Eve engaged the recorder, recited the pertinent data. After reading the revised Miranda, she sat. "You've exercised your right to an attorney, Ms. Cross."
"I certainly have. I've already been harassed by you twice, Lieutenant Dallas. I prefer that this continued harassment go on record."
"Me, too." Eve smiled. "You were acquainted with Robert Mathias, also known as Lobar."
"He was Lobar," Selina corrected. "It was his chosen name."
"Was is the operative word, seeing as he's in a refrigerated unit at the morgue. And so is Thomas Wineburg. Are you acquainted with him?"
"I don't believe I've had the pleasure."
"Well, that's interesting. He was a member of your cult."
Selina set her chin, waved away Trivane as he leaned forward to speak to her. "I can't be expected to recognize the name of every member of my church, Dallas. We are…" She spread her hands on the small table. "Legion."
"Maybe this will refresh your memory." Eve opened a file, took a still out, and slid it across the table. Death shots were always ugly.
Selina studied it with a small smile tugging at her mouth. A finger of the hand she wore webbed again today traced the spread of harsh red blood. "I can't say for certain. We meet in the dark." Her gaze lifted to Eve. "It's our way."
"I can say for certain. Both he and Lobar were yours, and both were murdered with a style of knife used in your rituals."
"An athame, yes. We are not the only religion who uses such an instrument in ceremony. I feel, after this violence, this persecution of members of my church, the police should be concerned with protecting us rather than pointing fingers. Obviously, there is a person or persons determined to eliminate us."
"I figured you had your own protection. Doesn't your master look out for his own?''
"Your mockery only shows your ignorance."
"Having sex with an eighteen-year-old delinquent shows yours. Did you have sex with Wineburg, too?"
"I said I can't be sure I knew him. But if I did, I very likely had sex with him."
"Selina." Trivane cut her off, his voice firm. "You're goading my client, Lieutenant. She's stated she can't positively identify this victim."
"She knew him. Both of you did. He was a weasel. Do you know what a weasel is in cop-speak, Ms. Cross? An informant." Eve rose, leaned over, bending her body close to Selina's. "Were you worried about how much he'd told me? Is that why you arranged for him to die? Were you having him followed?" She slanted her gaze toward Trivane briefly. "Maybe you have all your… faithful followed."
"I see whatever I need to see in the smoke."
"Yeah, in the smoke. The psychic's version of the Peeping Tom. It was risky for Wineburg to come by the viewing room. Why do you suppose he wanted a look at Alice? Had he been there the night she was drugged, raped? Did you let him have her?"
"Alice was an initiate. A willing one."
"She was a child, a confused one. You like luring the young, don't you? They're so much more interesting than stubby fools like Wineburg. With their firm bodies, their malleable minds. People like Wineburg and the distinguished counsel here, they're just for the money, and the cachet. But those like Alice, they're so tender. So tasty."
Selina looked up smugly through her thick, dark lashes. "She was. She enjoyed and was enjoyed. She didn't have to be lured, Dallas. She came to me."
"Now she's dead. Three deaths. Your members must be getting nervous." Eve smiled thinly at Trivane. "I would be."
"Martyrdom isn't new, Dallas. People have been killed because of their faith for centuries. And still, the faith survives. We'll survive. We'll triumph."
Eve took out another still, slapped it on the table. "He didn't."
It was Lobar, his mutilated body caught it the garish lights of the crime scene. The wound on his throat gaped open like a scream.
It was Trivane who Eve watched. His eyes blinked rapidly, horror flickering through. His skin went pasty, and his chest rose and fell in jerks.
"He didn't survive," Eve said softly, "did he, Selina?"
"His death is a symbol. He will not be forgotten."
"Do you own an athame?"
"I own several, naturally."
"Like this?" She took out another photo, this one a close-up of the weapon left pinned into Lobar. Blood crusted the blade.
"I have several," Selina repeated. "Some similar to this, as one might expect. But I don't recognize this particular one."
"Hallucinogens were found in Lobar's system. You use drugs during rituals."
"Herbals, and some chemicals. All legal."
"Not everything found in Lobar's system was on the legal list."
"I can't be responsible for the choices other people make."
"He was with you the night he died. Was he using?"
"He had taken the ritual wine. If he took something otherwise, it was without my knowledge."
"You have priors as a chemi-dealer."
"And paid my debt to so-called society. You have nothing on me, Lieutenant."
"I have three bodies. And they're yours. I've got a dead cop, and he's on you, too. I'm closing in on you, Selina. Step by step."
"Keep out of my face."
"Or?"
"Do you know pain, Dallas?" Selina's voice went low and thick. "Do you know the pain that eats at the stomach like drops of acid spreading? You beg for relief, but none comes. The pain becomes agony, and agony almost pleasure. The pain becomes so intense, so unspeakable that if a knife came to your hand, you would gladly slice through your own guts to cut out the source of it."
"Would I," Eve said coolly. "Would I really?"
"I can offer you that. I can offer you pain."
Eve smiled, and her smile was slow and humorless. "That slips into the area of threatening a police officer. And that'll get you some time in a cage until your lawyer finesses you out again."
"You bitch." Furious that she'd been trapped so neatly and with so little effort, Selina sprang to her feet. "You can't hold me for that."
"Sure, I can. Selina Cross, you're under arrest for verbal threat to physically harm a police officer."
She was fast, but Eve's reflexes were sharp. She blocked the first blow as Selina flew at her. But the second rapid swipe caught her along the throat with those lethal dark nails. She smelled her own blood and indulged herself by bringing her elbow up to ram Selina's chin.
The dark eyes rolled back, went glassy. "Looks like we add resisting arrest. You're going to have your hands full for the next couple hours, counselor."
He hadn't moved, not a muscle. Trivane continued to sit, staring at the photos of the dead. When Feeney opened the door, a uniform behind him, Eve nodded. "Book her," she ordered. "Verbal threat and resisting."
Selina staggered as Eve passed her to the uniform. But her eyes cleared and fixed on Eve's face with bubbling malice. She began to speak softly, in a chant that rose and fell almost musically. She swiveled her head, looking over her shoulder as the uniform took her out.
Eve dabbed ringers on her throat, disgusted when they came away smeared with blood. "Did you catch what she was saying there?"
Feeney took out a handkerchief, handed it to her. "Sounded like Latin, bastardized some. My mother made me learn when I was a kid. Had delusions about me becoming a priest."
"See if you can make any of it out from the record. We may be able to add to the charges. Shit, this burns. Interview is concluded," she added and logged the time and date. "Trivane, you want to talk to me?"
"What?" He looked over, swallowed, shook his head. "I'll see my client, Lieutenant, as soon as she's booked. These charges won't hold."
Eve held out her bloody fingers. "Oh, I think they will. Take a good look, Louis." She stepped closer, jammed her fingers under his nose. "It could be yours next time."
"I'll see my client," he repeated, and his face was still white as death as he hurried from the room.