Page 43 of Passions in Death
“I will. But now I wish I hadn’t liked her right off. The way she and DiNuzio flanked Hunnicut, the way the three of them held together like a unit.”
“And all that might be true. But somebody Albright knew and trusted killed her.”
On four they walked to the apartment. Good locks, Eve noted, a door cam with intercom. The door opened before she could knock.
The male voice, she assumed. He came in just over six feet, about a hundred and seventy, a leanly muscled build in black pants, a pale-blue-and-gray pin-striped dress shirt open at the collar, rolled to the elbows.
Caucasian, and another vid-star handsome with a clean-shaven angular face, short, wavy brown hair and deep-set, deep brown eyes shadowed with fatigue.
“Lieutenant, Detective, please come in. I’m Greg, Greg Barney. We’re… we’re all in the living room.”
He led them down a short entrance hall into a spacious living area with large windows offering a street view.
Shauna sat on a cream-colored couch, a rose-colored pillow pressed to her middle with one arm. Her other hand clung to Donna Fleschner’s.
“They said I could come,” Donna said quickly. “I wanted to come.”
“That’s fine,” Eve told her.
Angie rose from the facing love seat, stepped to the side. “Please come in, sit down. I was going to make coffee, but no one wanted any. I can make coffee.”
“We’re fine.”
As she crossed the room, Eve gauged the tableau. Stylish furniture—muted backdrop with bold splashes of color.
Some of the art on the wall had to be Erin Albright’s; even Eve recognized the style.
Becca sat on the arm of the sofa on Shauna’s other side.
Shauna, ghost pale, her red hair pulled back and rolled into a knot at the base of her neck. She wore a black dress, one a bit too big on her.
Greg stood, his hands going in and out of his pockets as if they didn’t know where to settle.
“I went by the deli. I’ve got lunch meat and sides. Shauna, let me make you a sandwich.”
“Not now, Greg. Not now.”
“You need to eat,” he insisted. “I got the pastrami you like. I’ll make you a sandwich.”
She just shook her head. “Maybe later.”
Becca rose, went over to take his hand. “Sit, babe. Stop hovering and sit.” She nudged him into a chair, then sat on that arm with a hand on his shoulder.
Shauna let out a long sigh. “Nobody knows exactly what to do right now. We all had something to do before. We needed to go see Erin. We went to see her in that place. And Erin’s parents. We all went to see her, and Mr.—I mean Dr.… I can’t remember his name, but he was very, very kind. But you know how people say at a funeral or memorial, how she looks like she’s sleeping?”
Shauna’s hollow, bruised eyes met Eve’s. “It’s not true. She didn’t look like she does when she’s asleep. It’s not true.”
“No,” Eve said, “it’s not.”
“Erin’s mom and dad—I thought they should plan the memorial. I thought that was the right thing. But they wanted me to have a part of that, and I asked if we could have our wedding flowers and some of the music. I thought Erin would want that. I don’t know. Everybody thought so, too, but I don’t know for sure. Do you think that’s the right thing?”
“I think it’s beautiful,” Peabody said. “I think it’s exactly the right thing.”
“It feels like the right thing, but nothing really feels right. I can’t imagine it ever will.”
“Ms. Hunnicut—”
“Shauna.”
