In death 59 passions i.., p.20
In Death 59 - Passions in Death, page 20
Angie pressed her lips together, and her voice went raw. “She didn’t have a chance. That’s so much worse than a stranger, so much worse. And I want you to bury them.”
She shuddered again, then her shoulders stilled, straightened. “And there it is. There’s the anger. Welcome back.”
“Who?”
Angie’s eyes, dark and hot now, met Eve’s. “If I had even the faintest glimmer of an idea, I’d tell you. She was—she was my person, Lieutenant. The person who meant more to me than anyone in the world.”
“All right. Who do you think she would have asked after Donna went to Baltimore—or maybe after Donna let her know she might have to go and miss the party?”
“I’m stuck there, too. I think she didn’t ask me or Becca—and those would be my first guesses—because she didn’t want to load on. And in Becca’s case, maybe because Becca might slip—not tell Shauna, but tell me because we were planning it all, or say something to Greg the way you do with a partner. Becca would be the first to tell you she’s not always an impenetrable vault with secrets and surprises. But any of us, really.”
“All right, try this. Who wouldn’t she ask—most likely,” Eve added.
“Oh, well. Glenda, because Glenda would be in Europe. Probably not Jodi, as Jodi’s so damn busy. Wanda’s unlikely because also busy. Kaydee because of just what happened—ER doctors have to handle emergencies.”
She named a few more. Moved across town, crazy workload, not altogether reliable.
“I don’t know all of Shauna’s friends well enough to say either way. Erin got to know some of them better than I did over the past year.”
“You’ve still formed a pretty tight group,” Peabody commented.
“Yes, we have. I like these women, and it’s hard to think one of them did this.”
“Wanda and Erin had a sexual relationship.”
“They did, briefly and nothing serious on either side. And honestly, I can’t see Erin asking her for something like this when she knows Wanda’s crowded schedule.”
“She also had a sexual relationship with ChiChi Lopez.”
“Yes.” Angie drank more water. “Yes, she did. Erin certainly wasn’t serious about it. I’ve never known her to be really serious before Shauna.”
“Was ChiChi serious?”
Angie set down the tube, folded her hands together on the table. “It’s hard to say what ChiChi takes seriously. You want to know if Erin might have asked her, and I suppose it’s possible.”
“They maintained a friendship?”
“Yes.”
“Do you consider Lopez a friend?”
“Erin did.” Angie unclasped her hands. “ChiChi is … can be difficult. We have certain things in common. We both grew up with certain advantages—a successful family who provided emotional and financial safety nets. ChiChi has a very loving relationship with her family, as I do with mine. She has a solid work ethic, and I like to think I do as well.”
Eve smiled. “But?”
“All right, every answer to every question helps. ChiChi’s either wired to or really just enjoys shooting out sharp little arrows. She’s judgmental, and can be harsh—deliberately harsh. She’d sometimes take shots at Donna because Donna and Erin were close. Donna wouldn’t tell Erin.”
“But she’d tell you?”
“She would, because ChiChi often took shots at me for the same reason. I could and did ignore them. Donna’s more tender.”
“So, territorial.”
“Yes, that’s a good term. And ego. ‘I need to be the center of your world. Look at me.’”
“She couldn’t have been thrilled about Shauna.”
“No. She put on a good act, but no. At the same time, she had strong, proprietary feelings for Erin. I sincerely can’t see her hurting Erin like this. If it had been Shauna in that room? I could see it—what’s it called? Crime of passion. I could see her hurting Shauna.”
“Did you see her, or anyone, slip out of the room between eleven-thirty and eleven-forty-five?”
“Something else I’ve thought about countless times. I just didn’t notice. Becca and Shauna were putting on a hell of a show. Jodi was up there, at least for a while, and a few others. But it was Becca and Shauna. So out of character for both of them, so just more entertaining. I was in the crowd of us, sort of half dancing, but mostly watching them and making noise. I figured Erin was, too.”
She looked down at the table. “I didn’t really think about it, and was congratulating myself for having helped plan the party that would be the queen of parties for months.”
“How about people outside the group of women she might have asked?”
