ‘link.”

“I thought you would. Three outgoing. One to the hospital last evening, two to the hospital this morning. No incoming.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Eve strode out. “Goddamn if somebody lolls around drinking wine and eating pie when her husband’s racked up in the hospital. Would you?”

“No. And neither would you. But eating pie isn’t a crime, and I can’t tell you it’s out of the normal scope of reactions.”

“How come she didn’t contact Bobby’s pal and partner to tell him Bobby was hurt?”

“She might very well have done so, on her personal ‘link.”

“Yeah, we’ll check that. I’m betting she didn’t. Didn’t get in touch because she didn’t want him heading out here, or keeping her tied up talking out the details, buzzing her back for updates. She wanted a little alone time with her fucking pie.”

Mira laughed out loud before she could cough it away, and earned a scowl. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny, it was just such an image. You want a profile, I’ll give you one.”

She got back in the car, strapped in. “The subject is a young, inexperienced woman, who appears used to—and amenable to—being told what she should do. She looks to her husband to make decisions, while she deals with the more domestic areas. This is her comfort zone. She enjoys attention while having a tendency to be skittish and shy. She has an orderly, tidy, and, I would say, submissive nature.”

“Or she’s slipped that persona on like a skin-suit.”

“Yes, or, if you’re right, Eve, this is a very clever, very calculating woman. One who would be willing to subvert her own nature for a considerable length of time in order to reach her goal. She’s been married to this man for several months, which brings them into a very intimate relationship every day. She knew and worked for him before that, was courted by him. Maintaining a pose contrary to her nature would be a very impressive feat.”

“I’m prepared to be impressed. I’m not pushing aside other possibilities, other suspects,” she added. “I’m just adding her in.”

And keeping her at the top of my list, Eve thought.