Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)(6)

“How well did you know each other?”

“We’re the only tenants, both women, both single. But she’s very private, and as a single mother, a working one, I’m insanely busy most of the time. We’re friendly, but we don’t—didn’t,” she corrected, “really socialize or hang together. I teach dance six days a week, and I have Tasha. My socializing consists of playdates, trips to the park, kid vids. Ariel teaches art, and works hard and seriously at her own.”

“You had access to her unit.”

“Yes. Ariel had a cat—Rodin. She sometimes travels to art festivals, and she asked if I’d look after Rodin, go up, make sure he had food and water, give him a little company whenever she was away. He died last winter. I completely forgot to give her the key card back. And she never asked, so it slipped my mind. I gave it to the police.”

“Yes, we have it. Can you tell us about your evening?”

“Oh, sure.” She pushed both hands through a wild mass of curly black hair. “Like I told the other officers, after I picked up Tasha from school, we came home. I fixed her a snack, and she took a nap while I taught a class in my studio across the hall. I use a monitor so I can see and hear her if she wakes up. The security on the front is worthless, in my opinion, but I can’t afford to fix it myself. I keep the apartment locked if she’s sleeping and I’m teaching, but I have the monitor.”

“You know she’s safe,” Peabody put in.

“Yes.” Brownstone’s hand fluttered up to the top button of her shirt, twisted at it. “I don’t want you to think I neglect her. It’s just the two of us. Her father hasn’t been in the picture since before she was born—his choice. I filed for professional-mother status for the first six months, but …”

“You need to work,” Eve said.

“I do. I want her to know I’m supporting us, using what I have to teach. Anyway, we have a routine, and she generally conks during the three o’clock class, then we bring some of her toys over so she can play during the next class. After that there’s dinner, and a walk to the park if the weather’s good or whatever we’re up for. Then I have an eight o’clock—the thirteen-to seventeen-year-old students. Tasha likes to dance with the kids, and they don’t mind. After that, I lock up, put her to bed. Sometimes that’s quick and easy, sometimes not.” She smiled a little. “Last night was quick and easy, so I had her down for the count about quarter after nine, took a shower. I had some wine, and started nodding off in front of the screen. So I went to bed.”

“Did you hear anything from upstairs, hear anyone come in or go out of the building? The stairs are loud,” Eve pointed out.

“Tell me about it. I invested in soundproofing for that exact reason. Do either of you have kids?”

“No.”

“Well, let me tell you, when you’ve walked the floor with a teething baby, finally get her to sleep, and somebody comes clanging up the damn stairs and wakes her up, you want to murder them.”

She jerked back. “I didn’t actually mean—”

“We get it,” Peabody assured her.

“The landlord wouldn’t spring for soundproofing, but told me if I wanted to spend the money on it, go ahead. Actually, my parents paid for it. They live upstate.”

“What do you know about Ms. Byrd’s friends, her romantic relationships?”

“Oh, not much, if anything. I know she had students on Tuesday and Wednesday evenings, and every other Saturday afternoon. If I had a class or was going in or out of the building, I’d see them coming in. She never talked to me about anyone she was seeing.”

Again, she shook her head. “I lit that candle for her. Silly, I guess, but I wanted to … If I’d made more time, put more effort into getting to know her, I might be able to help now.”

“You have helped,” Peabody told her.

“Part of me wants to shut everything down and run back upstate. I’ve lived in the city since I was seventeen and had a chance to study with the Company. I had dreams of being a prima ballerina. I made it to principal,” she said with a smile. “And then there was Tasha. I don’t regret for a single second choosing her over that dream. She is the dream. And this is the first time I’ve even thought about leaving. Can’t do it.”

She lifted her hands, let them fall. “We’ve made our life here, and it’s a good one. But I hope to God you find who did this to Ariel, not only so I can sleep at night, but because she didn’t deserve this. What I knew of her was she was a good person, a talented artist, and a considerate neighbor.”

Outside, as they walked back to the car, Peabody slipped her hands into her pretty pink coat because, to her thinking, it made it more of a stroll.

“Parenting’s hard,” she commented. “Single parenting without the other parent involved has to be brutal. But that was a happy apartment. You could feel it.”

“It’ll be happier when we find out who killed her neighbor.”

“Yeah, there’s that.”

“What do we know, Peabody?”

“Dead woman, attacked from behind, who, by all appearances had wine and sex prior to the attack. EDD will confirm if the lock was compromised, as visual exam leans no.”