by J. D. Robb
Eve went back to the parlor. Anna Whitney sat beside Carol, an elegant guard dog. MacMasters sat at her other side, kept her hand clutched in his. Whitney stood, staring out the front window.
Mrs. Whitney looked over first and Eve saw, briefly, the guard dog unguarded. Abject grief burned in her eyes, and with it a plea Eve read clearly.
Help us.
MacMasters straightened when Eve came in, going ramrod straight.
“I’m sorry to intrude. I know this is a very difficult time.”
“Do you have children?” Carol asked dully.
“No, ma’am.”
“Then you can’t know, can you?”
“Carol.” MacMasters murmured it.
“You’re right,” Eve said as she sat across from the trio on the couch. “I can’t. But I know this, Mrs. MacMasters. I’ll do everything in my power to find the person responsible for what happened to your daughter. I’ll see to it that everything that can be done is done. I’ll take care of her, I promise you.”
“We left her alone, don’t you see? We left her.”
“You called her twice. You made sure she was as safe as it’s possible to make her,” Eve said even as Anna drew breath to speak. “It’s my job to observe and analyze, and from my observations at this point, you’re good and loving parents. You’re not responsible for this. I’m going to find the one who is. You can help me now by answering some questions.”
“We came back early. We were going to surprise her and all go out to a big holiday brunch, then to a matinee. She loved to go to the theater. We were going to surprise her.”
“When were you due home?”
“We’d originally planned to get home late this afternoon,” MacMasters answered. “We left Friday afternoon, took a shuttle to Inter lude, an inn in the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. Carol and I were taking a quiet weekend to celebrate my promotion.” He cleared his throat. “I made the reservations ten days ago. We’d been there as a family before, but . . .”
“Deena wanted us to have the trip by ourselves,” Carol managed. “We usually go together, but this time . . . We should have insisted she stay with the Jenningses. But, she’s almost seventeen, and so responsible. She’ll be going to college next year, so we thought, we just thought—”
“Are the Jenningses family friends?”
“Yes. Arthur and Melissa. Their daughter, Jo, is Deena’s best friend.” As she answered, Carol’s lips trembled. “Deena wanted to stay on her own, and we thought, we both thought we should respect that, trust her, allow her that independence. If—”
“Can you tell me the names of her other friends?”
Carol drew in a shuddering breath. “Jo, and Hilly Rowe, Libby Grogh from school. They’re the closest. And Jamie, Jamie Lingstrom.”
Eve went on alert. “The late DS Frank Wojinksi’s grandson?”
“Yes.” MacMasters nodded. “I was friendly with Frank, and Jamie and Deena have been friends for years.”
“Boyfriends?”
“Deena wasn’t interested in boys, not in that way, as yet.”
As MacMasters spoke, Eve caught the look in his wife’s eye. “Ma’am?”
“She was shy around boys, but interested. I think there was one in particular she liked.”
“Who?”
“She never said, not directly. But in the last couple of months she took more interest in how she looked, and . . . I’m not sure I can explain it, but I knew there was a boy who’d caught her eye and interest. Enough so that I had another talk with her about sex.”
MacMasters frowned at his wife, a look of bafflement more than annoyance. “You never said.”
She glanced at her husband, and her trembling lips tried to curve. “Some things are private, Jonah, and just between girls. She hadn’t been with a boy yet. I’d have known. And she’d have told me. We discussed birth control and safety. She knew I was ready to take her to the clinic should she want to choose a birth control method.”
“Do you know if she kept a diary?”
“More a journal or a notebook. She’d record thoughts, or observations, complaints, I imagine, sometimes bits of poetry or song lyrics.” As her eyes continued to stream, Carol dug for another tissue. “She loves music. She keeps it in her purse, always.”
“And she has a PPC, a ’link?”
“Yes. They’d be in her purse, too.”
“She has a white straw bag, with silver buckles.”
