“It doesn’t,” Mira disagreed in that same calm tone. “You’re trained to hear what’s not said. And even when it’s this intensely personal, you’d hear.”
“Okay.” Eve let out a breath. “Okay. She was scoping me out, dropping little tidbits. She made it sound as if she and Roarke were going to work together. She’s playing me, and I can’t find the rhythm to kick her the hell off the field.”
“However satisfying that might be, kicking her off the field won’t solve this for you. He has to do that. Have you told him this is hurting you?”
“I feel stupid enough. He hasn’t done anything. The fact that they have this heat and history between them, well, he can’t do anything about that. It is. She knows it, and she’ll use it. Then…I guess he’ll have to make a choice.”
“Do you doubt he loves you?”
“No. But he loved her first.”
“Do you want my advice?”
“I guess I must, since I dumped all this on you.”
Mira rose, took Eve’s arms. “Go home, get some sleep. Take something if you must, but get a couple of hours of sleep. Then tell Roarke how you feel. Tell him you feel stupid, that you feel hurt, that you know he hasn’t done anything. Feelings aren’t always rational and reasonable. That’s why they’re feelings. You’re entitled to yours, and he’s entitled to know what yours are.”
“Sounds good in theory. Even if I could work up the chops for that, I can’t do it. I have that goddamn deal with Nadine tonight.”
“Oh, of course. Now ’s premiere. Dennis and I will both be watching.” She did something then she rarely did, or Eve would rarely allow. Mira brushed her hand over Eve’s hair, then leaned in, kissed her cheek. “You’ll be wonderful, and when it’s done, when you’ve had a decent night’s sleep, you’ll talk to Roarke. Maybe he does have a choice to make, but everything I feel, everything I know, says absolutely that choice will always be you.”
“She speaks French and Italian.”
“That bitch.”
Eve managed a laugh, then did something she’d never done. She simply lowered her brow to Mira’s and closed her eyes. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Okay.”
The churning and airing of all those emotions might have given her a drilling headache, but despite it, she felt better.
When she walked back into her division, she saw Peabody sitting at her desk in the bull pen talking to a small, dark-haired woman. Peabody patted the woman on the arm, rose.
“Here’s the lieutenant now. Dallas, this is Laina Sanchez. We’ve been talking. Maybe we can use the lounge?”
“Sure.” She saw now, as Laina levered to her feet, that the woman was several months into gestation.
“I thought I should come in.” Laina’s voice was faintly accented and throaty. “I talked with Hallie after you interviewed her. Detective Peabody interviewed me at the school the day…the day Craig died. So I came in to see her.”
“Fine.” In the lounge she saw Baxter and Trueheart-the slick and the innocent-at a table in a corner with a skinny, jittery guy wearing sunshades.
Funky-junkie, Eve decided. Probably one of Baxter’s weasels. She flipped through her mental files to try to pin down what cases the pair was working while Peabody offered Laina a drink.
Underground homicide, she remembered. Dead tourist who, it appeared, had been trying to score in one of the nasty holes under New York ’s streets.
Baxter’s gaze flicked to hers too briefly to measure, but in the look she saw that the junkie had something that was heating up the investigation.
At least somebody had a decent lead.
She went for water because the coffee in the lounge was revolting. And settling down, let Peabody run it.
“We really appreciate you coming in like this, Laina. Lieutenant, Laina came down on the subway. I told her we’d have her driven home. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
“No problem.”
“Laina, would you like to tell Lieutenant Dallas what you told me?”
“All right. I moonlight for Hallie sometimes. I know she told you, and that I’m not really supposed to. But the money helps, and Hallie’s been very good to me. She told me you’d spoken to her, and what was said.”
“Why don’t you tell me, Mrs. Sanchez?”
“Yes.” Laina nodded. “First I wanted to tell you that we did meet in the kitchen that morning. We had coffee, talked awhile about some menu changes, and just…well, we just talked, as friends do.”
Now she shifted, laying a hand on her bump of belly. “Hallie told me you’d asked about Mr. Williams, and if he’d…if there had been anything personal between them. Of course Hallie’s not interested in men in that way. But we also talked about what she didn’t tell you, because she’s my friend.”
“There was something personal between you and Mr. Williams?”
“No.” Laina flushed and closed a hand over the little silver cross she wore around her neck. “No, no. I’m married. This means there are lines that aren’t crossed. For me and my husband, this means there are lines. For Mr. Williams, the lines are less defined. He flirted with me. It was uncomfortable because of our positions, but, I thought, harmless. Then he touched me. He put his hand on my breast.”
Eve waited a beat. “And?”
“I hit his hand with a spoon,” Laina snapped out, full of indignation. “Very hard. He thought it was funny. I didn’t tell my husband. He wouldn’t have thought it was funny. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to lose my job.”
“Did he continue to harass you?”
“Mr. Williams asked me to dinner, and asked me for drinks, and asked me to bed. He touched me again, and that time I slapped his face. He wasn’t discouraged. I should’ve reported him, I know, but when I said if he didn’t stop, I would, he just shrugged. He’d been there a lot longer than I had, and he’d be believed before I would. He’d say that I approached him, and I’d be fired.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. I’m ashamed to say I did nothing. He left, and I kept working. I cried. I couldn’t help it. And Craig came in, and found me crying. He asked me what was wrong. I didn’t tell him, but I think he knew. He would have passed Mr. Williams going out, so I think he knew. And Mr. Williams never bothered me again after that. I think Craig told him to leave me alone.”
She let out a sigh, drank some water. “I should have told you, Detective Peabody, all of this when you talked to me that day. But I didn’t think of it. I was only thinking that Craig was dead. He was such a sweet man, and he was dead. I never thought of that day.”
“When did this happen? The day Craig found you crying?”
“It was before the holiday break. Weeks and weeks ago. So I don’t see that it means anything. But Hallie said I should tell you. That you should know everything. I wish you wouldn’t have to tell my husband. He’d be angry with me for not telling him, and angry with Mr. Williams. He’d cause trouble at the school.”
“There’s no reason we need to tell your husband, Mrs. Sanchez, but let me tell you something. If you were sexually harassed by Williams, you should report it. If he did this to you, he’s done it to others. He shouldn’t hold the position he does, and he shouldn’t get away with it. You could get yourself a lawyer and sue his ass on top of it.”
“Who’d believe me?”
“I believe you.”
Eve sat where she was another moment while Peabody took Laina out to arrange for her transportation home. Williams, she thought. Despite no evidence of violence in his MO, he was a sexual predator. Not such a big leap from that to murder.
Either way, the son of a bitch deserved to have the shit kicked out of him.
She stood just as Baxter headed in her direction. “ Dallas,” he began, then studied her with a cocked head. “Sister, you look like something the cat wouldn’t bother to drag in.”
“That’s Lieutenant Sister, and bite me.”