“Oh.” Frowning, Angie narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t think of that. I don’t see her asking her other studio mates. Anton’s a bit of a prick, and Roy’s rarely around. She—we, really—got to be good friends with Marcus—Marcus Stillwater. He loves Shauna, and he clearly came to love Erin. Shauna and Marcus go back. I could see her asking him, but again, sincerely, can’t see him hurting Erin. Or anyone.”
She paused a moment, rubbed her temple as she thought.
“There’s their across-the-hall neighbors. The—God, need a second. Burgers. Yeah, the Burgers. Erin gave their kid a few art lessons—gratis. But I don’t really see that, and why would either of them kill her? There’s Clint—he’s with Jodi, and Erin knew him better than I did, but I can’t see why she’d ask him. And there’s Greg—you met him. Becca’s guy—who dated Shauna back in high school. Like Marcus, I can see Erin asking him, but can’t see him hurting her.”
“Becca mentioned both Marcus and Greg were surprised when Shauna and Erin got together.”
“Oh? Well, I’m not surprised they were surprised. I was, too. But more worried, actually. That Erin would get her heart broken. Not that Shauna would do that deliberately, but that Erin was more of a fling for her.
“I realized differently pretty quick. So did everyone.”
“You never had a sexual or romantic relationship with Erin?”
“No. I like men for that.”
“So did Shauna.”
Angie let out a half laugh. “That’s true. I’ll say Erin and I never had that feeling between us—and a friendship that was so strong. I haven’t met a woman who’s brought me that feeling. That would be one of the reasons I worried this was a fling for Shauna.”
“Would you say there are any of those feelings with either Marcus or Greg for Shauna?”
“Marcus and Shauna—that was never romance. It was no-strings, no-worries friend sex. I’d like to find a friend like that myself. Greg’s got Becca, and from my viewpoint, they really work. I can’t imagine him still having feelings like that for Shauna. It’s more brotherly, from what I see. Sort of big brother, though they’re the same age.”
“Becca mentioned you all went to see Lopez perform at her club.”
“Yeah, we did, last fall maybe. I think about then.”
“How many of these men were in that group?”
“Oh, well, let me think. Not Marcus. Greg was, and Jodi’s guy, and a few others who are in relationships.”
She shut her eyes, thought, then named four other men.
“I think that’s it.”
“Did Lopez join the group after her performance?”
“For a while—she had another couple acts, but she came out awhile. I remember somebody said something about how she was mega flexible, and right in front of Shauna, she rubbed against Erin and said how Erin always liked that about her.”
Scowling, Angie nudged the tube of water aside. “It was crude and uncalled for. But Shauna? She just laughed, then bent her leg up behind her—grabbed her ankle and bent her leg up over her head. And said like ‘Me, too.’”
The scowl turned into a smile. “I fell in love with her for that. I liked she set a tone. ‘You don’t bother me, sister.’ And I’m afraid I’m giving you the wrong impression, because ChiChi often rubs me wrong. It’s a personality thing. But again, there’s no way I can see her hurting Erin. As much as she’s capable, she loves Erin. Loved her.”
“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.
But credence or not, she did the runs, as it was possible the killer had a partner.
Once done, she decided to either close that door or open it a crack wider and contacted all four.
Routine inquiry, blah blah.
Two served as each other’s alibi. Poker game, monthly deal—with three others. Broke up at midnight.
Easily checked and verified, so she did.
The third worked the night shift as an MT—also easily checked and verified.
The last, no longer with the woman he’d been with at the club, claimed to be home, in bed. But not alone.
Eve checked and verified.
Smaller pool, Eve thought as she rose. Her gut told her Lopez and Barney remained most likely. And so had Angie Decker’s take on her friend.
She headed down to the garage and decided she’d swing by the victim’s apartment, see if she could talk to those neighbors. Impressions again of who visited, how often.
She didn’t have far to go, but the traffic made it feel a lot farther. She found parking, considered it a bonus, and walked through the hot August evening toward the apartment building.
A lot of sweaty people had ended their workday, headed for happy hour or home, an after-work appointment, an early vid with a friend. She hoped the Burgers had ended their workday and chosen home.
She mastered into the building and headed up.
