Strangers In Death

20

EVE SET UP EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, LINING up the data she’d already accumulated and organized. For now, she set aside the results of Roarke’s explorations. The warrants would pull that information in soon enough.

She decided to say nothing about the buffet table, the extra seating, that had found their way into her office. What would be the point? She skimmed over her notes, took a last round with her murder boards.

Baxter surprised her by walking in just before eight.

“Guess the brunette wasn’t so hot after all.”

“She was smoking. I left her warm and cozy in…that’s food. Hot damn!”

Eve watched him bullet over to the buffet, lift the lid of the first warmer. “Yo, that is pig meat.” He plucked out a slice of bacon, bit in.

“Just help yourself,” Eve said dryly.

“Gonna.” Bearing no shame, Baxter grabbed a plate. “While I do you can tell me what you’ve got that has me here eating meat of pig-and hey!-egg of actual chicken at eight hundred on a Saturday.”

“You’ll get it when the team gets here.”

“We’ve got a team now?” He surfed the warmers, began to pile the plate with food while he studied Eve and the buffet offerings. It seemed to her it was a tough toss-up which interested him more.

“We’ve got a team now. Where’s Trueheart?”

“On the way. Peabody?”

“The same. I’ve called in Feeney and Mira and…the civilian,” she said as Roarke walked in.

“Baxter.”

“Primo pig. Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Roarke poured himself a cup of coffee, lifted his eyebrows at Eve. “Lieutenant?”

“Yeah, yeah, why not? We’ll see if we can work in the briefing between courses.”

“Woohoo, breakfast!” Peabody all but skipped into the room, just ahead of McNab.

“I told you not to feed the puppies,” Eve scolded.

“But they’re so cute.” Roarke handed her the coffee.

“Sorry, am I late?” Trueheart hurried in. “I missed the…Wow.” His young hero face went bright as a birthday candle at the sight of the buffet.

“Grab some pig, kid,” Baxter told him. “Team feed. Hey, Feeney, Dr. Mira.”

“Good morning. Isn’t that lovely!” Mira shot a smile at Eve, beamed at Roarke. “And so considerate.”

“Don’t eat all the damn bacon, McNab.” Feeney muscled him aside to claim his own.

“There’s ham, too,” McNab told him with his mouth full of it.

“When you all finish stuffing food in your faces, maybe you could listen up.”

“I got no problem listening while I’m stuffing.” Feeney glanced around. “You?”

“Well, damn it, everybody just fill it up and sit down with it somewhere.” Cops and food, she thought. Put them in the same room, invite chaos. “This is a goddamn official briefing not an all-you-can-eat.”

“Here you are, then.” Roarke handed her a plate of bacon and eggs. “You won’t be so cross if you have a bit of breakfast.”

“This is your fault.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He grinned without an ounce of remorse. “Go on, then, shovel some in.”

She did, as everyone else was. “Some of you vultures…sorry,” Eve said to Mira, “no offense.”

Mira took a neat bite of creamy eggs. “None taken.”

“Some of you may be aware that Detective Pig-Eater there and his aide, Officer Danish, caught a homicide a couple months back. Baxter, quick overview.”

“Custer, Ned,” he began, and reeled off the basic facts.

When he’d finished, Eve flipped Suzanne Custer’s ID and data on screen. “The widow’s alibi holds,” she said. “The ’link to ’link transmissions she made originated in her apartment, and EDD analysis verifies they were live trans, not recorded. Suzanne Custer didn’t slit her husband’s throat. She not only wasn’t there, but lacked the physicality for the killing blow.”

“Too short, too slight,” Baxter confirmed between shovels.

“The extensive and thorough investigation by the gluttonous primary and his aide unearthed no sidepiece, no relative, no friend who might have killed Custer on the wife’s behalf,” Eve continued. “Said investigation found no financial payment, or other bartering tool that may have been used by the wife to hire the hit. The widow does, however, benefit financially from Custer’s death, and as the vic had a documented history of spousal abuse, adultery, and kept his fist closed over the purse strings, the widow also benefits on emotional, physical, and practical levels from his death.”

