Naked in Death (In Death #1)(84)

“We’ll see.”

The house on the hill looked peaceful. Under the cold blue sky, it sat serenely, warmly, with a few brave crocuses beginning to peep out of the winter stung grass.

Appearances, Eve thought, were deceiving more often than not. She knew this wasn’t a home of easy wealth, quiet happiness, and tidy lives. She was certain now that she knew what had gone on behind those rosy walls and gleaming glass.

Elizabeth opened the door herself. If anything, she was paler and more drawn than when Eve had last seen her. Her eyes were puffy from weeping, and the mannishly tailored suit she wore bagged at the hips from recent weight loss.

“Oh, Roarke.” As Elizabeth went into his arms, Eve could all but hear the fragile bones knocking together. “I’m sorry I dragged you out here. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Don’t be silly.” He tilted her face up with a gentleness that tugged at the heart Eve was struggling to hold distant. “Beth, you’re not taking care of yourself.”

“I can’t seem to function, to think, or to do. Everything’s crumbling away at my feet, and I — ” She broke off, remembering abruptly that they weren’t alone. “Lieutenant Dallas.”

Eve caught the quick accusation in Elizabeth’s eyes when she looked at Roarke. “He didn’t bring me, Ms. Barrister. I brought him. I received a call this morning from this location. Did you make it?”

“No.” Elizabeth stepped back. Her hands reached for each other, twisted. “No, I didn’t. It must have been Catherine. She arrived here last night, suddenly. Hysterical, overwrought. Her mother has been hospitalized, and the prognosis is poor. I can only think the stress of the last few weeks has been too much for her. That’s why I called you, Roarke. Richard’s at his wit’s end. I don’t seem to be any help. We needed someone.”

“Why don’t we go in and sit down?”

“They’re in the parlor.” In a jittery move, Elizabeth turned to look down the hall. “She won’t take a sedative, she won’t explain. She refused to let us do more than call her husband and son and tell them she was here, and not to come. She’s frantic at the idea they might be in some sort of danger. I suppose what happened to Sharon has made her worry more about her own child. She’s obsessed with saving him from God knows what.”

“If she called me,” Eve put in. “Then maybe she’ll talk to me.”

“Yes. Yes, all right.”

She led the way down the hall, and into the tidy, sunwashed parlor. Catherine DeBlass sat on a sofa, leaning into her brother’s arms. Eve couldn’t be sure if he was comforting, or restraining.

Richard raised stricken eyes to Roarke’s. “It’s good of you to come. We’re a mess, Roarke.” His voice shook, nearly broke. “We’re a mess.”

“Elizabeth.” Roarke crouched in front of Catherine. “Why don’t you ring for coffee?”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry.”

“Catherine.” His voice was gentle, as was the hand he laid on her arm. But the touch had Catherine jerking up, her eyes going wide.

“Don’t. What — what are you doing here?”

“I came to see Beth and Richard. I’m sorry you’re not well.”

“Well?” She gave what might have been a laugh as she curled into herself. “None of us will ever be well again. How can we? We’re all tainted. We’re all to blame.”

“For what?”

She shook her head, pushed herself into the far corner of the sofa. “I can’t talk to you.”

“Congresswoman DeBlass, I’m Lieutenant Dallas. You called me a little while ago.”

“No, no I didn’t.” Panicked, Catherine wrapped her arms tightly around her chest. “I didn’t call. I didn’t say anything.”

As Richard leaned over to touch her, Eve shot him a warning glance. Deliberately, she put herself between them, sat and took Catherine’s frigid hand. “You wanted me to help. And I will help you.”

“You can’t. No one can. I was wrong to call. We have to keep it in the family. I have a husband, I have a little boy.” Tears began to swim in her eyes, “I have to protect them. I have to go away, far away, so I can protect them.”

“We’ll protect them,” Eve said quietly. “We’ll protect you. It was too late to protect Sharon. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I didn’t try to stop it,” Catherine said in a whisper. “Maybe I was even glad, because it wasn’t me anymore. It wasn’t me.”

“Ms. DeBlass, I can help you. I can protect you and your family. Tell me who raped you.”

Richard let out a hiss of shock. “My God, what are you saying? What — “

Eve turned on him, eyes fierce. “Be quiet. There’s no more secrets here.”

“Secrets,” Catherine said between trembling lips. “It has to be a secret.”

“No, it doesn’t. This kind of secret hurts. It crawls inside you and eats at you. It makes you scared, and it makes you guilty. The ones who want it to be secret use that — the guilt, the fear, the shame. The only way you can fight back is to tell. Tell me who raped you.”

Catherine’s breath shuddered out. She looked at her brother, terror bright in her eyes. Eve turned her face back, held it.