Page 130 of Passions in Death
Now she heard Peabody coming.
“I saw Whitney as I was coming back. Is there a problem?”
“The mayor likes Abuela’s enchiladas.”
“Oh. Well, shit.”
Eve shook her head. “No real interference there.”
“Okay, good. Lopez is with her lawyer. The lawyer came in during booking. She was wearing Carminas.”
“Carmina’s what?”
“Shoes, Dallas. Carmina is a shoe designer, a goddess. These were a pale, pale blue. Stilettos with little cutouts on the sides shaped like butterflies. They’re going to run like five grand, easy.”
“I’m just thrilled to have a report on the lawyer’s footwear.”
“It’s relevant,” Peabody insisted. “If you can afford Carminas, and you’re wearing a suit that looks like it came right off the runway in Milan, you’re probably really good at your job.”
“She’ll probably bounce with community service and anger management.”
“That seems… fair.”
“It would be. Unless she pulls a judge who decides to dismiss the charges. There should be consequences, but that’s not our department. We did our job.”
“Yeah, but she didn’t kill Erin Albright.”
Eve gestured to the desk chair. “Take the chair, I’m not ready to sit yet.” And she programmed coffee for both of them.
“Why didn’t she kill Erin Albright?”
“Logistically,” Peabody began, “it would’ve been tricky. Not impossible, but tricky. It feels like if she was going to do it, she’d have found a less tricky time and place.”
Eve decided to counter, and make Peabody work for it.
“The time and place are part of the point of the killing. Ruining a celebration and destroying a dream at the same time.”
“Yeah, but… Lopez is a hard-ass with a goddess complex. ‘I’m so special, I’m so amazing. Look at me!’ And I can see her shoving a sharp into somebody’s throat. Or yeah, using a wire. But if she was going to do it, I think she’d have killed Shauna. And she’d have felt like she deserved to.”
“It’s Erin who rejected her. She probably hasn’t heard a lot of nos in her life, and Erin gave her a big no. And Shauna pays. And pays. And pays.”
Peabody frowned at her coffee, then frowned at the board. “Yeah, but… the way she broke down in Interview, what she said, how she said it. I really believe she loved Erin, or honestly thinks she did. And yeah, people kill what they love, and a lot, but this didn’t feel like the way for her.
“She runs hot, Dallas, really hot. And there had to be a lot of cold to plan out and execute this killing. Maybe a hot motive—the passion—but a cold execution.”
“Oh, she has plenty of cold in there.”
Deflated, Peabody set down her coffee. “You think she did it.”
“No, I don’t.”
Peabody looked up again, blinked. “You don’t? Why?”
“For all the reasons you cited, and a couple more. If she killed Erin, where’s the murder weapon? She didn’t have it on her, it wasn’t in the club. Sweepers went through dumpsters and recyclers, circled the block on that—which she’d have had to do if she had a bloody garrote on her.”
“I forgot that one. I shouldn’t have forgotten that one.”
“She could’ve ditched it somehow. Snipped the wire to pieces, flushed. Had to have handles, but it’s possible she found a way to destroy and dispose. Possible, but that’s a lot of thought, and it would take more time. Then she’s going to walk back into the club, slip in without notice, and keep partying?”