“Dallas, we can’t pin her.” Baxter lifted his hands, one of them holding a chunk of grilled ham speared on a fork. “We dead-ended on every angle we played with her connected to the murder.”

“She went white.” Trueheart shifted in his seat as Eve turned her gaze on him. “When Detective Baxter and I went to inform her, she didn’t seem all that surprised to find cops at the door. More tired, resigned. She said how she didn’t have money for bail. And when we told her he was dead, she went white. It didn’t feel faked, I guess I want to say. It rang true.”

“It probably was true. Let’s switch over to the Anders case. Peabody and I caught this one.”

Baxter rose to get more coffee as Eve laid out the salients. “Are you looking for a connect?” he asked. “Because both vics appear to have been killed by an LC, or a sex partner?”

“That’s an interesting connection, isn’t it? And one of the mistakes made. Ava Anders.” Eve ordered Ava’s ID photo and data split screen with Suzanne’s. “Also solidly alibied at the time of her husband’s murder. While she apparently has more friends, certainly more influence and resources than Suzanne, no evidence leads to murder for hire. Her circle of friends don’t play in. She also gains financially, and when you scrape away at the surface of her claims of a happy marriage to the lies and manipulations underneath, she gains on several other levels.”

She turned to study the screen. “These women have a great deal in common, under the surface. And they’re connected. Another mistake. Suzanne Custer’s two kids are part of the Anders sports programs. She’s attended several of Ava’s seminars and mommy retreats. She’s done some volunteering, too.”

“Huh.” It was all Feeney said, but Eve glanced at him, and saw it had clicked.

“You think the Anders woman got the idea to off her husband from what happened to Custer?” Baxter’s brows drew together as he stared hard at the screen. “Little Suzanne caught a lucky break, why can’t I? Maybe she talks an LC into doing her the favor, pays her off through the program or the company, then…”

“Simpler than that,” Feeney commented and enjoyed another scoop of hash browns. “Simpler’s best.”

Baxter frowned, then…“Well, Christ.”

It hit, Eve noted, hard enough for Baxter to forget his coffee and pig meat. “Give me a hand, will you,” she said to Roarke.

Together they turned Eve’s murder board so the second side faced the room. “Ava Anders to Bebe Petrelli and Cassie Gordon. They didn’t pan out for her, but she tested waters there. Ava Anders to Charles Monroe. Professional LC, clean record, sterling rep. Use him to build her claim that her husband liked the kink, and she didn’t. That she loved him regardless. Ava to Brigit Plowder and Sasha Bride-West. Alibis. Girlfriends, tight circle.”

As she outlined, Eve tapped each photo, each connection.

“Ava to Edmond and Linny Luce-friends of vic who would, in turn, testify as to the comfortable and happy marriage. Except they don’t like her-under the surface, they don’t like her a bit. She didn’t count on that. She didn’t count on any real connection being made between her-lady of the manor, lady bountiful-with the less fortunate women in the program she oversees.”

Now she pinned her finger to Ned Custer’s photo. “She sure as hell didn’t count on any connection between the murder of a philandering, blue-collar asshole and the murder of her renowned philanthropist husband. Murders committed months apart, with different MOs, in different parts of the city.”

“It could work,” Peabody said under her breath. “It could really work.”

“It did work,” Eve corrected. “Two men are dead.”

“You think they traded murders. Fuck me,” Baxter added.

“I know they did. Ava’s been planning this a long time. At least two years, since I believe she killed her father-in-law. But probably longer than that. Once the father-in-law was out of the picture-” Eve tapped Reginald Anders’s photo on the board. “Lots more at stake. More money, more power, more control. That skin she was wearing, boy, that really had to start to tighten up on her. Every single day, to have to look at this guy she’d married, play the contented wife, listen to him drone on and on about his sports, his business, his programs. Planning the murders, that would help her get through it. That light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Yes,” Mira agreed when Eve turned to her. “For a goal-oriented personality, one who sees the big picture, the planning is part of the reward. For one who’s skilled in long-term role-playing, there would be considerable satisfaction in the success of that role. But you’re talking years, Eve. Any actor, even one so amoral and self-serving, would require breaks.”

