The In Death Collection, Books 21-25

by J. D. Robb

  Zana looked around the busy corridors like a tourist at a street fair. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind a fizzy, any flavor but lemon.”

  “Peabody? Would you take care of that? I’m going to take Zana into A.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  Eve shifted the file folder as she walked. “Paperwork’s a killer,” she said casually. “And mostly a pain in the ass, but we want to have all the t’s crossed on this, so you and Bobby can get back home.”

  “We are getting anxious. Work’s really piled up, and Bobby wants to get back to it. Plus, I guess we’re just not big-city types.”

  She walked into the room after Eve opened the door, then hesitated. “Oh, is this an interview room, like you see on the cop shows on-screen?”

  “Yeah. Most efficient way to go through the statements. You okay with that?”

  “Oh, I guess. Actually, it’s kind of exciting. I’ve never been in a police station before.”

  “We’ll sign off on Bobby’s statements at the hotel, seeing as he’s injured. But we can get yours out of the way, start moving you back toward Texas. Have a seat.”

  “Have you brought many criminals in here?”

  “My share.”

  “I don’t know how you do it. Did you always want to?”

  “As long as I can remember.” Eve sat across the table from her, slouched back. “I guess Trudy’s part of that.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “That lack of control I felt when I was with her. Being defenseless. It was a pretty rough time for me.”

  Zana lowered her eyes. “Bobby told me she wasn’t very nice to you. And now, here you are, working so hard to find out who killed her. It’s . . .”

  “Ironic? That’s crossed my mind.” She glanced over as Peabody stepped in.

  “Got you a cherry,” she told Zana. “Tube of Pepsi for you, Dallas.”

  “I love cherry, thanks.” Zana accepted the tube, and a straw. “What do we do now?”

  “To keep everything official—and part of the formality, Zana, is my former relationship with Trudy—I’m going to read out the Revised Miranda.”

  “Oh. Oh, well, gee.”

  “It’s for your protection, and mine,” Eve explained. “If this case ends up in the cold file—”

  “Cold file?”

  “Unsolved.” Eve shook her head. “It’s tough to realize that may be what happens. But if it does, it’s better all around if we have everything very official.”

  “Well, okay.”

  “I’m going to set the record.” Eve read off the time, the date, the names of those in the room, the case file, then recited the Revised Miranda. “Do you understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”

  “Yes. Boy, I’m a little nervous.”

  “Relax, it won’t take long. You are married to Bobby Lombard, the son of the victim, Trudy Lombard. Correct?”

  “Yes. We’ve been married nearly seven months.”

  “You were well acquainted with the victim.”

  “Oh, yes. I worked for Bobby and his partner before Bobby and I got married. I got to know Mama Tru. That’s what I called her. Um, well, after Bobby and I got married, that’s what I called her.”

  “And your relationship with her was friendly.”

  “Yes, it was. Am I doing this right?” she added in a whisper.

  “You’re doing fine. The victim was, according to your previous statements and statements on record from others, a difficult woman.”

  “Well . . . she could be, I guess you could call it demanding, but I didn’t mind so much. I lost my own mother, so Mama Tru and Bobby are my only family.” She stared at the wall, blinked her eyes. “It’s just me and Bobby now.”

  “You’ve stated you moved to Copper Cove, Texas, looking for employment, sometime after the death of your mother.”

  “And after I finished business school. I wanted a fresh start.” Her lips curved. “And I found my Bobby.”

  “You had never met the victim or her son before that time.”

  “No. I guess it was fate. You know how you see somebody, and you just know?”

  Eve thought of Roarke, of the way their eyes had met at a funeral. “Yeah, I do.”

  “It was like that for me and Bobby. D.K., um, Densil K. Easton, Bobby’s partner, used to say every time we talked to each other, little hearts flew out of our mouths.”

  “Sweet. Whose idea was it to come to New York at this time?”

  “Um, well, Mama Tru’s. She wanted to talk to you. She’d seen you on media reports, about that cloning business, and recognized you.”

  “Who selected the hotel where you were staying at the time of her death?”

  “She did. I guess that’s just awful when you think about it. She picked the place where she died.”