Plenty in the building, from the sound of it, had chosen home. No baby screaming this time, but an older kid’s maniacal laughter that reminded her of Bella.
And reminded her about the damn chair she had to make sure about before Mavis’s second kid came along.
When the hell was that, and how could she get out of witnessing another birth and having those images burned freshly in her brain?
“Don’t think about it,” she muttered, and came out on the fourth floor.
Since she heard another kid proclaiming loudly that she pooped in the toilet, which was followed by adult cheers and applause, she figured her luck was in.
The woman who answered the buzz had short blond hair, wore a black linen dress that had wilted some, and had bare feet. Eve could smell whatever was for dinner—and decided Chinese takeout.
“Can I help you?”
Eve held up her badge; before she could speak, the woman glanced back.
“Allen, I need to step into the hall with the p-o-l-i-c-e.” She eased the door shut but for a crack. “This is about Erin. We’re sick about it. I don’t want our daughters to hear yet. They’re too young.”
“Daddy, wipe my butt!”
“Potty training,” Ms. Burger said. “She’s very proud. So are we.”
“Okay.”
“It’s just awful. She was a sweetheart. Both of them. Erin gave Trixie art lessons.” Burger smiled. “Our older girl. She’s six. It was so sweet of Erin to take the time.”
“Since you live across the hall, you might have noticed visitors.”
“Some, sure. They had a lot of friends. No loud parties, which we appreciate. I mean we could hear some—the soundproofing doesn’t exist here—but they weren’t obnoxious.”
“This is just a routine inquiry. Can I show you some photos? Just to get a sense who visited, how often?”
“Sure. Oh yes.” Burger studied Angie’s ID shot. “What’s her name? Andi—no, Angie. Angie and the other—pretty hair. Becca! They were here a lot, especially in the last few months. Helping with the wedding.”
She stopped, teared up a little. “Oh, it’s so awful. I haven’t seen Shauna since it happened, but I just want to hug her. Becca’s been by—she told me what happened—to get some of her things. And the—God—their wedding dresses.”
“Yes. How about this one?”
Burger studied Lopez. “I think so, yes. Not like the other two. But I remember riding up on the elevator with her.” She shrugged. “A little snooty, which Erin and Shauna aren’t.”
Eve went through the photos, got positives, negatives, then brought up Barney’s.
“Sure, sure. Sometimes with the one with the pretty hair—Becca. I think they’re together. Sometimes by himself. Sharp dresser, that one. I remember. I rode up with him and Shauna just last week, I think.”
“The two of them?”
“Yes. I guess we all got off work at about the same time. Her work’s not far from here. I guess it was about twenty minutes later when they went out again. I rode down with them—she’d changed her clothes. It was my turn to do the laundry, so I ended up riding down with them after I changed mine. We laughed about it.
“I was heading down to the laundry, and they were heading out to meet their cohabs for dinner. I said I’d rather go to dinner with them, something like that. Seems to me he’d walk home with her now and then. I think Erin said they’d been friends since high school. That’s sweet.”
“Yeah, well, thanks. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening.”
“It’s no problem at all. I really liked her. Both of them. Just the kind of neighbors you want. I hope you find who did this.”
Eve waited until she’d gone in, then turned to look across the hall. She’d heard movement in there, and debated going in or just waiting.
She didn’t have to decide, as the door opened.
Greg Barney stepped out carrying a large, lidded box.
He jolted, blinked, then let out a breath. “Jesus, you startled me. Did you need to go inside again? We thought you were done, but I can let you in.”
“That’s all right, just a routine check on my way home. What’s in the box?”
“Oh, stuff from the friggie, the AC. Becca thought of it—she thinks of things. Since Shauna doesn’t want to come back, Becca said we should clear those out. Not that much in there, really.”
He glanced back. “It doesn’t even feel like their place anymore. It already feels empty, even though the furniture’s there, and dishes and all that. Becca’s been coming by to get things for Shauna. And Angie’s going to help Erin’s family get her things.”
He looked back at Eve. “The memorial’s tomorrow.”
“Yes, I know. Shauna’s lucky to have friends who’d do this sort of thing for her.”
“It’s nothing. A quick stop after work. She doesn’t even want this.” He shifted the box. “Becca said just take it to our place. We can do the food bank thing or something. It’s not that much.”
