“Did you believe him?” Noah asked.
Olivia shrugged. In her early thirties, she was blonde, graceful, and a damn good cop. Micki said Olivia was Eve’s family friend. Noah had questions, but he’d save them.
“No,” she said, “but we couldn’t prove he was lying. Kane’s pulling her credit cards to try to track her. We alerted area airports, bus stations, and rental car facilities.” She started, staring at the mirror. “What’s Eve Wilson doing here?”
“She found the last victim,” Noah said. “She called me.”
Olivia’s lips closed tightly.
“What?” Abbott demanded.
“She called me, too,” Olivia said. “Earlier this afternoon. She left a message on my phone at my desk. I was just about to call her back. How does she know the victim?”
“Victims,” Abbott said. “She knew Martha and Christy. From Siren Song.”
“No way. No how. Eve is not mixed up with sex ops. Let me talk to her.”
“That’s her lawyer,” Jack said. “Good luck.”
Olivia knocked on the window and Matthew Nillson came out to the observation room. “I’m a family friend. I’m going to talk to her.”
Olivia started to push past, but Nillson stopped her. “My client wants to talk to you all, too, but she’s afraid of the impact it will have on her work.”
“What impact?” Jack asked. “Guys call, get off, she gets paid. Where’s the impact?”
Nillson stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Your client,” Abbott said. “She works for a company called Siren Song. They provide phone sex services.”
Nillson was still staring. “And you think Eve works for them?”
“She knew Martha Brisbane from work,” Noah said. “Martha worked for Siren Song.”
“We have epic misunderstanding here,” Nillson said. “Eve’s a grad student working on her master’s in psychology. She knows Martha and Christy through her duties there. She thought it was strange that you asked for a personnel list. Now that makes sense.”
“So Eve doesn’t work for Siren Song?” Abbott asked carefully.
Thank God. When Noah saw her at Martha’s, he’d thought it was fate. Maybe it was.
Nillson shook his head. “Um, no. She does not work for Siren Song.”
“Told you,” Olivia said with satisfaction. “So why did she want a lawyer?”
“Because she’s found herself in a corner. She’s seen information she shouldn’t have seen. Information that led her to two of the victims. She’s worried that if her role in helping you comes out, she’ll be expelled. She’d like to be a confidential informant.”
“A CI?” She was staring into the mirror, but Noah got the impression she wasn’t looking at them, but at herself. He’d watched her tending bar, watching everyone else so cautiously. Knowing about her background, her innate caution made perfect sense.
He’d watched her, wishing he was a different man, wanting to shield her from himself. Now she needed shielding from whatever danger she’d stumbled into.
Noah cleared his throat. “We can proceed on a CI basis, right, Bruce?”
Abbott was also watching Eve, thoughtfully. He nodded. “Okay. For now.”
“Then, let’s begin,” Matthew said. “She has a hell of a story for you.”
Monday, February 22, 7:20 p.m.
Eve was relieved when Olivia came through the door. Webster and Phelps followed, along with Abbott, their captain. Matt closed the door as Olivia took the seat next to her.
“They’ve agreed to keep your role confidential,” Matt said taking his seat.
Eve nodded, still guarded. “I appreciate that.”
Webster sat across from her. Again, something was different. Where she’d seen anger and compassion, now his eyes flickered with relief. Matt looked almost amused.
Abbott reached across the table to shake her hand. “I’m Captain Abbott.”
“I know. Vodka, straight up.”
“We’re very interested to hear your story,” Abbott said.
Jack Phelps hadn’t said anything at all, which was highly uncharacteristic. He stood off to the side, back against the wall, watching. He seemed… disappointed.
Eve glanced at Olivia. “What just happened?”
Olivia’s lips twitched. “I’ll tell you later. It’ll make your day.”
Webster looked uncomfortable. “We’re ready to listen.”
Eve met his eyes, again sensing she could trust him. Six years had taught her a great deal about who she could trust. Webster was the real deal. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I wasn’t sure you’d believe me. I’m not sure I believe me. I’m a grad student. I’ve wanted to become a therapist for a long time. To help victims of violent crime.”
Webster nodded. “I understand.”
She was certain that he now did. “I’ll tell you what I know. But first, can you tell me when Christy died?” Please say it was before I met you on Martha’s doorstep. She’d been rehashing that moment in her mind, hoping her selfish desire to keep her secret hadn’t cost Christy Lewis her life.
“The ME thinks it was sometime early this morning,” Webster said kindly.
Relief had her shoulders slumping. “Thank you. All right. My thesis is on the use of the virtual world to improve self-esteem.”
“Virtual world?” Abbott asked with a frown.
“RPG. Role play games,” Eve added when he still frowned. “Like Shadowland.”
“It’s a computer game,” Olivia said.
“It’s more than a game,” Eve said. “It’s a community. You can meet people, have a job, buy property. All with complete anonymity. At least that’s how it’s supposed to be.”
“Their motto is ‘Sometimes you want to go where no one knows your name,’ ” Jack said. “I’ve played. A little.”
“Well, a lot of people can’t play ‘a little.’ Martha couldn’t. That’s why we picked her for my study. I wanted to tap the potential of the virtual world as a teaching tool. Like a big flight simulator, only to teach life skills, socialization. I wanted to help people who couldn’t function in the real world to… practice in the virtual world.”
“So a person who was socially clueless could learn to interact without the fear of rejection,” Webster said.
“Yes. I want to help these people leave the virtual world and make lives for themselves in the real one. This is important to me. I’ve worked hard to get here, to get into grad school, and I didn’t want to lose it. Which is why I didn’t tell you earlier.”
“All right,” Webster said. “So where do Martha and Christy fit in?”
“We recruited subjects for my study. People who’d never played before, like Christy Lewis. People who dabbled, like Detective Phelps. And what we called our ‘ultra-users,’ like Martha Brisbane. Martha averaged eighteen hours a day in Shadowland.”
“Eighteen hours?” Abbott said, shaking his head. “How did she have a life?”
“I wondered how Martha made a living, because she was in the game all the time.”
At that Webster actually blushed. Eve glanced around, only to find everyone in the room casting their eyes everywhere but at her. “Okay, what did I miss?”
Olivia sighed. “Martha was a phone sex operator, Eve. When you told Detective Webster that you knew her from her work…”
Eve’s mouth fell open. “That explains a lot.” She felt her own cheek heat and knew her face was aflame, leaving her scar starkly white. “For the record, I don’t do… that.”
Webster cleared his throat. “I’m sorry we thought so.”
A hysterical giggle bubbled up and she shoved it back. “Okay. Moving right along.”
“Your study,” Olivia prompted.
“Our subjects do exercises to increase self-awareness. Like find three people with whom you have something in common. It started out by them finding people that looked like them. Or their avatars. Later, they dug deeper for hobbies and personal interests.”
“Avatars?” Abbott asked, then shrugged. “Sorry. I’m old.”
Eve smiled at him. “No, you’re not. An avatar is like a game piece. Like when you play Monopoly, you’re always the…?”