  “We could call that ironic, too. At the time of the murder, you and Bobby were in the room across the hall and three doors down from the victim’s.”

  “Um, gee. I know we were across the hall. I don’t remember how many doors down, but that sounds right.”

  “And at the time of the murder, you and Bobby were in your room.”

  “Yes. We’d gone out to dinner, Mama Tru said she wasn’t up for it. And we got a bottle of wine. After we got back, we . . .” She blushed prettily. “Well, we stayed in the room all night. I went down in the morning, to her room, because she wasn’t answering the ’link. I thought maybe she was sick, or a little irritated with us for going out on the town. Then you came, and—and you found her.”

  She lowered her eyes again, worked up a few tears, Eve noted. “It was awful, just so awful. She was lying there, and the blood . . . You went in. I don’t know how you can do that. It must be so hard, being a policewoman.”

  “Has its moments.” Eve opened her file, pushed through some hard copies as if checking facts. “I’ve got my time line here. I’m just going to read through it, on record, and see if you concur.”

  While she did, Zana got busy biting her lip. “That sounds right.”

  “Good, good, now let’s see what else we need to go over. Nice sweater, by the way.”

  Zana preened, looked down. “Thanks. I just liked the color so much.”

  “Goes with your eyes, doesn’t it? Trudy’s were green. Wouldn’t have looked nearly as good on her.”

  Zana blinked. “I guess not.”

  There was a knock on the door. Feeney stepped in. Right on schedule, Eve thought. He held a pocket ’link, bagged for evidence, keeping his hand over it so that it couldn’t be clearly seen. “Dallas? Need a minute.”

  “Sure. Peabody, go ahead and go over the events and time line of the Monday after the murder.” Eve rose, walked over to Feeney while Peabody took the ball.

  “How long you want me to stand here jawing?” he said under his breath.

  “Just glance over at the suspect.” Eve did the same, over her shoulder. Then, taking Feeney’s arm, drew him out of the room. “Let’s give her a minute to think about that. You’re sure this is the same type registered to the victim.”

  “Yep, make, model, color.”

  “Good. She’d have gotten just enough of a look for that to register. Appreciate it.”

  “Could’ve sent one of my boys down with it, you know.”

  “You look more official and scary.” Since she wanted Zana to sweat another minute, Eve dipped her hands in her pockets. “So how’d it go yesterday? Fancy dress dinner.”

  “Had one of my grandsons tip the gravy boat. He’s a good kid, and we got a nice bond.” He smiled wide. “Plus I paid him twenty. Worth it. See, the wife can’t get too pissed at the kid, and I got to lose the suit. That was a winner, Dallas. Appreciate it.”

  “Happy to help.” Her communicator beeped. “Dallas.”

  “Baxter. Couldn’t find the sweater, but—”

  “She’s wearing it.”

  “No shit? Cocky little bitch. But we’ve got the handbag, the perfume, and the enhancements. Also—and you�
�re going to love this—since the warrant included communications and electronics, I had Trueheart take a look at her ’link log. We’ve got her scanning about flights to Bali. She’s got a hold on a reservation on one, under the name Marnie Zane, next month. Single. One way. Out of New York, not Texas.”

  “Isn’t that interesting? I’m sending Peabody out for the bag, and other items. Nice work, Baxter.”

  “Me and the kid had to make up for botching the tail.”

  “Got her in a corner, Dallas,” Feeney commented when she clicked off.

  “Yeah, but I want her in a cage.”

  She stepped back into the room, her expression sober. “Detective Peabody, I need you to retrieve some items from Detective Baxter.”

  “Yes, sir. We’ve completed the Monday time line.”

  “Okay.” Eve sat as Peabody went out. “Zana, did you communicate, by ’link, with the victim at any time on the day of her death?”

  “With Mama Tru? On that Saturday? She called our room, told us she wanted to stay in.”

  Eve laid the ’link on the table briefly, put the file over it. “Did you have further ’link communication with her, later that evening?”

  “Ah, I can’t really remember.” She nibbled on her thumbnail. “It’s all sort of muddled.”

