Page 127 of Passions in Death
But she did, Eve thought. Now that the bravado, some of the Dutch courage wore thin, and the situation took hold, she gave more than a shit.
“Then, again, you shouldn’t give one about an interview.”
Taking Lopez by the arm, Eve led her out of the elevator on Homicide’s level.
“Want something to drink?” she asked easily.
“Vodka martini, very dry, two olives.”
“Yeah, we’ll get that for you in about never. How about some water, Peabody, all around?”
“Yes, sir.”
As Peabody peeled off, Lopez sneered. “Figures you’d go by ‘sir,’ like a man.”
“Does it? Funny, I think of it as genderless respect, but it takes all kinds.” She opened the door to Interview B. “Have a seat. Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, entering Interview with Lopez, ChiChi, on the matter of H-7823, and due to assault charges pending. Were you read your rights regarding those assault charges, Ms. Lopez?”
“Yeah, and assault’s bullshit. You know it’s bullshit.”
“On the contrary, I personally witnessed your assault on Shauna Hunnicut roughly twenty minutes ago.”
“So I slapped the bitch. She’s earned worse.”
“Note that the accused has admitted to said assault. Peabody, Detective Delia, entering Interview. And how has Ms. Hunnicut earned worse than a slap?”
“Erin’s dead, isn’t she?”
Teeth bared, she snarled it out.
“Are you accusing Ms. Hunnicut of killing Erin Albright?”
“Like she’d have the guts, or the spine, or the smarts.”
Gingerly, Lopez pressed the ice pack Peabody offered against her jaw.
“But she’s the reason,” ChiChi continued. “It’s her fault. It’s all her fault.”
Eve cracked her tube of water, took a casual sip. “Since we’re all sitting here, how about you explain how Erin’s death is Shauna’s fault.”
“You didn’t know her, all right? You didn’t know Erin.”
“But you did,” Peabody said, her voice as gentle as Lopez’s was strident.
“You’re goddamn right I knew her. She was bright and bold, really fearless. She had passion. Real passion. For her art, for life, for living life. Up for anything, that was Erin. Always on the go, always doing, looking, being. Shauna killed all that. She killed all of that before somebody finished the job.”
“How?”
Those dark eyes bored into Eve’s. “She manipulated her. Playing at the romance, all of it. Suddenly, Erin’s staying home instead of partying. She’s working on her art, sure, but she’s not fucking living. Doesn’t go out, starts hanging with those lame friends of Shauna’s. It’s all Shauna, Shauna, Shauna, all the damn time.”
“And not you. Not after Shauna.”
“Tells me to lay off Shauna. ‘Oh, come on, ChiChi, don’t be bitchy.’ Says how happy she is, but bullshit. Laughs it off when I make a move on her, the way she used to like.”
“That must’ve hurt.” Peabody’s eyes shined with sympathy.
“Fucking A, it hurt, but it showed me just how Shauna twisted her up. Like the two of us can’t have sex anymore? Like she can’t swing by the club for some laughs? No, oh no, they’re saving money for a nice fucking sofa? Then, Jesus, they’re getting married? What the serious fuck!”
“You resented all that,” Eve said. “Who could blame you? You and Erin had something. Then Shauna got in the way.”