“Her new summer bag. We bought it last month. It’s her new fa vorite.”
“Where does she keep it when she’s not using it?”
“In her room, on the hook on the inside of the closet door.”
The empty hook, Eve thought. Her killer had taken it, and everything in it.
“I have to ask. Did Deena use illegals?”
“She did not. I don’t say that with absolute certainty simply because she was my daughter and due to my position.” MacMasters kept his gaze steady on Eve’s. “I know all the signs, Lieutenant. And I’m well aware of how susceptible a girl of Deena’s age can be to peer pressure or the urge to experiment. She was strongly opposed to illegals, not just because they’re against the law but because she had a deep respect for her body, her health.”
“She’s very aware of nutrition,” Carol added. “In fact, I often felt guilty for drinking coffee or indulging in junk food. She works out six days a week—yoga, jogging, resistance training.”
“What gym did she use?”
“She doesn’t like gyms. We have a little area on the lower level. And if she wants to jog outside, she uses the park. The secured trails. She carries a panic button, and knows self-defense. Jonah saw to that. She’s been using the park more recently, with the good weather. Illegals would never be a choice for her. She respects herself and her father too much.”
Present tense, Eve thought, all present tense. Deena was still alive for her. Would it be another nightmare when reality fully set it?
She hesitated, trying to find the right tone to direct toward the father without hastening the nightmare for the mother. That flicker translated itself to the other cops in the room.
“Carol.” MacMasters tightened his grip briefly on his wife’s hand. “Could you and Anna make some coffee? I think we could all use some.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Whitney said.
“Of course we can.” Obviously understanding the ploy, Anna rose, held a hand out for Carol. “I’d love some coffee.”
“Yes, all right. I should have offered . . .”
“We’ll take care of it.” Anna firmly led Carol from the room.
“You want to know if there’ve been any threats against me or my family,” MacMasters began. “Anything from the job that might have led to this. There’s always a chemi-head who mouths off, a dealer who tries to toss his weight around, save face. I have a file of what I consider the more serious threats. We took down a major operation two months ago. The moneyman, Juan Garcia, made bail.” His face shifted into a look of disgust. “Shark lawyer, a pile of money. He’s wearing a bracelet, but it wouldn’t stop him.”
“We’ll check him out.”
“Yeah. Yeah. But . . . this isn’t his style.” MacMasters rubbed his hands over his face. “He’d go for me, or the other cops on the bust. He’d slit my throat, or have it slit in a blink if he thought he could get away with it, but I don’t see him doing this, or ordering it. Plus, if he went for my family, he’d want me to know who did it.”
“We’ll check it out anyway, and look into the rest of your file. I’ll need a copy.”
“You’ll have it. I know we can never be sure—” He broke off a moment, seemed to struggle. “Never sure if or when something might come back on our family through the job, but I know I haven’t been tailed. This is a good neighborhood, and we’ve kept everything in Carol’s name, on public records. Word gets out, I know, but the house is secured, and we’ve drummed safety and awareness into Deena since she was a toddler.”
“Something closer to home?” Eve suggested. “An argument or dispute with a neighbor?”
“No. Nothing.” MacMasters spread his hands. “Everyone gets along. Deena, especially Deena, was well liked. She—she ran errands for Mrs. Cohen down the block when she was laid up with a broken ankle. She fed the Rileys’ cat when they went on vacation. She . . .”
“You haven’t noticed anyone unfamiliar hanging around the area?”
“No. No. In any case, she’d never open the door for a stranger, especially when alone in the house. I looked—while I was waiting for the uniforms. I couldn’t find any sign of break-in. There’s nothing missing or disturbed. It wasn’t a burglary gone wrong. It was direct and deliberate against my girl. And it was someone she knew.”
“At this point in the investigation I agree with you, Captain. We’ll still cover all the ground. I’m going to talk to her friends. If there was a boy who caught her eye,” Eve continued, using Carol’s phrase, “she may have been more forthcoming with them.”