“The vic traveled a lot, she encouraged it. And she would often entertain during those trips, leaving out the vic’s nephew and closer friends. Her parties, her way. And Charles. He added to her cover, to the picture, but let’s not discount the release of good sex-especially when you’re in the driver’s seat. The client holds the power with an LC.”

“If she did Custer, she must’ve stalked him,” McNab put in. “The wife couldn’t know what bar he’d troll in the night of. And Anders couldn’t have pulled it off on impulse. She had to be set.”

“Exactly right. We’ll canvass his haunts again, and show Ava’s photo, and the photo of her with red hair I’m having Yancy generate. She picked the flop, had to. Her type wouldn’t leave that to chance.”

“Agreed,” Mira said.

“We find a connection between her and the flop. Show her photo there. She’s not going to be alibied for the night of Custer’s murder, but we’re going to get that solid. She bought the wig, she bought the clothes. We’re going to find out where. We’re going to go over the case file from the father-in-law’s death and find her mistakes. And we’re going to bring her in. We’re going to sew her up, and we’re going to take her down for two counts of murder, and one count of conspiracy to commit.”

“Suzanne Custer,” Baxter murmured.

“Yeah, she’s the needle in the haystack and the needle for the thread. She trusts you.”

“Yeah.” Baxter sighed it. “Yeah, she does.”

“We’ll use that. We’re going to break her down, Baxter, you and me. We’ll break her because she’s not built like Ava.”

“She got nervous.” Trueheart shifted his attention to Baxter. “When we went back to talk to her, a few days after the murder, she was jumpy and nervous. She didn’t want to talk to us. You smoothed her down.”

“Yeah, yeah. It set off a little buzz, but there was nothing to tie her. Nothing. So I put it down to regular nerves and the situation. She had me, goddamn it.”

“Now we’ve got her,” Eve reminded him. “Dr. Mira, can you give us a personality profile on Suzanne Custer?”

“From Detective Baxter’s overview, I’d say she’s a woman who accepts or perhaps expects her own victimization. She accepted, or certainly lived with, her husband’s behavior. While it appears she sought more for her children, she failed to take advantage of programs offered for abused women. It’s possible she didn’t see herself as such. She doesn’t control, or seek control. At this point, until further study, my opinion would be she fears and seeks those with authority over her.”

“A woman who does what she’s told.”

“So it would seem,” Mira said, “from the data I have at this point. I’d like to look at her background, her childhood.”

“I’d appreciate if you could do that ASAP. Feeney, McNab, I need a search on electronic purchases. Look for the wig, costumes re Ava. Dig in. She may have picked them up a year ago, two years. Hell, she might’ve had them for a decade. Look for all communications between her and Suzanne Custer and her personal ’links, and any at Anders’s. I’ve got warrants to check all communication devices owned by Plowder and Bride-West.”

“On it,” Feeney told her, and kept eating.

“Trueheart, you’re with Peabody. Check for Suzanne’s purchases at a smut shop called Just Sex. Her husband shopped there, so odds are if she needed anything for the job, that’s where she’d go. Get the medicals on her from her health clinic-a Dr. Yin-and prescriptions from its pharmacy. Tap the Transit Authority. She had to get from her apartment to the Anders house and back. Mother of two, I bet she uses the subway routinely, and a fare card.”

“Lieutenant.” Trueheart raised his hand and lowered it again as Baxter elbowed him. “I don’t think she’d leave the kids alone. I don’t think she’d have gone out and left her kids unattended. She’s just not the type for it.”

“Okay. Then let’s find out if she got a sitter, or where her kids were on the night of. If the civilian has time…”

“The civilian can probably carve out a few minutes here and there,” Roarke commented.

“A remote was used to shut down the security at the Anders house. A high-end and illegal remote. Where did it come from and which one of our killers obtained it? I haven’t picked up a hot one there. You find out.”

“Not as entertaining as a visit to a smut shop,” Roarke considered, “but the black market has some appeal.”

“Good luck.” Feeney saluted him. “Coulda been any of a couple dozen types-or versions of types-picked up any time within the last couple years. Coulda been homemade, for that matter, you had any snap for it.”

Roarke smiled at him. “Adds to the fun, doesn’t it?”