  “I can refresh you on that. There were more communications from her ’link to yours. You had a conversation with her, Zana. One you didn’t tell me about during your previous statements.”

  “I guess maybe I did.” She looked warily at the folder. “It’s hard to remember all the times we talked, especially after everything that’s gone on.” She offered Eve a guileless smile. “Is it important?”

  “Yeah, a little bit important.”

  “Gosh, I’m sorry. I was so upset, and it’s hard to remember everything.”

  “It doesn’t seem like it should be so hard to remember going to her room that night, the night of her murder. She must’ve looked pretty memorable with her face all busted up.”

  “I didn’t see her. I—”

  “Yes, you did.” Eve nudged the folder aside so there was nothing between them. “You went down to her room that night while Bobby was asleep. That’s how you got that sweater you’re wearing, one she bought on the Thursday before her death.”

  “She gave me the sweater.” Tears swam, but Eve swore she saw a light of amusement behind them. “She bought it for me, an early Christmas present.”

  “That’s a pile of bullshit, and we both know it. She didn’t give you anything. Not the sweater. . .” She looked over at Peabody who’d brought in another evidence bag. “Not that purse, the perfume, the lip dye, and eye gunk. But you had to figure they wouldn’t do her any good, seeing as she was dead. Why shouldn’t you enjoy them? Why shouldn’t you have it all?”

  Eve leaned forward. “She was a stone bitch, you and I both know it. You just seized an opportunity. That’s something you’re good at. Have always been good at, haven’t you? Marnie.”

  21

  IT WAS IN HER EYES, JUST FOR AN INSTANT. Not just shock, Eve thought, but excitement. Then they rounded again, innocent and wholesome as a baby’s.

  “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I don’t want to be here anymore.” The lips she’d liked too much to change trembled. “I want Bobby.”

  “Did you ever?” Eve wondered. “Or was he just handy? But we’ll get to that. You’re going to want to drop the act now, Marnie. We’ll both be happier, as I can’t imagine you found someone as boring as Zana fun to cart around.”

  Marnie sniffled pitifully. “You’re being so mean.”

  “Yeah, I get that way when somebody lies to me. You’ve been having some fun with that. But you also got a little sloppy in the room next to Trudy’s, where you cleaned up. Left some blood. Better, left your prints.”

  Eve rose, walked around the table to lean over Marnie’s shoulder. She caught the subtle floral scent and wondered if Marnie had dabbed on Trudy’s new perfume that morning. How she’d felt spritzing on a dead woman’s choice.

  Probably just fine, Eve decided. Probably giggled while she sprayed.

  “You did a good job on the identity switch,” she said quietly. “But it’s never perfect. Then there’s Trudy’s ’link. Little things, Marnie, it’s always the little things that trip you up. You just couldn’t resist lifting a few things from her. You’ve got sticky fingers, always did.”

  She reached over, flipped open the file on the table, exposed the split-screen photos she’d generated, along with Marnie Ralston’s data and criminal record.

  “Busy, busy girl. That’s what I saw in you, I think, the first minute, outside Trudy’s room. The busy, busy girl inside the housewife.”

  “You didn’t see anything,” Marnie said under her breath.

  “Didn’t I? Well, in any case, you shouldn’t have kept the perfume, Marnie, shouldn’t have taken that pretty sweater, or that really nice purse.”

  “She gave me those. Mama Tru—”

  “That’s crap, and see now you’re lying stupid. Smarter, smarter if you worked up those tears again and told me you took them, just couldn’t help yourself. You’re so ashamed. You and I both know Trudy never gave anybody a damn thing.”

  “She loved me.” Marnie covered her face with her hands and wept. “She loved me.”

  “More crap,” Eve said easily. “More lying stupid. The problem is you ran into a cop who knew her, who remembers her. You didn’t count on me showing up that morning before you finished setting things up, cleaning things up. You didn’t count on me heading the investigation.”

  She gave Marnie a pat on the shoulder, then eased a hip on the table. “What were the odds of that?” Eve glanced over at Peabody. “I mean, really.”

