Secrets in Death (In Death #45)(52)

Two more known marks—if Trina’s information was accurate, and it likely was.

Annie Knight, successful screen personality. Wylee Stamford, superior athlete and baseball star.

What secrets had Mars dug up on them, and hoarded away?

She sat, thinking to start a run on both, to get a sense of them beyond ratings and baseball stats. Then both her desk unit and her ’link signaled.

Kyung, on both, she noted.

Lieutenant, you’re needed in the media center. K

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

But she got up, headed out.

Both Whitney and Kyung waited for her. Kyung gave her a long look, eyebrows arched. And smiled.

“Don’t start on me.”

“Only to say you look … quite prepared, Lieutenant. And to add your one-on-one with Nadine hit the right tone. I’ve already prepped them, and the commander will give an opening statement. You can go straight to questions. Do you have any of your own?”

“No. Let’s just get it done.”

She scanned the rows of reporters, the cameras, while Whitney stepped to the podium to give the official statement.

“The primary investigator, Lieutenant Dallas, will take questions.”

He stepped back, she stepped up, and the barrage began.

She ignored the shouts, said nothing at all, wondering why they never learned that she didn’t play this game.

When a hand shot up several rows back, she pointed.

“It’s been confirmed you were in Du Vin, a bar owned by your husband, when Larinda Mars was killed. Did you speak with her, interact with her?”

“I, along with two doctors on scene, attempted to save her life. Unsuccessfully. You could call that interaction.”

“I’m sorry, I meant before she was attacked.”

“No.”

“But you knew her. Personally.”

“I met her briefly three years ago in the course of another investigation.” And since they’d ask. “At that time, she asked for and was given an invitation to a party at Roarke’s home. Since that time I haven’t seen or spoken to her until the events that transpired at Du Vin.”

Another hand shot up—maybe they could learn.

“Isn’t the fact you were a witness to this crime a conflict of interest to your function as the primary investigator?”

“I didn’t witness the crime, but the result of it.” A fine line, Eve thought, but a line. “If I had witnessed the crime, the perpetrator of same would now be in custody. However, the fact I was on scene, thereby able to secure the scene and any witnesses quickly, serves as an investigative advantage. I imagine the individual who killed Ms. Mars would have preferred otherwise.”

“Would it be accurate to say, as you were there, you most likely saw her killer?”

She’d asked herself the same damn question. “I can’t say, with accuracy. It’s a good-sized bar, with a spreading layout, and was, at the time, near full capacity.”

The questions went on, a lot of the usual bullshit about leads, motive, details she couldn’t and wouldn’t answer or answered only in generalities.

When she felt herself running out of patience, she wrapped it up.

“Let me finish up with a statement. Investigative work must remain objective. In the usual course of my job, I stand over the dead, and I do my best by them, as does everyone who works in this department. In this case, I didn’t come on scene after a body had been discovered or a crime reported. I watched Larinda Mars die. The two medicals on scene with me watched her die despite their best efforts. The people in that bar, there to have a drink with a friend after their workday, and those serving them, watched her die. I will do my best by her, as will everyone on the investigative team.”

She stepped back, ignored the ensuing barrage of questions. She looked at Kyung, got his nod.

And left to do her best.

Hoping EDD had more forward progress, she aimed there first. She skirted the madness, went straight to the geek lab.

Through the glass she saw McNab, skinny butt bopping on his stool, along with Feeney, his hair in an explosive bush, which told her he’d been pulling at it. And Roarke, slick suit coat off, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back.

Not done yet, she concluded, but walked in anyway.

“If we had the Cat’s-Paw first layer,” Roarke said as he continued to play with a touch screen, “it may be an Armed Defense next.”

“Maybe, maybe.” Feeney pulled at his hair again. “It’s sneaky. I’m already working it.”

“Hot shiny shit!” McNab swiveled his narrow shoulders enthusiastically enough to have his long tail of blond hair swaying at his back. “I’m in the bitch now.”

“Well done, Ian.” Glancing over, Roarke spotted Eve. “Fine timing, Lieutenant. Our boy here just cleared his way into your victim’s bedside tablet.”

“You’d think she was freaking NSA, the shields and blocks and bullshit she used on her personal e’s.” McNab grabbed a vending cup, guzzled. “And she encrypted everything—different code patterns on every damn device.”

“Can you put what’s on that on screen?”

“I can now.”

Once he did, Eve looked at a blue screen with a bunch of colorful symbols.

“First layer under the shields,” McNab told her. “Standard icons. Hey, she played Killer Bees. Tight game. Anyway, we’ll go through all those and check it, but let me just…”