Celebrity in Death (In Death #34)(32)

“I’ll get the coffee.” Leonardo brushed a hand over Mavis’s shoulder as he went to the kitchen.

“This is total shock time. I mean, we were there, we talked to her. Sort of. And that crap she pulled at dinner … Do you know who did it?” Mavis demanded. “Do you have a target suspect? They’re all actors and stuff. How could one of them kill her? They’ve got a major vid going.”

“Sit down, sweetheart.” Leonardo brought out steaming cups on a tray. “I made you some nice jasmine tea.”

“The coffee smells a lot better. Still nursing,” Mavis added, “so I’m mostly off coffee. I had scenes with her, you know? And once we were in the mode, she was good—she was Peabody. I liked her when we were in the mode.”

“Did she have trouble with anyone?”

“Try everyone. Out of the mode, she was the big b-word, and nothing like Peabody. She was always looking to screw with Marlo, and she gave Matthew grief every chance she got.”

Mavis brought up her legs, crossed them under her, sipped at the tea. “I heard her yelling at Julian inside his trailer one day when I was going to mine. And she treated Preston—who’s a total doll baby—like s-h-i-t. She didn’t mess much with Andi. I think she knew Andi would have decked her, plus Andi’s got a mouth and a way of using it that’s better than a punch in the face. She got on Roundtree’s back a few times, but he rolls with that, as far as I could see.”

“What about last night?”

“I wish I’d paid more attention. Honeybee?” she said to Leonardo.

“It was tense. I don’t like when things are tense, especially that way. She broke into my conversation with Andi about a dress for the premiere, insisted I design hers, too. She was drunk and rude, and Andi told her …” His color came up. “It was a suggestion that was physically impossible, if you follow. They got into it a little. K.T. said she had the bigger, more important role, she should come first. Andi made another suggestion. It was very uncomfortable. K.T. backed off, and Andi went right back to discussing the dress as if it had never happened.”

“That’s good to know. Andrea Smythe didn’t mention any of this last night.”

“Oh, I saw K.T. corner Matthew, really in his face,” Mavis added. “I didn’t hear anything, but it looked intense, and she gave him one of these”—Mavis jabbed her middle finger in the air—“before she stomped off. He looked peeved.”

“When was this?”

“Um.” She shut her eyes. “Right before dinner. Yeah, a few minutes before we went in to dinner. And she was talking to Julian right before the show. He didn’t look peeved; he looked bored and annoyed. She did, though—look peeved. They were both pretty lit by then. I’m pretty sure she went off, sat in the back by herself. I didn’t pay much attention to her because I wanted to see the show. It was fun.”

“Did you notice anybody else? Anyone who left the theater during it?”

“No.” Mavis looked at Leonardo who shook his head. “We were sort of cuddled up together, me and my moon pie. We left pretty much right after. Trina’s aces at sitting, but we didn’t want to be away from Belle too long. We said good-bye to Roundtree and Connie, and sort of eased out. Oh! We saw Julian. He was passed out in the living room.”

“All right. If either of you think of anything else—any detail, let me or Peabody know.”

“K.T.’s dead.” Mavis shook her head as if still trying to take it in. “What happens now?”

“Now we find out who made her that way.”

Eve filled Peabody in on the way to Central.

“Nobody that Mavis or Leonardo saw having a moment with Harris mentioned it in Interview,” Peabody pointed out.

“Let’s find out why.”

“Do we bring them in?”

Eve considered it. “Yeah. Let’s play this as a routine follow-up, but make them come to us. Contact each one, make the arrangements. I want to get this new info down, start the board and book. Then we’ll see them one at a time. Jog their memories.”

Keep it friendly, Eve thought.

For now.

7

“START A DEEPER RUN ON THE VIC,” EVE ORDERED as she and Peabody rode the elevator in Cop Central. “Let’s see if we can find any other connection between her and the other people at Roundtree’s last night, including staff and catering.”

“On that.”

When they stepped off, Eve spotted two of her detectives huddled at Vending outside the bullpen.

Carmichael, her hair twisted up and secured to the back of her head by some sort of clamp, turned. “LT.”

“Detectives.”

“Sanchez here is running down our choices of liquid refreshment.”

“I merely pointed out that the lemon fizzy sold here contains no actual lemons. If you want actual lemons in a fizzy, you go to the deli around the corner. They make theirs on site.”

“And my contention is, the body’s full of chemicals anyway. Why not add more?”

“Fascinating.”

“Well, we’re after some liquid refreshment before we haul in a bunch of lowlifes,” Carmichael told her. “We caught one last night. A couple of bangers went out in that illegals stall disguised as a basketball court on Avenue B. One guy’s dead on scene with a lot of holes in him. The other was still breathing, got holes, and also had his head bashed in with an old iron post—which had his blood, skin on it, but no prints.”