Indulgence in Death (In Death #31)(88)

“I yelled.” Chaz looked down. “I think I screamed, like a girl. Then I laughed again, because I thought it wasn’t real. I didn’t think it could be.”

“What did you do then?” Eve asked.

“I dropped my tools.” James shuddered. “It sounded like an explosion, in my head anyway. And I ran to the man. I think I was yelling. And Chaz grabbed me, pulled me away.”

“It was the tools. It was so loud when Papa dropped them. Like a slap, I guess. And he was going to try to pull the man off the tree. God.” The boy pressed a hand to his belly.

“Do you need a minute?” Peabody laid a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want some water?”

“No. Thanks, no. I know you’re not supposed to touch anything. It always says so on the cop shows. I watch a lot of screen, and it always says so. I don’t know how I remembered. Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I just didn’t want my father to touch. It was . . . awful.”

“We left. I mean we didn’t stay in the garden. I was afraid someone might still be there, and my boy . . . my son.”

“You did right. It’s okay,” Eve told him.

“We got the tools. I don’t know why, except I always get the tools. And we ran to the truck. We called nine-one-one and said what we saw, and where we were. And we locked the doors and stayed until the police came.”

“Had you ever seen the man before?”

“No, ma’am.” James shook his head. “I don’t think so. Ma’am, Ms. Simpson, Mr. Frost, they’re good people. I’ve worked for them for five years. They have children. This isn’t them. They didn’t do this. They’re not even here.”

“I know. Don’t worry about them. Where is the staff? Where’s the person who lives in these rooms?”

“Oh, that’s Hanna, Ms. Wender. She’s with them in Georgia. And so is Lilian who helps with the children. They go for a month in the summer to their other house.”

“Do they have a droid?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never seen one here. They have Hanna and Lilian, and cleaning people who come twice a week. And me.”

“And do others have a code to access the gate and the garden?”

“I don’t know. I think Hanna would, and Lilian. Lilian takes the children to the park, so they have to go in and out. And Hanna markets and does other things, so she would go in and out. But they’re not here. This was someone else. I don’t know why that man was here, how he got here. Why would someone kill him here? This is a good place, a good home. These are good people.”

“That’s what I’m going to find out. You did everything right, both of you. We’ll take it from here.”

“We can go now?”

“Yeah. Did the officer get your contact information, in case we have to talk to you again?”

“Yes. He has everything. Should I tell Mr. Frost? Ms. Simpson? Should I tell them what we found?”

“We’ll take care of it.”

They rose as Eve did, and Peabody moved to walk them out. The boy turned, met Eve’s eyes. “It’s not like it is on-screen. It’s not really like that at all.”

She thought of Sean standing over a young girl’s body in the Irish woods. “People are always saying that. They’re right.”

18

EVE DID A WALK-THROUGH HERSELF, TO GET A feel for the house, the people who lived there. And to make absolutely certain there were no droids in residence.

She found the wine cellar, well stocked and secured. She’d have EDD check the log, determine the last time a bottle had been removed, but she held the opinion they’d confirm the vic had brought the wine with him from France, and the killer had taken it with him.

She went back to the kitchen. What she knew about cooking wouldn’t fill a teaspoon, but she could gauge the general concept.

She imagined herself back in the kitchen of the farmhouse in Ireland, watching Sinead fix breakfast.

There was an order to these things, she mused

“What would he do first? Take out his supplies, that’s what I’d do. Supplies and tools. Some of the stuff must need refrigeration, so he’d put that in the chiller until he needed it. Put his music on, maybe pour a glass of wine.

“Get everything all organized. Has he worked here before? We’ll want to find out. If he already knew the lay of the land, it wouldn’t take him as long to get set up.”

She opened the oven, studied the fatal chicken. “Roarke said the bird would take a couple hours. It’s probably the longest deal, so he’d do that first.”

“Roarke knows how to roast a chicken?”

“No. He looked it up.”

Peabody poked her head in the oven again, nodded. “A good ninety minutes anyway, less for the veggies, so he’d arrange them in the pot a little later. I actually know how to roast a chicken, but not so fancy. It’s got this sauce, and see he’s trussed it up?”

“Yeah, it’s real pretty. How long to get it in the oven?”

“Hmm. He’s a pro, so maybe not as long as your average. Or maybe longer due to fancy. Maybe half an hour. He’d have to peel and chop the veggies, so that’s a little more time once the bird was in.”

“He’s got this fishy thing in here.” Eve opened the fridge.