Delusion in Death (In Death #35)(93)

“You believe she was.” He shook his head as he studied her picture again. “She’s young. The young are often impressionable, easily swayed. Easily used.”

“Did you see them come back?”

“I was getting ready to leave, as I said, but Joe stalled me for a few minutes.” He lifted his face to the ceiling, eyes half shut. “I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in nearly a week. I was exhausted. Joe wanted me to stay. His wife was away with the kids, and he wasn’t in the mood to go home to an empty house. But I wanted to get home, just crash for the night. I’d gotten up, yes, that’s right. I was standing, telling Joe I’d see him in the morning, when they came back. Passed the bar again. They had to walk right by to get to their table.”

He lowered his face, widened his eyes at Eve. “She wasn’t watching where she was going.”

“No?”

“It was still crowded, and she was looking around again. She shoved at me. Shoved me out of her way as she went by as if she was in a hurry, and she said something rude. Something like, ‘Move your ass.’ I’d forgotten all about that. I’ve been so wrapped up in what happened to Joe, I’d forgotten about that. I walked to the door as they walked to the table. I know I looked back, she’d been so rude—and she … she took something out of her pocket as she sat down. She reached in her pocket.

“She’s the one.” He laid his hand over the face in the photo. “She has to be the one.”

As he spoke, the door opened and Teasdale walked in. She hesitated as she spotted Callaway, then sent Eve a hard stare. “Lieutenant, I need to speak with you a moment. Privately.”

“We may just have caught a break,” Eve began.

“I prefer not to have this discussion in front of a civilian.”

Eve surged to her feet, stomped out.

“Looks like a power struggle,” Callaway said.

“You could say so.” Peabody looked up from her computer. “While they’re at it, let’s go over those details again.”

18

“I’ve had the parents taken to a safe house. I persuaded them to tell me about a couple incidents in Callaway’s childhood.”

“Feel free to use them,” Eve told her, “if a door opens. But don’t screw up my timing or the rhythm. We’re working him. He thinks he owns the room. I led him to one of the survivors, tailoring her into the source. He took the bait and ran with it.”

“Once you take the bait, you’re hooked. Running becomes problematic.”

“Whatever, he’s adding a lot of details. Too many details.”

“Pride and pleasure cause people to elaborate as much as guilt.”

“I’m going to push him on Jeni Curve next. The conflict between you and me gives him the illusion of power. He’s going to pride and pleasure himself right into a cage. So.” Eve hooked her thumbs in her belt loops. “I think you’re a pushy federal shill wrapped in red tape.”

Teasdale picked a minute piece of lint from her lapel. “I see you as an incompetent, overly aggressive city employee.”

“That should do it.” Eve opened the door. “It’s still my case.”

“Not for long. I beg your pardon, Mr. Callaway, but I have strong objections to involving a civilian in this highly sensitive investigation, particularly one with connections to several of the victims.”

“That connection’s given us CiCi Way, and an angle to push, Agent Teasdale,” Eve reminded her. “You and the HSO are secondary investigators in this matter. You’re basically a consultant yourself until I hear different.”

Deliberately she turned her back on Teasdale, faced Callaway. “I’d like to move on to the second location.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“But you’re familiar with the café, know several of those who were killed or injured. Let’s try the visualization again.”

“For God’s sake,” Teasdale muttered.

“Look, Agent, we might get the same line on Curve with this.”

“Jeni?” Shock registered on Callaway’s face. “You don’t seriously suspect Jeni.”

“I don’t want to influence your memories here. Let’s just focus on yesterday. You stayed in for lunch?”

“Actually, I wanted some air, some head-clearing time, so I went out.”

“Do you remember what time you left the office? The building? If not, we can check logs and discs.”

“I think it was around twelve-fifteen. Near that time. I grabbed a pita—veggie and cheese, and a ginger ale from a cart about a block from the office. I’m not sure he’d remember me. He was busy.”

“Where did you go, what did you see? Take your time,” Eve encouraged. “Try to see it again.”

“I was thinking about Joe. It’s why I wanted the air, and some time to myself—out of the office. Thinking about him, his wife, his kids. I kept remembering how we’d sat at the bar just before … I didn’t want to say anything in front of Nancy, but Joe and I worked together quite a lot on the side. He often needed a little help on projects.”

“He’d come to you?”

“I was glad to help.” Callaway brushed that away, as if it didn’t need mentioning. “As I said, he has kids, and that long commute every day. A wife who, understandably, wanted his attention when he was home. Sometimes he had trouble keeping his head in the game—a spat with the wife, the kids acting up.”