Echoes in Death (In Death #44)(49)

“We’re going to explore every avenue, Mrs. Brinkman. Whatever we find, you’ll remember: You didn’t invite him in that night. You didn’t invite his actions that night. You aren’t responsible, in any way, for what happened.”

Because she wanted to keep them from dwelling on that possibility, Eve changed gears. “Detectives Olsen and Tredway indicate neither of you met or knew the Patricks before the attacks. How about the Strazzas?”

“Actually, when Rosa and I were talking—she contacted me before you got here—we realized we’d all attended some of the same events. We’d just never connected.”

“What events?”

“Well, ah, the Celebrate Art Gala last April. And the Winter Ball—that was the year before last. Neither of us attended this year’s. And a few others, I don’t remember now. Which is why I need Lilia. Rosa actually helps organize the art gala. It’s a lovely evening. We’ll go this year,” she said to Ira.

“Of course we will.”

“Oh, and, I remember another. Wait.” Lori tapped two fingers to her temple. “I just had it. The Have a Heart Ball. It’s a Valentine’s Day event, a charity ball in association with St. Andrew’s Hospital.”

Another link in the chain, Eve thought. “But you never met the Strazzas?”

“I met Dr. Strazza, as it happens,” Ira told her. “Just met, as in we were introduced briefly by a mutual acquaintance. At one of these charity events. I’m nearly certain it was the Celebrate Art Gala. I only remember at all—it was that brief—because of all this.”

“You spoke with him?”

“Really no more than ‘How do you do.’ I’d gone to one of the bars with an acquaintance, and Dr. Strazza was passing by. You’d gone off with Rhia and Lilia, one of your safaris to the ladies’ lounge,” he said to Lori. “I headed to the bar with Chase.”

“Chase Benson,” Lori expanded. “He knows everyone, and drops names like they’re seeds for the garden.”

“Now, Lori.”

“Did you meet his wife?” Eve probed. “Daphne Strazza?”

“No, she wasn’t with him at that moment—and it was only a moment. Chase intercepted the man, gave him one of his patented hearty handshakes. I believe he did ask about Strazza’s wife. Something like ‘Where is that gorgeous creature you stole from the rest of us?’ That’s how Chase talks. I think Strazza said something about her powdering her nose.”

“Stupid expression,” Lori muttered.

“That may be, but when I think of it, I’d say Strazza looked a bit annoyed. Chase can have that effect. In any case, Chase introduced us, Strazza nodded and left. It was brief. Abrupt, really. Chase said something about Strazza being a dick with a young, sexy wife. That was it.”

“How many ladies’ lounges?” Eve wondered.

“The one main,” Lori told her. “You can hoof it to others, but the main’s big and beautifully appointed. It means something, doesn’t it, that we were all there—the six of us—that night?”

“It may.” Following a hunch, she took out her notebook, scrolled through to Daphne Strazza’s ID shot. “Maybe you noticed her there.”

Lori took the handheld, stared at it. “She’s so striking. It’s not a face you’d forget. And, yes, I saw her, saw her in the lounge. It was the Celebrate Art Gala. I even spoke with her. She’d been crying—was doing her best to hide it. I asked if she was all right, the way you do. She said she had a headache, and had taken a blocker. She was wearing a fabulous white dress with hints of sparkle, beautifully fitted, cut low on the back, an off-the-shoulder bodice with thin black chains draped on each shoulder.”

Ira let out a laugh. “Lori can’t remember the day of the week, but she never forgets an outfit.”

“And I don’t forget she had a bruise here.” Lori touched her left biceps. “Just a little bruise, but still showing some red. A fresh bruise, like she’d been pinched hard. I remember her because she was a strikingly beautiful woman in a strikingly beautiful dress who looked unbearably sad and was trying to hide it.”

Lori drew a breath. “I wonder if you could tell her, ask her, if I could go see her. If she’d want to talk to me, talk to me and Rosa. She may not be ready, but you could give her my contact information. Whenever she is…”

“I will. I don’t want to take you through that night again, but I wonder if you’d let my partner and me see the bedroom.”

“It’s not the same.” Lori looked at her husband, waited for his nod. They rose together. “We’ll take you up. We’ve made changes,” she explained as she led the way. “We couldn’t live here at first. We went to our house in the Hamptons, even talked about selling this house.”

“We’ve lived here all our married life,” Ira added. “In the end we decided we’d make some changes, add more security. We’d try, and if either of us felt we needed to sell, we would.”

“It’s a great house,” Peabody commented. “You can feel the history of it just like you can feel the, well, settled aura. It reflects you both, I think.”

“So do we.” On the second floor, Ira moved to a pair of double doors, opened them. “We can secure these, and did for the first few weeks.”