“Let’s all go out and have fun. Baxter,” Eve said, “with me.”

I wouldn’t have pegged her.” Baxter brooded out the side window as Eve drove. “She snowed me right from the get.”

“You didn’t peg her because she didn’t do it.”

“Same thing as doing it, and I didn’t get a whiff. The boy did. When we went back and she was nervy, he caught the whiff. And I blew it off, explained it away. I didn’t see it, didn’t smell it, didn’t hear it.”

“Guess you’d better turn in your papers, then. I hear private security’s a good gig for washed-out cops.”

“To borrow a phrase, bite me.” But it didn’t seem he could work up any steam. “She’s soft, Dallas. Mira’ll come up with her psycho-whatever, but it comes down to her being a soft sort, a little wounded, a lot tired. Mousy, if you get me. Right now, with all you worked out, I’m trying to see her going into that house, pumping Anders full of tranqs and setting him up like a kink kill, and I can’t see it.”

“You like her. You feel sorry for her.”

Irritation tightened his face. “I like lots of people, and feel sorry for some. That doesn’t stop me from seeing a stone killer when she’s in my damn face.”

“You’re taking it personal, Baxter.”

“Damn right I am.” There was steam now as he jerked toward Eve. “And don’t give me any of that objectivity crap. You wouldn’t be so fucking good at the job if you didn’t take it personal.”

Eve gave him a minute to stew. “You want me to tell you you screwed up? You missed it? You didn’t see what you should’ve seen? Nothing I’d like better because it makes my day to ream out a smart-ass pig-eater like you. But I can’t do it. You didn’t screw up. You can’t miss what’s not in play, and can’t see what isn’t there.”

“You saw Ava Anders.”

“I didn’t like her goddamn face-and yeah, some of it was personal. I wouldn’t have seen the how if you hadn’t nagged my ass off about Custer. So reschedule your pity party, Baxter. We don’t have time for it now.”

“Assuming we’re playing to our strengths, you’ll be taking bad cop.”

“And you’d be the cop with the soft spot for the tragic, little widow.”

“Yeah.” He hissed out a breath. “Fucking A. I feel played, so I’ll be picking up the hats and balloons for the pity party later.”

“Don’t forget the cake.” She scouted out a parking spot as she neared Suzanne’s address. “It’s going to spook her, seeing me instead of Trueheart. Having to go into Central. If she’s thought about any of this happening, she may have thought about lawyers. You need to reassure her. Routine, tying things up.”

“I know how to play good cop.” He got out, waited for Eve on the sidewalk. “I need to take the lead with her, initially, keep her steady, make her think I’m a little ticked that you’re insisting on the official routine.”

“I know how to play bad cop,” Eve countered.

It was a miserable post-Urban War building. One of the structures tossed up from the rubble and never intended to last. Its concrete gray walls were blackened with age and weather, scored with graceless graffiti and misspelled obscenities.

They walked into a narrow, frigid entryway and took the rusted metal stairs up to the third floor. Everything echoed, Eve noted. Their feet on the treads, the sounds leaking out of doors and walls as they passed by, the noises from the street outside.

But none of the early spring warmth pushed in to boost the chilly air.

Baxter positioned himself at the door, knocked. The over-bright sound of kids and Saturday morning screen whooped on the other side. One of those odd and somehow creepy morning cartoon deals that had the kids yammering and squealing, Eve imagined.

Who made those things?

A high-pitched girly voice called out for mommy so clearly, the door itself might’ve been made of paper.

The locks thunked, and the door scraped and groaned as it opened.

She’d been pretty once, Eve thought at her first in-person study of Suzanne Custer. She might be pretty again, given decent nutrition, reasonable sleep, a break from stress. As Eve didn’t see those elements in her future, she thought Suzanne’s pretty days were long over.

She looked exhausted, pale, too thin, as if the meat under her skin had been gnawed away. Her dull, listless hair had been pulled back, leaving her tired face defenseless. A small, round-eyed kid of the male variety (probably) stood at her side.

“Detective Baxter.”

“Mrs. Custer. Hey there, Todd!” Baxter flashed a grin, shot the boy with his finger.

“We’re watching ’toons.”