“It wasn’t a . . . a date gone wrong. It wasn’t an impulse.”
“No, sir, I don’t believe it was.”
“Then tell me what you believe.”
Eve glanced at Whitney, got a nod. “At this very early stage I believe she may have made a date, planning to entertain a friend—someone she may have met outside her circle. Someone who may have targeted her. I believe he may have incapacitated her. There’s a glass, the only thing out of place in the kitchen, which we’ll have tested.”
“Drugged her.” Emotions scraped the words raw.
“Possibly. Captain, I can’t as yet draw conclusions, and I’m not entirely comfortable outlining speculation. I will promise to keep you in the loop. I will promise my partner and I, and the team I’ve already started to assemble, will work diligently to find the answers.”
“I asked for you, Lieutenant, because I have no doubt of that.” He pressed his fingers to his eyes. “For the record, and to repeat the statement I gave the commander: My wife and I returned early from a two-day holiday. The locks were secured. The cameras, I discovered later, were off. I didn’t notice this immediately. We went directly upstairs. I took our bags to our bedroom while Carol went to Deena’s room to see if she was awake. She screamed. My wife screamed, and I ran directly to her. I found her trying to lift Deena from the bed. I could see . . .”
“There’s no need, Captain. I can refer to the statement you gave the commander.”
“No, we all know it needs to be repeated. I could see Deena was gone. I saw the evidence of sexual and physical abuse—the blood, the bruising, the restraints. I pulled my wife away from our girl because . . . I knew I had to. She fought me, but I was able to get her out of the room and into our bedroom where I used both force and intimidation to keep her in there while I contacted the commander. I realize this isn’t procedure. I should have called for uniforms, but . . .”
“I would have done the same.”
“Thank you.” His chest shuddered as he fought for control. “I related the situation to the commander. I asked for his help. The uniforms he dispatched arrived. No, that’s not accurate. I went back into Deena’s room first. I had to see . . . I had to be sure. I convinced Carol to come downstairs, and at that time I checked the security and looked for signs of break-in. Then the uniforms arrived. The commander and Mrs. Whitney arrived shortly thereafter. At that time, the commander and I went back to . . . to the scene. I then requested you as primary.”
“Thank you, Captain. I’ve dispatched two uniforms to do the door-to-door. With the commander’s permission I’ll copy you on all reports.”
“Permission granted. The ME’s team is here,” Whitney added when he saw the wagon pull up outside. “It would be best if we kept Carol in the kitchen.”
“I’ll go back with her.” MacMasters got to his feet. “If you’re done with me for now, Lieutenant.”
“Yes. The sweepers will be all over the house soon. Is there somewhere you and your wife can go for the time being?”
“You’ll come home with us,” Whitney said.
MacMasters nodded. Eve thought the cop was beginning to fade. His hands trembled, and even as she watched, the lines at the corners of his eyes seemed to cut deeper.
“I’ll be in contact, Captain. Once again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”
When he walked out, a man in a daze now, Whitney turned to Eve. “Conclusions?”
“Speculations is more accurate. She let him in, planned to do so. Impossible to say at this time if she brought him home with her from some outside meet or if he came here on his own. She ordered him food from the AutoChef. Most likely they ate. If he drugged her, left the glass on the counter, it was deliberate.”
“He wanted us to know that much,” Whitney concluded.
“Yes, sir. It was personal, planned, and deliberate. The rapes were very violent, the facial bruising feels like an afterthought, like show. I believe he choked her, smothered her, maybe taking her in and out of consciousness to prolong the event, and her pain and fear. He wanted the pain and the fear. TOD is after three this morning. Everything I’ve learned this far indicates the victim wouldn’t have let anyone in, even a boy she had a crush on, in the middle of the night.”
“No. No, I don’t believe she would have done that. Unless. . . if she believed someone needed help. Someone she knew.”
