Page 95 of Passions in Death
“Understood. You’ve been helpful, Angie. We appreciate you coming in, taking the time.”
“I feel… After saying all this, talking like this, it had to be a stranger after all. It doesn’t make sense. But neither does it being one of us.” She sighed. “And there goes the anger.”
“Save it for when we find who killed her. Detective Peabody and I will attend the memorial tomorrow if at all possible.”
“That would be good. I think it would be good for everyone to see you there, to know it matters—Erin matters—to you.”
“She does. Interview end. Detective Peabody will show you out.”
As before, Eve stayed where she was, added to her notes. Then rose when Peabody came back.
“Let’s log and file the recordings.”
“Sometimes you’re too close to see.”
“Yeah,” Eve agreed. “Neither of them can see one of them putting that wire around Erin Albright’s neck. Neither of them much like Lopez—personality thing—but they can’t see her doing it.”
“You do?”
“I can see it. Doesn’t mean she did it, but I can see it. And she slides into Mira’s quick profile neat enough. We’re going to do a run on all the names she gave us—the men who went with the group to the club. That connects to Lopez.”
As they started out, Peabody shook her head. “That snark at the club—about Erin liking the flexible? Nasty, and designed to cut Shauna, to piss her off not just at Lopez but at Erin.”
“Didn’t work.”
“Probably did a little, but she deflected. I haven’t even met Lopez yet, and I already don’t like her much.”
“You should have a chance tomorrow. She’ll probably be there. And whether or not it’s her, the killer’s likely to be there.”
She checked the time. “Look, I’ll do the runs, write this up. You go by the shoe store. Let’s see if Lopez ever came in—or anyone else in the group—and gave Shauna any trouble. I can’t see her not telling Becca if so, but maybe not.”
“You’re sending me to a shoe store! Solo!”
“I’m saving myself the aggravation of watching you drool on shoes before I have to kick my own footwear up your ass.”
“I’ll take care of the recordings, and maybe see how close McNab is to closing down. He doesn’t mind when I drool.”
“Just get it done. I think we have enough to justify another conversation with Lopez. After the memorial. Before, I think we talk to Stillwater again, and to Barney.”
“The first as a wit—observations, impressions—the second as suspect?”
“In that order, yeah.”
Eve turned into her office. With coffee, she sat first to write up the report—and decided what the hell, to copy Mira.
If/when you have a chance, I’d like your opinion. Both recordings are logged and filed. The victim’s memorial is tomorrow, and I expect to have more observations and conduct more interviews.
Appreciate any time you have. Dallas
Fishing, Eve thought as she started the runs. But if she put any credence in Angie’s opinion of who Erin might have asked—and she did—the pool had shrunk somewhat.
She had a friendship like theirs—the through and through sort. Mavis could have answered that question on the mark. Peabody, too, she decided. Partnership, when it worked, held intimacy.
God knew Roarke had that through and through, and still there were things Mavis knew he didn’t. Not secrets, but as Peabody had said, just things from before that hadn’t come up.
She remembered asking him once why he didn’t have a big-ass boat, since he had every-damn-thing. And he’d told her about a storm at sea during his smuggling days.
She hadn’t known because it had never come up before.
