"It never is." He swung her legs into bed, pushed her down gently. "I'll tell you what it makes you, Eve. It makes you a good cop, a dedicated one. And a human one." He undressed, slipped into bed beside her. "And that being the case, it's probably best if I divorce you and get on with my life." He pulled her close until her head cozied into the curve of his shoulder. "Obviously, up till now, I've been blind to your hideous character flaws."
"You make me sound like an idiot."
"Good, I intended to." He kissed her temple, ordered the lights to dim. "Now, go to sleep."
She turned her head so that she could smell his skin on her way to sleep. "I don't think I can let you have that divorce," she said on a sigh.
"No?"
"Uh-uh. No way I'm giving up the coffee."
– =O=-***-=O=-
Eve arrived at her office at eight a.m. She had already been by the lab to harass them, which had, in part, cheered her. Her 'link was beeping with an incoming when she opened the door.
And Peabody stood at attention beside her desk.
"You're early, Peabody." Eve moved to the 'link, coded in, and waited for the messages to dispense. "You're not on for thirty minutes."
"I wanted to speak to you, Lieutenant, before I came on duty."
"All right." Eve put the messages on hold, turned to give Peabody her full attention. "You look like hell," she commented.
Peabody kept her gaze steady. She knew how she looked. She hadn't eaten or slept. Symptoms, she knew that were embarrassingly similar to those she displayed when a love affair ended badly. And this, she'd realized during the long night, was worse than any breakup with a man.
"I would like to formally apologize, Lieutenant, for statements made after the Forte interview. It was insubordinate and incorrect to question your methods. I hope that my lack of judgment in this matter will not influence you to dismiss me from this case, or from this division."
Eve sat, leaned back in a chair that creakily begged for lubricant. "Is that all, Officer Peabody?"
"Yes, sir. Except to say – "
"If you've got more to say, pull the stick out of your butt first. You're off duty and off the record."
Peabody's shoulders slumped slightly, but in defeat rather than relaxation. "I'm sorry. Watching him fall to pieces that way got to me. I wasn't able to divorce myself from the situation and view it objectively. I don't believe – don't want to believe," she corrected, "that he's responsible. It tainted my viewpoint."
"Objectivity's essential. And, more often than any of us want to admit, impossible. I wasn't completely objective either, which is why I overreacted to your comments. I apologize for that."
Surprise and relief spread through her. Peabody found them both easier to swallow than crow and fear. "Will you keep me on?"
"I've got an investment in you." Leaving it at that, Eve turned back to her 'link.
Behind Eve's back, Peabody closed her eyes tightly, dug for composure. She took a breath, swallowed hard, and found it. "So, does this mean we've made up?"
Eve slanted a look at Peabody's hopeful grin. "Why don't I have any coffee?" She engaged the 'link, let her messages run. The first had barely begun when Peabody set a steaming cup at her elbow.
"Come on, Dallas, come on. Give me a break. I can go on with an update any time, day or night. Get back to me damn it. Just a couple details.''
"Not going to happen, Nadine," Eve murmured and zipped through the next three messages from the reporter, all increasingly desperate.
There was a communication from the ME, with the autopsy report. Eve downloaded and ordered a hard copy print. Finally, a relay from the lab which verified the blood on the robe was Wineburg's.
"I can't see it," Peabody said quietly. "Why can't I see it? It's all there." She lifted her shoulders, let them fall. "It's all right there."
"We charge him and book him." Eve rubbed a finger up and down the center of her forehead. "Murder one on Wineburg. We'll hold off on the conspiracy to murder on Trivane until Mira's done the testing. Have him brought up for interview again, Peabody. We'll see how many more we can pin to him."
"Why Alice?" Peabody asked. "Why Frank?"
"He didn't do them. They're not his."
"Separate cases? You still think Selina's responsible for them?"
"I know she is. But we're a long way from proving it."
– =O=-***-=O=-
She spent the day going over reports, filing her own. By noon, when she faced Chas in interview again, she was ready to try a different tack.
She studied his chosen representative, a young, sad-eyed woman who, by Eve's estimate, could barely be old enough to have passed the bar. She didn't bother to sigh as she recognized the woman from the initiation ceremony.
A lawyer witch, she mused. And wondered if that would be considered a redundancy.
"This is your chosen counsel, Mr. Forte?''
"Yes." His face was a sickly gray, his eyes shades darker. "Leila has agreed to help me."
"Very well. You've been charged with murder, Mr. Forte."
"I've requested a bail hearing," Leila began and passed Eve some paperwork. "It's scheduled for two p.m. today."
"You won't get bail." Eve handed the papers to Peabody. "And it won't delay this very long."
"I didn't even know the man who was killed," Chas began. "I'd never seen him before that night. I was with you."
"Which puts you on the scene at the time, giving you opportunity. Motive?" She leaned back. "You were there, you knew he was about to break, to talk. His blood wasn't the first to spill, was it, Mr. Forte?"
"I don't know anything about it." His voice quavered. He took a breath, laid his hand over Leila's as if for support. Their fingers linked and his voice came stronger. "I've never harmed anyone in my life. It's against everything I believe, everything I've made myself. I've told you. I held nothing back from you, trusting you to understand."
"Do you own a black robe? Natural silk, wrap style, floor length?"
"I own many robes. But I don't care for black."
Eve held a hand out, waited until Peabody put the sealed garment into it. "Then you don't recognize this?"
"It's not mine." He seemed to relax a little. "That doesn't belong to me."
"No? Yet it was found in a chest in the bedroom of the apartment you share with Isis. Carelessly, perhaps quickly hidden under a stack of other robes. There's blood on it, Mr. Forte. Wineburg's blood."
"No." He cringed back. "That's not possible."
"It's a fact. Your representative is free to study the lab report. I wonder if Isis will recognize it. It might… jog her memory."
"She has nothing to do with this. Nothing to do with any of this." Panic had him lurching up. "You can't suspect her of – ''
"Of what?" Eve cocked her head. "Of being an accessory? She lives with you, works with you, she sleeps with you. Even if she's just been protecting you, it puts her in it."
"She can't be drawn into this. She can't be put through this. Leave her alone." He leaned forward, resting trembling hands on the table. "Leave her alone. Promise me that, and I'll tell you whatever you want to hear."
"Chas." Leila stood, put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Sit down. Don't say anything else. My client has nothing further to say at this time, Lieutenant. I need to confer with him and request privacy to do so."
Eve took her measure. The woman no longer looked young and sad-eyed, but cool and determined. "There won't be a deal, counselor, not on this one." She rose, signaled Peabody. "But a full confession might get him a psych facility rather than a maximum lockup. Think about it."
She swore under her breath once she was outside the room. "She'll put a lid on him. He'll do what she tells him because he's too scared not to."
Eve paced a yard down the corridor then back. "I've got to get to Mira. She's bound to be done by now with testing. You contact the PA's office. We need somebody down here. Maybe if we have a prosecutor talk to his rep lawyer to lawyer, we can open it up."