Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)(51)
Mira sighed into her tea. “Some of this is simply her nature, but that’s been enhanced, refined by the need to pay them back, those parents, for what they put her through. And their money is a tangible way to punish them.”
“It’s going to come out—who she is. She’s deluding herself right now that her parents won’t find out, and I’m using that. She’ll never get what she wants.”
“No, she won’t. Her promiscuity will ruin her, and her promiscuity is yet another way she’s striking back at her parents. Without intensive therapy she’ll never be happy or fulfilled. Regardless, I believe whatever part she played in Ariel Byrd’s death was innocent—so far as innocence goes.”
“Because someone has power over her, and she’s not aware of it.” Eve only nodded as she thought the same. “Her ’link echo.”
“I leave that to those who know more about tech and electronics than I, but it’s a sound theory. Natural Order has power over her, as she must remain in good standing with them, through her parents, to reach her goals. Wilkey is another malignant narcissist, and one with a messiah complex. A charismatic bigot who draws in his followers with words of harmony, peace, personal success, and contentment if they adhere to his vision of what is natural, what is order. And reject what he sees as unnatural and chaos. And often bastardizes scripture to his own ends.”
Mira set her empty cup aside. “He turns a blind eye and occasionally disavows any in his membership who commit violence. That, as is what he preaches, is—I like that word you often use—bollocks. Complete bollocks.”
“I’m going to try to have a conversation with him today.”
Mira took a moment to consider. “He will, if you manage to have that conversation, be respectful. He’s a careful man. But he will not respect your authority. In fact, it will offend him. You’re a woman, therefore less by nature and biology and the grand plan. He may speak with you out of curiosity.”
“You know a lot about him.”
“I considered doing my dissertation on cults, with Natural Order highlighted. I decided on serial killers. I’ll add that if you’re right about the technology on Gwen Huffman’s ’link, whoever tracked or watched her already knew her secret, and has a reason to continue to keep it. Or killed to gain even more power over her.”
“Either way, it goes back to money.”
“Greed and power. Classic motives.” As she spoke, Mira ran the thin gold chain around her neck through her fingers.
“Though your killer is a planner, he’s disorganized. He watched and waited, but then struck in an impulsive and risky manner. Evidence indicates he sealed up before entering, but if he brought a weapon, why not use it?”
“The music was on, sure, and if he had a recorder on Gwen’s ’link, he heard Ariel say she was going to work. He heard Gwen leave. But,” Eve added, “that’s no guarantee she’d be in the studio. She could’ve come down after Gwen left. Or she could’ve been facing the stairs instead of away, seen him come in, picked up a weapon of her own.”
“Exactly so. Smarter, by far, to watch and wait near the building until the lights go out. Wait until he could be reasonably sure the victim had gone back to bed. Strike then.”
“Smarter still to make it look like a break-in.”
Pacing, Eve put herself into the killer’s place.
“You’ve got the key, you’ve used it before—how could you resist?—so you know the locks are crap. Grab some art, some tools, mess the place up. Unless you want fingers pointing at Gwen, and if that’s the thing, why didn’t you place an anonymous call and implicate her?”
“Disorganized, impulsive.” Mira rose. “I have to get to my office. I’d like to know your impressions if you do speak with Wilkey.”
“I’ll copy you on my report. I appreciate the time.”
“I hope it helped. I admit, I’m more fascinated than ever.”
Alone, Eve started the cross-match, adding Mira’s insights to her notes as it ran.
Then she contacted Chad Billingsly.
He looked exactly like his ID shot—not always the case. Young, attractive, stylishly rumpled dark blond hair, wide-set brown eyes.
He also looked baffled when she identified herself and asked about Gwen Huffman.
“Ah, yeah, we were engaged, briefly, a few years ago. A lifetime ago.” He tried a hesitant smile. “What, did she kill somebody?”
“Why would you ask?”
“Lieutenant Eve Dallas. I read the book, saw the vid.”
“Ms. Huffman is, at this time, a material witness in an ongoing investigation. Your name came up in connection with her.”
“Really. Weird. I haven’t seen Gwen in years. Four, I guess. Maybe five. I’ve closed that door, you know?”
“If you could open it again, tell me the names of any of her particular friends, or enemies during the time you knew her.”
“Man.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “She didn’t really have what we called Trip Bs—Best Bosom Buds. I guess she was pretty popular, but it was mostly surface when you look back on it. I mean, she was beautiful and stylish and pretty much had unlimited funds, so she’s going to get invited to parties and all that. But she didn’t belong to any clubs or groups, hang with anybody all that much.”