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Nag, nag, nag.

And why hadn’t Roarke buzzed in to nag her?

Too pissed at her for flipping him off that morning, she thought. Well, she hadn’t been the one with a former playmate on her fucking pocket ’link.

She started to sit, started to sulk, and Peabody poked her head in. “Williams’s attorney is here, and guess who it is.”

It took Eve one beat. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“I don’t know whether or not I shit you as I didn’t say it was-”

“Oliver Straffo? What kind of sick irony is this?”

Peabody’s face moved to sulk at having her scoop dumped. “Well, he walked in, big as life, and is advising his client to make no further statements, answer no more questions until they consult. Then he wants to talk to us.”

“Hmmm.” Eve glanced at her board where she had Allika Straffo’s picture lined up in Williams’s shooting gallery. “This should be interesting.”

Who knew what about who? Eve wondered, and thought of Allika, the kid. How was she going to find out who knew what about who without blowing the situation up in the faces of the innocent?

Maybe Straffo had a right to know his wife had tossed up her skirts for a slime like Williams. But it wasn’t her job to rat out a foolish wife unless it closed her case.

“Eggshells,” Peabody murmured as they stepped toward the interview room.

“What? You want eggs?”

“No, I meant we’re going to have to walk on eggshells here. Be really careful,” she explained.

“I thought it was something like ‘You can’t make scrambled eggs without breaking some.’”

“No, it’s ‘You can’t make an omelette without breaking some eggs.’ But this is more like the opposite in the food-saying spectrum. Eggs have been broken, but we don’t want to crush the shells.”

“It’s a stupid saying because if the eggs are already broken, who gives a damn about the stupid shells?” Eve wanted to know. “But I get it. Let’s go.”

She saw immediately that Williams had his confidence back. A high-powered defense attorney could do that for a suspect, guilty or innocent. Straffo sat in his conservatively and perfectly cut suit, hands folded on the table.

He said nothing until Eve started the record.

“One of my associates is already drafting a motion to have the warrant you secured invalidated, and the search deemed illegal.”

“You won’t get it.”

He smiled a little, gray eyes hard as steel. “We’ll see. In the meantime your attempts to involve my client in the murder of Craig Foster are ludicrous. Sexual indulgence isn’t a crime, nor is it a route to murder.”

“Sex and murder walk hand in hand like lovebirds, Straffo. We both know it. The victim was aware of your client’sindulgence on school property, during school hours. Which is, as you also know, illegal.”

“It’s a misdemeanor.”

“And grounds for dismissal from the educational facility. Even, as I’ve done my research, grounds for the revocation of the license to teach in this state. Self-protection also walks along with murder.”

“You don’t have even a blurry circumstantial case, Dallas. You have suspicion of what may be inappropriate and unwise behavior. You have no evidence that my client and the victim ever argued. In fact, I can and will provide statements from their coworkers that they did not and were, in fact, on friendly terms. You have no link to the murder weapon and my client, no witnesses that saw him enter the victim’s classroom on the day in question, because, in fact, he did not so enter.”

“He was unaccounted for during a period of time when the victim was absent from the classroom, and as classes were in session, his entering same would not have been witnessed.”

“He was not alone during that period, and should it become necessary, we will provide you with the name of the individual he was with. As I have not reached this individual and discussed this, I prefer, as does my client, not to divulge the name at this time. We are confident, however, that she’ll corroborate Mr. Williams’s statement.”

“You had plenty of time and plenty of opportunity to get in and out of that classroom,” Eve said to Williams. “And you had plenty of motive.”

“I-”

“Reed.” All Straffo did was say the name, and Williams stopped speaking. “All you have, Lieutenant, is a questionable search and seizure, which has netted you nothing that connects my client to this murder.”

“There’s nothing questionable about the search and seizure. And your client’s abhorrent habits caused the victim to nudge your client into a corner. He has stated, on record, that the victim learned of his habits and called him on it.”

“The situation was discussed between them, after which they continued their friendly working relationship.” Straffo closed his own file, one he hadn’t so much as glanced at during the interview. “If that’s all you’ve got, I’ve requested that my motion to overturn the warrant be fast-tracked. I’d like my client moved to an appropriate holding area until his release.”

“Your kid goes to that school. Your kid was one of the ones who found Foster. Did you see the crime-scene photos? You’re going to sit there and defend the man suspected of causing that?”

Straffo’s face went harder still, his voice colder. “Not that I have to rationalize the fact that everyone is entitled to a defense, but I’ve known Mr. Williams for more than three years. I believe him to be innocent.”

“He had Whore and Rabbit in his nightstand. He’s known to fuck around in the school, when your daughter is there.”

“Allegedly.”

“Allegedly, my ass. Is that the kind of person you want teaching your child?”

“This is an inappropriate conversation, Lieutenant. This interview is at an end.” He rose, closed his briefcase. “I’d like my client taken to holding until the motion is ruled on.”

She looked Straffo in the eye. “Peabody, take this sack of shit to holding. You know, Straffo, sometimes you get just what you deserve.”

The motion was tossed out. Eve went to court and watched Straffo and Reo battle it out. The warrant held, the search and seizure held, and so did the arrest for possession and distribution.

It was Straffo who won the battle of bail or remand.

Outside the courtroom, Reo gave a shrug. “He wasn’t going to get me on that motion, I wasn’t going to get him on remand. I figure this was a draw. Get me enough for a murder indictment, Dallas, and I’ll have that disgusting humpback in a cell.”

“Working on it.”

“Straffo’s going to want to deal on the illegals and my boss is going to agree with him.” Reo shot up a hand, anticipating Eve’s argument. “It works how it works, Dallas, and we both know it. So unless you can prove that he slipped that crap to someone without their knowledge or consent, he’s going to get a fine, mandatory counseling, and probation.”

“What about his teaching certificate? Revocation.”

“You really want to shut him down?”

Eve thought about Laina Sanchez crying in the kitchen. “Yeah, I really want to shut him down.”

Reo nodded. “I’ll look into it. You know, you’d better get moving. You’re on air in a couple hours.”

“Shit.”

As Eve headed reluctantly for Channel 75’s studio, Roarke was clearing his desk so he could do the same. He hoped his being there would make it better for Eve, not worse.

He didn’t know, couldn’t tell how it would be, and that stymied him. She wasn’t a predictable woman, he thought, but he knew her. Her moods, the rhythm of them, her gestures, her tones.

Now she’d blurred on him.

He wanted it all back in focus. Needed it to be. But he’d be damned if he’d blur his own image to pacify some absurd and imaginary offense she was clinging to.

She’d warned him, questioned him-interrogated more like, he thought with a spurt of heat. Doubted him and made him feel guilty when he’d done nothing to feel guilty about.