He shifted his feet, shifted the box.
She shuddered again, then her shoulders stilled, straightened. “And there it is. There’s the anger. Welcome back.”
“Who?”
Angie’s eyes, dark and hot now, met Eve’s. “If I had even the faintest glimmer of an idea, I’d tell you. She was—she was my person, Lieutenant. The person who meant more to me than anyone in the world.”
“All right. Who do you think she would have asked after Donna went to Baltimore—or maybe after Donna let her know she might have to go and miss the party?”
“I’m stuck there, too. I think she didn’t ask me or Becca—and those would be my first guesses—because she didn’t want to load on. And in Becca’s case, maybe because Becca might slip—not tell Shauna, but tell me because we were planning it all, or say something to Greg the way you do with a partner. Becca would be the first to tell you she’s not always an impenetrable vault with secrets and surprises. But any of us, really.”
“All right, try this. Who wouldn’t she ask—most likely,” Eve added.
“Oh, well. Glenda, because Glenda would be in Europe. Probably not Jodi, as Jodi’s so damn busy. Wanda’s unlikely because also busy. Kaydee because of just what happened—ER doctors have to handle emergencies.”
She named a few more. Moved across town, crazy workload, not altogether reliable.
“I don’t know all of Shauna’s friends well enough to say either way. Erin got to know some of them better than I did over the past year.”
“You’ve still formed a pretty tight group,” Peabody commented.
“Yes, we have. I like these women, and it’s hard to think one of them did this.”
“Wanda and Erin had a sexual relationship.”
“They did, briefly and nothing serious on either side. And honestly, I can’t see Erin asking her for something like this when she knows Wanda’s crowded schedule.”
“She also had a sexual relationship with ChiChi Lopez.”
“Yes.” Angie drank more water. “Yes, she did. Erin certainly wasn’t serious about it. I’ve never known her to be really serious before Shauna.”
“Was ChiChi serious?”
Angie set down the tube, folded her hands together on the table. “It’s hard to say what ChiChi takes seriously. You want to know if Erin might have asked her, and I suppose it’s possible.”
“They maintained a friendship?”
“Yes.”
“Do you consider Lopez a friend?”
“Erin did.” Angie unclasped her hands. “ChiChi is … can be difficult. We have certain things in common. We both grew up with certain advantages—a successful family who provided emotional and financial safety nets. ChiChi has a very loving relationship with her family, as I do with mine. She has a solid work ethic, and I like to think I do as well.”
Eve smiled. “But?”
“All right, every answer to every question helps. ChiChi’s either wired to or really just enjoys shooting out sharp little arrows. She’s judgmental, and can be harsh—deliberately harsh. She’d sometimes take shots at Donna because Donna and Erin were close. Donna wouldn’t tell Erin.”
“But she’d tell you?”
“She would, because ChiChi often took shots at me for the same reason. I could and did ignore them. Donna’s more tender.”
“So, territorial.”
“Yes, that’s a good term. And ego. ‘I need to be the center of your world. Look at me.’”
“She couldn’t have been thrilled about Shauna.”
“No. She put on a good act, but no. At the same time, she had strong, proprietary feelings for Erin. I sincerely can’t see her hurting Erin like this. If it had been Shauna in that room? I could see it—what’s it called? Crime of passion. I could see her hurting Shauna.”
“Did you see her, or anyone, slip out of the room between eleven-thirty and eleven-forty-five?”
“Something else I’ve thought about countless times. I just didn’t notice. Becca and Shauna were putting on a hell of a show. Jodi was up there, at least for a while, and a few others. But it was Becca and Shauna. So out of character for both of them, so just more entertaining. I was in the crowd of us, sort of half dancing, but mostly watching them and making noise. I figured Erin was, too.”
She looked down at the table. “I didn’t really think about it, and was congratulating myself for having helped plan the party that would be the queen of parties for months.”
“How about people outside the group of women she might have asked?”