“It’s a possibility. More likely he was here for some time, a considerable amount of time. Unless the sweepers find evidence to the contrary, I believe all the violence took place in her bedroom, and after he had her restrained. He didn’t take any chances. He came here to accomplish a specific thing, and he did so.”
“Check like crimes,” Whitney began, then stopped himself. “I’m telling you how to do your job. Instead, I should let you do it.”
“I’m going to start with her friends. We may get lucky there, get a name, a description. I’m having the glass Peabody bagged sent straight to the lab. I’ve requested Morris as ME. Feeney, McNab, and whoever Feeney assigns out of EDD will handle the electronics. We’ll also do a sweep of the park where she jogged. If she met her killer there, someone might have seen them together. We will check out Garcia, though I tend to agree with the captain on that.”
“Keep me informed,” Whitney told her, then glanced over as his wife came in.
“I wanted to give them a few moments in private. And to give this to you, Lieutenant.” Anna offered Eve a memo cube. “The names and contacts of the friends Carol told you about.”
“Thank you.”
“I know you need to get started on what comes next, but I’d like to say something. Carol and Jonah are dear friends, and Deena was . . . lovely in every way. I don’t always like your style, Lieutenant. Jack,” she said with an impatient glance when he started to interrupt. “Please. I often find you abrasive and difficult to understand. But Carol and Jonah are dear friends, and Deena lovely in every way. If Jonah hadn’t requested you to lead this investigation, I’d have used every influence I had with your commander to get you so assigned. Get the bastard. You get the bastard.”
She broke down, walked straight into her husband’s arms, and wept.
3
EVE ESCAPED. SHE WALKED OUTSIDE WHERE she could breathe without drawing in the misery and grief. And where she could reestablish the locks on her own memories and emotions.
She spotted the two uniforms she sent out on the knock-on-doors crossing back toward the victim’s home.
“Officers. Report.”
“Sir, we covered the block, and were able to speak to all but four residents. Others confirmed the family two doors east is out of town, and has been for three days. Two others are reportedly attending a Peace Day rally this morning, and the whereabouts of the remaining resident is unknown at this time.”
“I want the name of the question mark. We track him down and interview. The same with the rally attendants. Everyone on this block in residence for the last twenty-four hou
rs is to give a statement.”
“Yes, sir. Those we spoke with noticed nothing out of the ordinary yesterday or last night. No one saw anyone but the victim enter or leave the scene.” The female officer taking the lead flipped out her memo book. “A Hester Privet both saw and spoke to the victim yesterday morning at approximately ten-fifteen. The victim was, at that time, watering the plants at the entrance to the house. They spoke briefly. The victim mentioned she had a few errands to run that day as her parents were due back the following afternoon. Privet states she then jokingly asked if the victim had a big party planned for the evening. The victim seemed slightly flustered, but laughed and stated she thought she’d just have a quiet evening instead. Privet then continued east on foot.”
Over the uniform’s shoulder Eve watched a big orange dog lead its young couple into the park, spotted a jogger in bright red shorts heading out.
“The witness passed by the house later in the day, she believes about three in the afternoon when she took her children to the park, and again at approximately five when she took them home. She is certain the security was engaged at those times as she deliberately walked by to check as she was aware the parents were out of town. She did not, however, see the victim at either time.”
“Good. Let me know as soon as you’ve located and gotten statements from the others.”
After dismissing the uniforms, she stood where she was and watched the morgue attendants bring Deena out in the anonymous black body bag. Then she moved to intercept a woman, blond hair flying, who rushed toward the house.
“Ma’am. This is a crime scene, you can’t enter at this time.”
“It’s Deena, isn’t it? They wouldn’t say what happened, the police. Just that there’d been an incident. I couldn’t believe. . . Is it Deena? What happened?”
“I’m unable to give you any information at this time. Are you a friend of the family?”
“Yes. A neighbor. Hester Privet. I spoke with two officers earlier this morning, but—”