“So I hear. Hi, Maizie.”

The little girl had a year or two on her brother, and the soft prettiness that had once been her mother’s. She sent Baxter a big, beaming smile.

“I’m sorry.” Suzanne shoved at her hair, then reached down to wrap her arm around her son’s shoulders. “We’re a little disorganized this morning. I was…just cleaning up after breakfast, before I take the kids to practice. Is this…do you have any…Can this wait until later?”

“I’m afraid it can’t, Mrs. Custer.” Eve edged Baxter aside, and all but felt his annoyed frown. “We have a number of things to clear up, and we’ll need to handle this at Central.”

“At Central? But-”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Custer.” Baxter’s voice poured warm cream over quiet apology. “This is my lieutenant. As we’ve been unable to close your husband’s case in a timely manner, Lieutenant Dallas needs to see to some procedural matters.”

“At Central,” Eve said, clipping the words.

“But, my kids.”

“I don’t-”

“Lieutenant, please.” Baxter interrupted Eve, then eased forward toward Suzanne. “I can arrange to have them taken to practice, or you can bring them with you and we’ll see they’re supervised while we finish this up. Whichever you want.”

“I don’t know. I-”

“I can’t miss practice.” Cartoons forgotten, Maizie jumped up. “I just can’t. Mom, please!”

“Why don’t I take care of their transportation?” Baxter suggested. “And have a couple of officers stay with them. Then when we’re done, we’ll make sure you get to the field. Okay, LT?”

Eve only shrugged, as if she didn’t give a damn. “Make it fast. You’ve put enough time and department resources into this. I’ll wait outside.”

“Sorry about that,” Eve heard Baxter say as she walked away. “The lieutenant’s a stickler for procedure. I’ll try to fast-walk all this through.”

On the street, Eve checked in with Peabody. “Status?”

“Wallowing in smut. I had no idea there were so many devices designed to be inserted in orifices. Many are sold in variety and party packs. You can select one of forty-dollar value with any body piercing.”

“That’s a deal.”

“Well, it’s kind of tempting. McNab would wig in a completely excellent way. But seeing as I’m on duty…”

“Seeing as. But keep jabbering, Peabody, and I’ll give you a completely free piercing back at Central.”

“We have a clerk who recognized Suzanne Custer,” Peabody said quickly. “Made her right off. Said she remembered because she-Suzanne-looked so off the rails. She bought several of the items that match those on the Anders scene. The clerk didn’t want to bother checking on it, but she’s flirting with Trueheart.”

“Trueheart’s flirting with a smut shop clerk? What has Baxter done to that kid?”

“No, no, she’s doing the flirt thing. He’s turned all shades of red, but that’s worked for us.” Peabody grinned. “It is pretty damn cute. So she checked, and we’re getting the paperwork. Suzanne didn’t buy the rope here. But, she asked about it. They were out of the velvet bondage set. It’s a popular item, as we learned when we did the initial search.”

“Check the shops closest to your current location. And if you come back with any piercings, they better not be visible.”

“Ouch,” Peabody said as Eve clicked off.

Once she had Suzanne at Central, Eve left her in Interview to sweat for fifteen minutes and watched through the observation window.

“She’s terrified,” Baxter said.

“Good. It probably won’t take very long to break her down. You go in first, make your apologies for the mean old LT.” She glanced over as Mira stepped in.

“She looks worn down. Eaten up.” Her face impassive, Mira stepped closer to the glass. “Guilt would be a viable weapon on her. And her children, they’d be a vulnerable area. She’ll fear you the most,” she said to Eve. “The capable, powerful female-everything she’s not. The authority figure. As, I suspect, Ava Anders is to her. She’s accustomed to violence. It won’t frighten her overmuch. Nor will threats to her person, as she’s accustomed to those as well. She’s also used to being isolated, cut off from any support. So offers of friendship, understanding, support draw her in. Her children are her one accomplishment. She would sacrifice a great deal for them.”

“I need to make her flip on Ava.”

“She’ll need to believe you’re more powerful, and more dangerous than Ava.”

“I am, so she will. Go,” Eve told Baxter.