“Oh.” Frowning, Angie narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t think of that. I don’t see her asking her other studio mates. Anton’s a bit of a prick, and Roy’s rarely around. She—we, really—got to be good friends with Marcus—Marcus Stillwater. He loves Shauna, and he clearly came to love Erin. Shauna and Marcus go back. I could see her asking him, but again, sincerely, can’t see him hurting Erin. Or anyone.”
She paused a moment, rubbed her temple as she thought.
“There’s their across-the-hall neighbors. The—God, need a second. Burgers. Yeah, the Burgers. Erin gave their kid a few art lessons—gratis. But I don’t really see that, and why would either of them kill her? There’s Clint—he’s with Jodi, and Erin knew him better than I did, but I can’t see why she’d ask him. And there’s Greg—you met him. Becca’s guy—who dated Shauna back in high school. Like Marcus, I can see Erin asking him, but can’t see him hurting her.”
“Becca mentioned both Marcus and Greg were surprised when Shauna and Erin got together.”
“Oh? Well, I’m not surprised they were surprised. I was, too. But more worried, actually. That Erin would get her heart broken. Not that Shauna would do that deliberately, but that Erin was more of a fling for her.
“I realized differently pretty quick. So did everyone.”
“You never had a sexual or romantic relationship with Erin?”
“No. I like men for that.”
“So did Shauna.”
Angie let out a half laugh. “That’s true. I’ll say Erin and I never had that feeling between us—and a friendship that was so strong. I haven’t met a woman who’s brought me that feeling. That would be one of the reasons I worried this was a fling for Shauna.”
“Would you say there are any of those feelings with either Marcus or Greg for Shauna?”
“Marcus and Shauna—that was never romance. It was no-strings, no-worries friend sex. I’d like to find a friend like that myself. Greg’s got Becca, and from my viewpoint, they really work. I can’t imagine him still having feelings like that for Shauna. It’s more brotherly, from what I see. Sort of big brother, though they’re the same age.”
“Becca mentioned you all went to see Lopez perform at her club.”
“Yeah, we did, last fall maybe. I think about then.”
“How many of these men were in that group?”
“Oh, well, let me think. Not Marcus. Greg was, and Jodi’s guy, and a few others who are in relationships.”
She shut her eyes, thought, then named four other men.
“I think that’s it.”
“Did Lopez join the group after her performance?”
“For a while—she had another couple acts, but she came out awhile. I remember somebody said something about how she was mega flexible, and right in front of Shauna, she rubbed against Erin and said how Erin always liked that about her.”
Scowling, Angie nudged the tube of water aside. “It was crude and uncalled for. But Shauna? She just laughed, then bent her leg up behind her—grabbed her ankle and bent her leg up over her head. And said like ‘Me, too.’”
The scowl turned into a smile. “I fell in love with her for that. I liked she set a tone. ‘You don’t bother me, sister.’ And I’m afraid I’m giving you the wrong impression, because ChiChi often rubs me wrong. It’s a personality thing. But again, there’s no way I can see her hurting Erin. As much as she’s capable, she loves Erin. Loved her.”
“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.
But credence or not, she did the runs, as it was possible the killer had a partner.
Once done, she decided to either close that door or open it a crack wider and contacted all four.
Routine inquiry, blah blah.
Two served as each other’s alibi. Poker game, monthly deal—with three others. Broke up at midnight.
Easily checked and verified, so she did.
The third worked the night shift as an MT—also easily checked and verified.
The last, no longer with the woman he’d been with at the club, claimed to be home, in bed. But not alone.
Eve checked and verified.
Smaller pool, Eve thought as she rose. Her gut told her Lopez and Barney remained most likely. And so had Angie Decker’s take on her friend.
She headed down to the garage and decided she’d swing by the victim’s apartment, see if she could talk to those neighbors. Impressions again of who visited, how often.
She didn’t have far to go, but the traffic made it feel a lot farther. She found parking, considered it a bonus, and walked through the hot August evening toward the apartment building.
A lot of sweaty people had ended their workday, headed for happy hour or home, an after-work appointment, an early vid with a friend. She hoped the Burgers had ended their workday and chosen home.
She mastered into the building and headed up.
Plenty in the building, from the sound of it, had chosen home. No baby screaming this time, but an older kid’s maniacal laughter that reminded her of Bella.
