Leverage in Death: An Eve Dallas Novel (In Death #47)(11)

“On the screen. I heard the report on the screen. Paul . . . I can’t reach Cecily. I can’t reach her. Please.”

“Can we come in, Ms. Kelly?” Eve asked.

“I’m sorry. Yes. I slept late,” she continued as she stepped back. “It’s a day off. I slept late. I turned the screen on for company while I did some chores before I went out to run errands. I can’t reach Cecily. Melly. Oh God, please.”

“Ms. Greenspan and Melody are on their way to Ms. Greenspan’s mother in New Rochelle.”

“Oh. Oh.” Iris sank into a chair in the living area, covered her face, burst into tears. “Thank God. I thought . . . I was afraid . . . It’s all craziness. They’re saying Paul killed himself and all those other people at his office. He never would, never, but they keep saying it and saying it. And I couldn’t reach Cecily.”

“Why don’t I get you some water?” Peabody suggested.

“Thank you. Thank you. I don’t understand why they’re saying Paul did something like this. He’d never hurt anyone. Please, he’s a good man.”

“We believe Mr. Rogan was coerced.”

“‘Coerced,’” Iris repeated slowly.

“Ms. Kelly, has anyone approached you, asking questions about the family, their home, Mr. Rogan’s work?”

“No. No. I mean to say, I talk about the family the way you do, with my husband or friends, my own family. Except they’re family, too. They made me family.”

As she swiped at tears, she rocked herself for comfort. “I was there when they brought Melly home for the first time, just a little pink bundle. I’ll share things, like how well Melly’s doing in school or her dance recital, or something funny Paul said—he likes to joke—or something Cecily and I did. Just casual talk.”

“Someone outside your friends and family,” Eve pushed as Peabody brought Iris a glass of water. “Someone making a delivery to the house when Melody was in school and her parents were at work. Or a repairman. Anyone.”

“No, I promise you. I might talk to the people who run the market when I do the marketing. They might ask how I am doing, and how the family is doing. I might brag about Melly now and then. She’s next to my own. I might say how well she did in school—she, she wants to be an astronomer. I might speak to one of the mothers or nannies if I went to the school to get her. Sometimes Cecily had to stay for meetings, and I pick Melly up and take her home.”

“Did anyone make you uncomfortable? Anyone you spoke to, anyone you saw around the neighborhood?”

“I can’t think of anyone. I know some of the neighbors, and the people who work for them. You chat sometimes. I met my Johnny when he was working on the house next door. He redid the kitchen for the Spacers, and we chatted.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Nearly four years.”

“You have the security code to the residence.”

“Yes.” Her streaming eyes went wild. “Yes, I—”

“Have you given it to anyone?”

“Oh no, no one. Not even Johnny. You can’t break trust.”

“Do you have it written down?”

“No.”

“How do you remember it?”

“It’s easy. It’s all the initials of our first names, in order of age. PCIM—the numbers of the alphabet for them. So it’s sixteen—one-six, that is—three, nine, thirteen. I don’t understand. Did something happen at the house?”

That part of the report hadn’t hit the media, Eve thought—or it hit after Iris turned off the screen. “Two men broke in—got through security. At this time we don’t believe they knew the code.”

Her breath started to hitch. “You said Cecily and Melly were all right. You said—”

“They will be. Ms. Greenspan was hurt, but her injuries aren’t critical. You can contact her through her mother when we’re done here.”

“Melly?” Rocking faster, Iris fisted both hands over her heart. “Did they hurt Melly?”

“Nothing serious. Do you answer the ’link when you’re working?”

“Yes. Please, I just need to talk to them.”

“Melly threw Jupiter out her window to get the cops’ attention.” Peabody added a smile to her soothing voice. “She’s smart, brave, and she’s fine.”

“She is smart. She is.” More tear swiping. “Okay. They’re okay.”

“Have there been any contacts,” Eve continued, “repeat contacts you don’t know personally, surveys asking questions, anything like that in the last six months?”

“Nothing I can think of.”

“Think back to December. What was going on?”

“Oh, the holiday prep. Melly was so excited as we counted down to Christmas, even though she doesn’t believe in Santa anymore. I helped with the decorating, as I always do. We make a party of it. There’s extra marketing and shopping. I’d pick up things for both Paul and Cecily. Paul especially this year as he was already working hard on a campaign. And of course, Melly and I would go out to shop—our secret shopping and wrapping. For her parents, and a few of her girlfriends, her grandparents.”