  “Nobody could’ve figured that one,” Peabody agreed. “And it’s a really great purse. Shame to let it go to waste. You know what I think, Lieutenant? I think she overplayed it with that faked abduction. She’d’ve been smarter to stay in the background. But she just couldn’t resist grabbing a little spotlight.”

  “I think you’re right. You like being in the shine, don’t you, Marnie? All those years you had to play the game. Cops, Child Protection, Trudy. Busted out awhile, got your own back. Never enough. But you’re smart. Opportunity plants a boot in your ass, you know how to turn around and grab it.”

  “You’re just making things up because you don’t know what happened.”

  “But I do know. I admire you, Marnie, I have to say. All the planning, all the playacting. You really know how to pull it off. Of course, she walked right into it. Coming here, going after me. Then following her old pattern of messing herself up so she could blame somebody else. It might’ve taken you months more of being the good little wife, the sweet little daughter-in-law, before you could wrap it up. Come on, Marnie.” She leaned forward. “You know you want to tell me. Who’d understand better than somebody who’d been through it? She make you take those cold baths every night? Scrub up after her? How many times did she lock you in the dark, tell you that you were nothing?”

  “What do you care what happened to her?” Marnie said softly.

  “Who says I do?”

  “I don’t think you have anything. Those things?” She gestured to the evidence bag. “Mama Tru gave them to me. She loved me.”

  “She never loved a soul on or off planet but herself. But maybe you can swing that with a jury. You think, Peabody?”

  Peabody pursed her lips as if considering. “She’s got a shot, especially if she turns on the waterworks. But when you put them with the rest, chances drop sharply. You know, Lieutenant, there’s the case for lying in wait—the big picture. Assuming a false identity—not a big hit, but added up.” Peabody lifted a shoulder. “Assuming it’s for the purposes of murder. Man, you give the jury that, the fact that she married the victim’s son just to get in position to kill her former foster mother. ’Cause that’s fricking cold. Then factor in the money, murder for gain. She’s looking at
life, off-planet facility. Hard time.”

  Peabody looked at Marnie. “Maybe you can convince us the actual murder was unpremeditated. Maybe you could make a case of self-defense for yourself. While you’ve got our sympathy.”

  “Maybe I should call a lawyer.”

  “Fine.” Eve pushed off the table. “No skin off mine, ’cause I’ve got you. You spring the lawyer, Marnie, that’s your right. Once you do, it cuts deep into my sympathy and admiration. You got a name?” Eve asked easily. “Or do you want court-appointed?”

  “Wait. Just wait.” Marnie picked up her fizzy, sipped. When she sat it down again, the guilelessness was replaced by calculation. “What if I tell you she was going to rake you to the bone, you and your man? I stopped her. That’s got to be worth something.”

  “Sure it is. We’ll talk about that.” Eve sat back down. “But you’re going to want to lay it out for me. Why don’t we start at the beginning?”

  “Why not? God knows I’m sick to death of Zana, you hit on that one. You got my sheet, there. Juvie, the works?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It doesn’t tell the whole story. You know how that goes. I got kicked around, since I was a kid.”

  “I saw your medicals. You had it rough.”

  “I learned to kick back. I looked after myself, because nobody else was going to.” In disgust, she shoved the remainder of the fizzy aside. “Can I get some coffee? Black.”

  “Sure, I’ll take care of it.” Peabody walked to the door, slipped out.

  “The system blows,” Marnie continued. “Beats me to hell and back how you can work for it, after what it did to you.”

  Eve kept her gaze level. “I like being in charge.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get that. Got yourself a badge, that frosty weapon. Kick some ass regular. I can see how that could work for you, how you get some of your own back.”

  “Let’s talk about you.”

  “My favorite subject. So, they finally get me clear of my bitch of a mother, and what do they do? Dump me with Trudy. First, I figure, Hey, I can work this. Nice house, nice things, do-gooder and her boy. But she’s worse than my mother. You know.”

  “I know.”

  “She was strong. I was puny back then, and she was strong. Cold baths every night—every fucking night—like it was her religion. Locked up in my room every night afterward. I didn’t mind that, it was quiet. Plenty of time to think.”