And reminded her about the damn chair she had to make sure about before Mavis’s second kid came along.
When the hell was that, and how could she get out of witnessing another birth and having those images burned freshly in her brain?
“Don’t think about it,” she muttered, and came out on the fourth floor.
Since she heard another kid proclaiming loudly that she pooped in the toilet, which was followed by adult cheers and applause, she figured her luck was in.
The woman who answered the buzz had short blond hair, wore a black linen dress that had wilted some, and had bare feet. Eve could smell whatever was for dinner—and decided Chinese takeout.
“Can I help you?”
Eve held up her badge; before she could speak, the woman glanced back.
“Allen, I need to step into the hall with the p-o-l-i-c-e.” She eased the door shut but for a crack. “This is about Erin. We’re sick about it. I don’t want our daughters to hear yet. They’re too young.”
“Daddy, wipe my butt!”
“Potty training,” Ms. Burger said. “She’s very proud. So are we.”
“Okay.”
“It’s just awful. She was a sweetheart. Both of them. Erin gave Trixie art lessons.” Burger smiled. “Our older girl. She’s six. It was so sweet of Erin to take the time.”
“Since you live across the hall, you might have noticed visitors.”
“Some, sure. They had a lot of friends. No loud parties, which we appreciate. I mean we could hear some—the soundproofing doesn’t exist here—but they weren’t obnoxious.”
“This is just a routine inquiry. Can I show you some photos? Just to get a sense who visited, how often?”
“Sure. Oh yes.” Burger studied Angie’s ID shot. “What’s her name? Andi—no, Angie. Angie and the other—pretty hair. Becca! They were here a lot, especially in the last few months. Helping with the wedding.”
She stopped, teared up a little. “Oh, it’s so awful. I haven’t seen Shauna since it happened, but I just want to hug her. Becca’s been by—she told me what happened—to get some of her things. And the—God—their wedding dresses.”
“Yes. How about this one?”
Burger studied Lopez. “I think so, yes. Not like the other two. But I remember riding up on the elevator with her.” She shrugged. “A little snooty, which Erin and Shauna aren’t.”
Eve went through the photos, got positives, negatives, then brought up Barney’s.
“Sure, sure. Sometimes with the one with the pretty hair—Becca. I think they’re together. Sometimes by himself. Sharp dresser, that one. I remember. I rode up with him and Shauna just last week, I think.”
“The two of them?”
“Yes. I guess we all got off work at about the same time. Her work’s not far from here. I guess it was about twenty minutes later when they went out again. I rode down with them—she’d changed her clothes. It was my turn to do the laundry, so I ended up riding down with them after I changed mine. We laughed about it.
“I was heading down to the laundry, and they were heading out to meet their cohabs for dinner. I said I’d rather go to dinner with them, something like that. Seems to me he’d walk home with her now and then. I think Erin said they’d been friends since high school. That’s sweet.”
“Yeah, well, thanks. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening.”
“It’s no problem at all. I really liked her. Both of them. Just the kind of neighbors you want. I hope you find who did this.”
Eve waited until she’d gone in, then turned to look across the hall. She’d heard movement in there, and debated going in or just waiting.
She didn’t have to decide, as the door opened.
Greg Barney stepped out carrying a large, lidded box.
He jolted, blinked, then let out a breath. “Jesus, you startled me. Did you need to go inside again? We thought you were done, but I can let you in.”
“That’s all right, just a routine check on my way home. What’s in the box?”
“Oh, stuff from the friggie, the AC. Becca thought of it—she thinks of things. Since Shauna doesn’t want to come back, Becca said we should clear those out. Not that much in there, really.”
He glanced back. “It doesn’t even feel like their place anymore. It already feels empty, even though the furniture’s there, and dishes and all that. Becca’s been coming by to get things for Shauna. And Angie’s going to help Erin’s family get her things.”
He looked back at Eve. “The memorial’s tomorrow.”
“Yes, I know. Shauna’s lucky to have friends who’d do this sort of thing for her.”
“It’s nothing. A quick stop after work. She doesn’t even want this.” He shifted the box. “Becca said just take it to our place. We can do the food bank thing or something. It’s not that much.”
He shifted his feet, shifted the box.
