Divided in Death (In Death #18)(6)

"I was furious, and I knew just what I wanted to do. I'd designed the security here, so I knew how to get in. I broke in."

She dashed a tear off her cheek. "I didn't want to give them time to prepare, so I broke in, and I went upstairs, to her bedroom."

"Did you have a weapon?"

"No... Well, I had a stunner. My SS issue, reconfigured. It won't go over minimum power, so I can carry it with a civilian license. I was..." She heaved a breath. "I was going to give him a jolt with it. On the balls."

"And did you?"

"No." She covered her face with her hands. "I can't remember clearly. It's like this smear over my brain."

"You tear up the leather jacket?"

"Yeah." She sighed now. "I saw it hanging over the rail. I gave him that goddamn jacket, and seeing it just made me crazy. I took out my minidrill and went to work on it. Petty, I know it was petty, but I was so angry."

"Doesn't seem petty to me," Eve said, keeping her tone mild and just a little sympathetic. "Husband's cheating on you with your pal, you'd want to get some of your own back."

"That's the way I felt. Then I saw them in the bed, together. And I saw them-dead. The blood. I've never seen so much blood. She screamed-no, no, I screamed. I must've screamed."

She rubbed a hand over her throat, as if she could still feel the sound ripping through it. "Then I passed out-I think. I smelled something. The blood, but something. Something else, and I passed out. I don't know how long."

She reached for the glass of water, drank deeply. "I woke up, and I felt fuzzy and sick and strange. Then I saw them, on the bed. I saw them again and I crawled out. I couldn't seem to stand up, so I crawled out, to the bathroom and got sick. I called my mother. I don't know why exactly. I should've called the police, but I called Mom. I wasn't thinking straight."

"Did you come here tonight with the intention of killing your husband and your friend?"

"No. I came here with the intention of pitching a royal fit. Lieutenant, I'm going to be sick again. I need to-"

She clutched her stomach, then sprang up and ran. Eve was on her heels when Reva flung open a door and dived into a powder room. Dropping to her knees, she was hideously ill.

"Burns," she managed, and gratefully took the damp cloth Eve offered. "Burns my throat."

"You take any illegals tonight, Reva?"

"I don't do illegals." She mopped the cloth over her face. "Believe me, you're raised by Caro, screened by the Secret Service, then Roarke, you don't screw around." Exhaustion in every line of her body, she leaned back against the wall. "Lieutenant, I've never killed anyone. I carried a weapon when I stood for the President, and once took a hit for her. I've got a temper, and when I'm riding on it, I can be rash. Whoever did that to Blair, to Felicity, wasn't rash. They had to be crazy. Fucking out of their minds. I couldn't have done it. I couldn't have."

Eve crouched down so they were eye-to-eye. "Why do you sound like you're trying to convince yourself of that, Reva, as much as me?"

Her lips trembled, her eyes swam with fresh tears. "Because I can't remember. I just can't remember." She covered her face with her hands, and wept.

Eve left her long enough to get Caro. "I want you to sit with her," Eve instructed. "I'm going to put a guard with you momentarily. That's procedure."

"Are you arresting her?"

"I haven't made that determination. She's cooperating, and that's going to help. It'd be best if you bring her in here, keep her in this room until I come back."

"All right. Thank you."

"I've got to get my field kit out of the car."

"I'll get it." Roarke walked out with her. "What do you think?"

"I'm not thinking anything until I secure and examine the scene."

"Lieutenant, you're always thinking."

"Let me do my job. You want to help? Direct my partner and the CSU upstairs when they arrive. Until then, you need to back off or you'll just muck up the works."

"Tell me one thing. Should I advise Reva to contact a lawyer?"

"You put me in a hell of a fix." She snatched the field kit from him. "I'm a cop. Let me go be a cop. You figure out the rest. Goddamn it to hell and back again."

She stomped upstairs. Breaking open the kit, she yanked out a can of Seal-It and coated her hands and boots. Then, fixing a recorder on her lapel, she re-entered the crime scene and got to work.

She'd progressed to the bodies themselves when she heard the creak of a floorboard. She whirled, ready to snap at the intruder, and bit back the oath when she spotted Peabody.

She was going to have to get used to her former aide's lack of clomping. The new detective no longer wore the hard-soled cop shoes of uniform, but cushy airsneaks that were all but soundless. And just, in Eve's opinion, a little spooky.

She had them, apparently, in every color of the rainbow, including the mustard yellow she wore now to match her jacket. Despite them, and the straight-legged black pants and scoop-necked top, she managed to look pressed and polished and coplike.

Her square face was sober and concerned, and framed by her standard 'do, the straight bowl cut that seemed to suit her dark hair.