Page 106 of Passions in Death
“Okay, she didn’t like Shauna. At least Shauna told me she didn’t, and Shauna didn’t much like her back. I think she told me rather than Becca or Erin because, well, I’m not one of the girls. Shauna didn’t want to make waves. ChiChi was Erin’s friend, and she didn’t want to cause trouble between them.”
He shrugged. “I figured the same. Why muck things up? And told her I thought it would smooth out as time went. You don’t think ChiChi—”
“I’m just gathering impressions. What about Greg Barney?”
“I know him better. Nice guy. We don’t hang much, but he’s a nice guy. Really into fashion, schedules, but that’s what he does. He and Becca have a good rhythm. He’s like a big brother with Shauna, from my POV. Sometimes it crowded her—she told me—but he meant well. They had a thing back in high school.”
“I’m aware.”
“But there wasn’t any animosity, not that I ever saw, or she ever told me. I think she would have. She and Becca are really tight. More good rhythm. That wouldn’t happen if there were old scars, you know what I mean? So no scars, my impression, but a bond, between all three.”
“He’s aware you and Shauna had a sexual relationship?”
“Sure.” Now he sat in a black scoop chair. “He didn’t have a problem with it—not that I could tell anyway. Even when Shauna and I weren’t planning on having sex, the four of us went out sometimes. To dinner, a club, just for drinks. He treated her more like a sister than an ex.”
“Okay.”
She took him through others in the group, to round it out. And decided he was observant, fairly insightful.
“I appreciate the time,” she said when Roarke came in and walked to the wine cabinet. “It helps to get different perspectives on Erin’s circle of friends.”
“She had a wide one, and a good one, I think. I expect all of them will be at the memorial tomorrow. Shauna’s going in with her parents and Erin’s. I’m going to try to go in with Angie and Donna if I can juggle some things.”
“Detective Peabody and I plan to come, pay our respects. Again, thanks for your time.”
“Anything that helps, just let me know. She was my friend, too.”
“I know, and I will. Goodbye.”
Eve clicked off, sat back.
“Was that helpful?”
“Maybe. Maybe.”
He opened a chilled bottle of sauvignon blanc. “You think you know.”
“What I think I know toggles, but it’s started to settle. I want my own impressions tomorrow at the memorial. Either way, it’s a stupid fucking murder.”
He poured two glasses, brought one to her. “Have some wine. Pace about with it as you need to. I’ll see to dinner.”
“There were vegetables in the pasta salad.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He went into the kitchen, followed by the hopeful cat.
Eve pushed up, and drank some wine.
And paced about.
Chapter Sixteen
She kept pacing when he brought in plates.
“It’s mean.”
“Murder?” He set the plates on the table by the balcony doors. As they both enjoyed the air, he opened them before turning to her. “It is, yes.”
