Page 159 of Passions in Death
“Friends tend to do all of that. Good friends, real friends certainly do. Now, I’d like to leave. If you’d just contact Shauna—”
“We’ve talked to her already,” Peabody said. “And she couldn’t think of why you, or anyone, would take that box and the jewelry inside.”
That concerned him, Eve noted, as his eyes darted away.
“Because you haven’t let me talk to her, explain to her. As I think I’ve clearly explained to you.”
“So you took it upon yourself to go into her bedroom—without her knowledge or permission—go through her dresser—without her knowledge or permission—remove a box containing jewelry—without her knowledge or permission. Then hid same in your own bedroom, in your own dresser. That’s your explanation for stealing?”
She could actually see the muscles in his face tighten.
“You’re being deliberately obtuse.” His tone, deeply patronizing, carried an edge of ripe temper.
“Obtuse and flighty? I wonder what’s next.”
“I simply didn’t want Shauna to do something she’d regret. And given her emotional state—”
“Are you her therapist, too?” Peabody widened her eyes. “A man of many facets.”
“Oh, blow me.”
When that edge went jagged, the smile Eve held inside was broad and fierce.
“Sorry,” Peabody countered. “Performing sexual acts in Interview is frowned upon.”
“This is bullshit. I was acting in the best interest of a friend who tends to act on impulse and emotion in the best of times. Which these clearly aren’t. Now, I’m done with this. I’m leaving.”
“Sit your ass down.”
The whiplash in Eve’s voice had him jerking.
“We’re in charge here,” she reminded him.
He sat, but eyed her with derision. “You won’t be when this is over. Trust me on that.”
“I’m a police lieutenant with a dozen years behind my badge. Do you think I’m afraid of some guy who sells overpriced ties? Some guy who steals some cheap jewelry from a friend and hides it in his sock drawer?”
“I manage a well-respected men’s store that caters to a discerning clientele. And the jewelry I gave Shauna wasn’t cheap. It may not compare to that rock around your neck, but it wasn’t cheap. It was appropriate.”
“This?” Deliberately, she lifted the diamond by its chain. “I just wear this for sentiment.” Which was absolute truth, she thought as she dropped it under her shirt.
“So you stole and secreted this—appropriate—jewelry because you were looking out for your impulsive, emotional friend’s best interest?”
“I removed them to safekeeping for Shauna’s best interest, yes.”
“You like to decide what’s in others’ best interest. Such as…” She opened the file. “LeRoy Vic, a former assistant manager at your place of employment. You decided it wasn’t in his best interest to move to Brooklyn with his pregnant wife and take the manager’s position at another store—and took steps to prevent that.”
“What is this!” Outrage sizzled, and burned two spots of color in his cheeks. “You dug up a former employee—a classically disgruntled employee—to try to undermine me? He wasn’t ready for the position and lacked the necessary leadership qualities to—”
“But served as your assistant manager?”
“Assistant is key,” Barney snapped back. “I was doing my best to groom him, mentor him. A few more years under my supervision, and—”
“His sales were excellent, and his previous evaluations prior to this desired move? Also excellent.”
“He wasn’t ready.” Barney did the chin-jut thing again, and this time folded his arms. “And what does my decision as a manager have to do with any of this?”
“In your capacity as manager, you also decided what was best for Sharlene Wilson.”