“The friendship offered by Ava,” Mira continued as Baxter stepped out, “the support, the bargain struck-if indeed one was-weigh heavily on Ava’s side. The power Ava has over her now is tremendous.”

“I know how to play her.” When Mira said nothing, Eve watched Baxter enter Interview, listened to him speak reassuringly to Suzanne. “I know what it’s like to be knocked around regular, isolated, held down so you believe it’s the only way. And I know how far you’ll go to make it stop.”

“She’s nothing like you, and neither are her circumstances.”

“No. But I know how to play her. Baxter, he feels for her. Decent men tend to feel for women like her.”

“But you don’t.”

“No, I don’t. She could’ve walked. Any time. Packed up, grabbed the kids and walked.” Studying Suzanne through the glass, Eve felt not a single twinge of sympathy. “You said she’d sacrifice for her kids, but what has she given them? What kind of life has she opened them to by letting them see, every day, that she’s so weak she’ll let their father slap her around, come and go as he pleases, spend his money on tricks instead of food. You don’t offset that with sports programs, Dr. Mira. That woman took the life of a stranger, the life of a good man, the man who offered her children hope. She did that rather than walk away.

“So yeah, I guess I do feel for her. I feel disgust. I’ve got no qualms about putting her away. I just want to make damn sure I put Ava Anders away with her.”

“Eve.” Mira put a hand on Eve’s arm as Eve started to step out. “There’s a difference between weak and evil.”

“Yeah, but there’s sure a lot of overlap.”

Eve entered Interview. “Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Baxter, Detective David, in Interview with Custer, Suzanne, in the matter of the murder of Custer, Ned, case number HC-20913, and any and all related events or crimes. Detective, have you read Mrs. Custer her rights?”

“No, Lieutenant.”

“Do so. For the record.”

He sighed. “Yes, sir. It’s a formality, Mrs. Custer. You have the right to remain silent.”

Fear widened Suzanne’s eyes, quickened her breath as Baxter recited the Revised Miranda. Eve took a seat at the table, slumped back. “Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?” she demanded.

“Yes, but-”

“Here’s something that strikes me, Suzanne. It just seems so damn handy that you’d be sitting at home trying to tag your cheating shitbag of a husband on his ’link while some unidentified hooker’s slitting his throat. What, were you going to ask him to bring home a jug of soy milk?”

“No. He was late. I just wanted to-”

“He was late a lot, wasn’t he? Did you whine on his voice mail every time he was late?”

“No, but-he promised. He promised he wouldn’t be. I said I’d leave him if he didn’t stop.”

“You were never going to leave him.” Eve allowed some of the disgust to eke into her voice. “You didn’t have the guts for that. And now you don’t have to. Instead he’s gone, and you’ve got that nice life insurance policy, the pension.”

“Come on, Lieutenant, ease off a little.”

She scorched Baxter with a look. “You’ve eased off plenty for both of us. Did you find some sap like the detective here to do it for you, Suzanne? Cozy yourself up to some guy who doesn’t slap you around, feels sorry for you. So he does this-” Eve pulled out a crime scene photo, tossed it onto the table. “So you can be free.”

“No.” Suzanne closed her eyes rather than look at the photo. “I didn’t want another man. I just wanted my husband to be a good man, a good father. My kids deserve a good home, a good father.”

“The money you’ve got coming in now, you can get them out of that rattrap. Where are you taking them, Suzanne?”

“I don’t know. I thought, I think, maybe south, maybe down to Arkansas with my sister. Out of the city. Away. I can’t think about it yet. Somewhere else, for a fresh start. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She looked imploringly at Baxter. “Nothing wrong with wanting a fresh start with my kids.”

“Of course not. It’s been rough on you here. Rough for a long time. It’d be good for the kids to get out of the city, somewhere with a lot of green. Anders has sports programs all over the country.”

She winced at the Anders name, looked away. “If I could get them in a good school, down south somewhere, the schools have teams. They have sports.”

“Are you going to give up the freebies?” Eve demanded. “The free equipment, camps, programs, the mom retreats. It’s been a pretty good deal for you, hasn’t it?” Eve flipped open a file. “You had a few nice vacations here, on the Anderses’ dime, didn’t you?”

