"Yeah, lots of space, lots of stuff." She looked around the kitchen. Everything was silver and black. Dramatic, efficient, and so clean she doubted even a team of sweepers would come up with a single mote of dust.
It wasn't that different a setup than the one in Roarke's house. She didn't think of the kitchen as hers. That was Summerset's province, and she was more than happy to let him rule there.
"I've met her before." Peabody glanced back from her ogling of the massive AutoChef. "You know Vanderlea?" "Met them, don't know them. One of the "dos" I got dragged to. Roarke knows them. I didn't place the name, who the hell can remember all those people! But her face clicked." She turned as Mrs Vanderlea hurried back into the room.
"She's not there. I don't understand. She's not in her room, or anywhere in her suite. Vonnie's sleeping. Her daughter, her little girl. I don't understand." "Does she often go out at night?" "No, of course she -Mignon?" With this, she dashed back into Elisa's suite.
"Who the hell is Mignon?" Eve muttered.
"Maybe Maplewood switched to girls. Might have a lover." "Mignon's not here." Deann was sheet-white now, and her fingers trembled as she held them to her throat.
"Who is-" "Our dog." She spoke quickly, the words jumping out of her mouth. "Really Elisa's dog, emotionally. A little teacup poodle I bought a few months ago for company, for the girls, but Mignon bonded with Elisa. She she probably took her for a walk. She often does that the last thing at night. She took the dog for a walk. Oh, God. Oh, my God." "Mrs Vanderlea, why don't you sit down? Peabody, some water." "Was there an accident? Oh God, was there an accident?" There weren't tears, not yet, but Eve knew there would be.
"No, I'm sorry, it wasn't an accident. Mrs Maplewood was attacked, in the park." "Attacked?" She said it slowly, as if the word were foreign.
"Attacked?" "She was murdered." "No. No." "Drink a little water, ma'am." Peabody pressed the glass she'd poured into Deann's hands. "Sip a little water." "I can't. I can't. How can this be? We were just talking, a few hours ago. We were sitting right here. She told me to take a blocker and go to bed. And I did. We… the girls were tucked in for the night, and she made me tea and told me to go to bed. How did this happen? What happened?" No, Eve thought. It wasn't the time to make it worse with details. "Drink some water." She noticed Peabody going over to close the pocket doors.
The kid, Eve remembered. This wasn't a conversation a child should hear, if she should wake.
When she did wake, Eve thought, her world would be changed, irrevocably.
CHAPTER 2
"How long has she worked for you?" Eve knew the answer, but it would be easier to guide Deann over smooth ground before they moved to the rocks.
"Two years. Two years. I we my husband travels a great deal, and I decided I wanted live-in help rather than just the day staff and droids. More for company, I suppose.
I hired Elisa because I liked her." She ran a hand over her face and made an obvious effort to settle. "She was qualified, of course, but we just hit it off right away. If I were to hire someone who'd live in my house, be a part of my household, I wanted it to be someone I was comfortable with, on a personal level. The other deciding factor was Vonnie. Yvonne, her daughter. I have a little girl, I have Zanna. They're the same age, and I thought they'd be playmates. They are. They're like family. They are family.
Oh God, Vonnie." She pressed her hands to her mouth, and now the tears came. "She's only four. She's just a baby. How will I tell her that her mother's… How will I tell her?" "We can do that, Mrs Vanderlea." Peabody sat. "We'll talk to her, and have a counselor from Child Protection available for her." "She doesn't know you." Deann pushed to her feet, walked across the room to a drawer, took out tissues. "She'd only be more frightened and confused if she heard… from a stranger. I have to tell her. I have to find the way to tell her." She dabbed her cheeks with a tissue. "I need a second." "Take your time," Eve told her.
"We're friends. Like Zanna and Vonnie. It wasn't… our relationship wasn't like employer and employee. Her parents…" Deann drew in a breath, long, deep. Eve gave her top points for control when she came back to the table. "Her mother lives downtown, with Elisa's stepfather. Her father, ah, he's in Philadelphia. I can… I can get in touch with them. I think, they need to hear this from me first. They need… I have to call Luther. I have to tell him." "Are you sure you want to handle this yourself?" Eve asked her.
"She would have done it for me." When her voice broke, she pressed her lips together, bore down. "She would have taken care of my baby, and I'll take care of hers. She would have… Oh, God, how could this happen?" "Did she mention any problems to you? Speak of being concerned about someone who bothered her, or made threats?" "No. No. She would have. People liked Elisa." "Was she involved with anyone romantically, socially?" "No. She really wasn't dating at this point. She'd had a difficult divorce, and was interested in creating a stable home for her daughter, and just as she put it giving men a rest." "Was there someone she rebuffed or discouraged?" "Not that I… was she raped!" Deann's hands fisted on the table.
"The medical examiner has yet to determine-" Eve broke off when Deann's hand shot out, gripped hers.
"You know, and I won't have you holding back. She was my friend."
"The indications are she was raped, yes." The hand tightened on Eve's, trembled once, violently, then released. "You'll find him. You'll find him and you'll make him pay." "That's my intention. If you want to help me do that, I need you to think. If there's anything, however insignificant it seems to you. If she said anything, however casually." "She would have fought," Deann stated. "Her husband was abusive, and she got counseling, she got help, and she left him. She learned to stand up for herself. She would have fought." "She did. Where's the ex-husband?" Td like to say he's sweating in hell, but he's in the Caribbean with his current bimbo. He lives there, runs some sort of dive shop. He hasn't seen his own child, not once, not ever. Elisa was eight months pregnant when she filed for divorce. I won't let him have that child." A combative light glowed on her face now, and the heat of it toughened her voice. "I'll fight him if he tries to take custody. I can do that for her." "When's the last time she heard from him?" "A few months ago, I think, when his child support payment was late again. Bitching and complaining about having to give her his money when she had this cozy setup here." She drew that long breath again. "The money went directly into an account for Vonnie, for her education. Not that he'd think of that." "Did you ever meet him?" "No, I was denied that dubious pleasure. To my knowledge he hasn't been back to New York in four years. I'm not thinking very clearly yet," she admitted. "But I will. I can promise you, I'll think very clearly, very carefully, and do anything I can to help you. But I need to call my husband now. I need to talk to Luther and to be alone, please. To be alone so I can find the right way to tell Vonnie when she wakes up. To tell Vonnie and my own little girl." "We'll need to see her rooms, look through her things.
Some time tomorrow. Is that a problem?" "No. I'd let you do it now, but…" She looked back toward the door. "I want Vonnie to sleep, as long as she can." Eve rose. "If you'd get in touch with me in the morning then." "I will. I'm sorry, I've completely forgotten who you are." "Dallas. Lieutenant Dallas. Detective Peabody." "Right. Right. I admired your dress when you came to the door. It seems like years ago already." She got up, rubbing at her face as she studied Eve. "You seem familiar to me. I can't figure out if it's because it seems you've been here for years, or if you are." "I think we met before, at some charity dinner or something." "At a charity dinner? Oh, well, of course. Roarke. You're Roarke's wife. Roarke's cop, people call you. I don't have all my wits." "No problem. I'm sorry to meet you again under these circumstances." Her gaze sharpened now, and the warrior gleam still lit her face. "When people talk about Roarke's cop over their cocktails and canapes, they say she's a little scary, a little mean, and very relentless. Would that be a fair description?" "Close enough." "Good. Good." Deann held out her hand, took Eve's firmly.