“Seminars, and-and support groups.”

“Yeah, Thomas Anders gave you and your kids plenty. Too bad about him, huh?” Eve tossed another photo down, one of Thomas Anders dead in his bed.

Suzanne jerked away, dropped her head between her knees and gagged.

“Jesus, Lieutenant! Hey, hey,” Baxter laid a hand on Suzanne’s back. “Take it easy. Take it slow. Let me get you some water.”

“Let her puke.” Eve shoved out of her chair, then dropped down, pushing Suzanne’s head back until their eyes met. “Did it make you sick to do it? Did it curdle your guts to strip off his nice, neat pajamas, tie his hands and feet? Did your hands shake like they are now when you wrapped the rope around his neck? He didn’t give you any trouble, you saw to that. Put him under so you wouldn’t have to see the look in his eyes when he choked.”

“No.” Her eyes wheeled like an animal’s with its leg snapped in a trap. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You still screwed it up. You didn’t tie the rope tight enough, so it took him a long time to die. You didn’t do it the way she told you. She was so specific, but you couldn’t pull it off. Not like she did with Ned. Quick, clean, done. You got messy, you got weak. It looks like she’ll walk, and you’ll spend the rest of your life in a cage. An off-planet cage. You’ll never see your kids again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Detective Baxter, please make her stop.”

“For God’s sake, Dallas, let her breathe. Suzanne. Suzanne.” He eased down to sit on the edge of the table, took Suzanne’s trembling hand, looked into her eyes. “We know it was Ava’s idea. All of it. We know she planned it. If you tell us everything, all of it, maybe we can help you.”

“No, no. You’re trying to trick me. You’re trying to make me say things. She said you’d-”

“She said we’d try to block you in?” Eve finished. “She was right about that. But she told you we’d try to block you in on Ned’s murder and you were clear there. Nothing to worry about there. She didn’t figure this, did she? Neither of you figured this. I know what you did.”

Eve shoved Baxter aside, shoved her face into Suzanne’s. “I know you killed Thomas A. Anders. The man who paid for the equipment your kids are wearing right now. You selfish, heartless bitch.”

“That’s crazy. I didn’t even know him. A person doesn’t kill someone she doesn’t even know.”

“That’s what she told you? They’ll never suspect. She was wrong again, wasn’t she? Her mistakes, all her mistakes, and I’m going to make you pay for every one of them. I’m going to put you in a cage, Suzanne. Look at me!”

With one violent yank, she dragged Suzanne’s chair around. “I’m going to put you in, and she can’t stop me. She won’t try because you’re useless to her now. She’ll cry for the cameras and laugh behind closed doors because you’re too stupid to help yourself. And your kids? It’ll be strangers raising them now.”

“No. Please. God.”

“Lieutenant, come on. Give her a second. Suzanne. You need to tell us everything. If you cooperate, I can help you. I’ll talk to the PA.” Baxter reached down, squeezed her hand. “Maybe she pressured you or threatened you. Blackmailed you. Maybe you felt you didn’t have a choice.”

“I’m compiling evidence against her right now,” Eve broke in. “When I have enough, she’ll be in here. She’ll be the one turning on you. If she flips first, she’ll get the deal. Personally, I want both of you to live the rest of your miserable lives in an off-planet cage. You’ve got one minute. One to change my mind. After that, I’m done. You’re booked, murder in the first, and your kids are gone.”

“Please don’t, please! You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand, you weak, pathetic excuse for a human being. I know what you did. I know how you did it. I know why you did it. And you’ve got one shot to put it out your way or I’ll personally toss you in that cage and lock it.”

“Lieutenant, Lieutenant, give her a chance. Give her a minute. Help us understand,” Baxter said to Suzanne. “I want to understand, so I can help you.”

“I didn’t think it was going to be real!” Suzanne burst out. “I didn’t think it was real. And then it was. I didn’t know what else to do. She said I had to.”

“Spit it out,” Eve snapped. “Who said you had to what?”

Suzanne closed her eyes again. “Ava said I had to kill her husband because she’d killed mine. Just like we agreed.” Suzanne laid her head down on the table. “I’m so tired. I’m so tired now.”