Promises in Death (In Death #28)(103)

“I’ve been having dreams, kind of conversational dreams with her. It’s weird. Weird because I know it’s my head holding both ends of the conversation, but . . . I had this thought the other night at the shower deal. This thought that I guess comes out of those weird conversation dreams. I think I would’ve liked her okay if I’d given her more of a chance, when there was a chance. I think if that shower deal had been another six months or so down the road, she’d have been there.”

“It’s harder knowing that.”

“It’s f**king brutal actually.”

“Dallas. Sorry, Dr. Mira.” Peabody poked her head in the door. “Alex Ricker’s on his way in.”

“Good. Set up for interview.”

Wait’s over, she thought.

21

ALEX SAT WITH HIS COMPLEMENT OF LAWYERS while Eve and Peabody set up, while Eve engaged the recorder and read off the salients. Though she’d Mirandized him before, she did so again.

“Questions?” she asked pleasantly. “Comments? Snide remarks?”

As she expected, the head suit went into a prepared riff on Mr. Ricker’s voluntary presence, on his willingness to cooperate, the previous examples of his cooperation. She let it run through, then nodded.

“Is that it? All finished now? Or would you like to give examples of Mr. Ricker’s kindness to the little orphaned children and small puppies?”

Harry Proctor looked down his important nose. “I’ll make a note of your sarcasm and discourteous attitude.”

“My partner here keeps them on disc.”

“I can get you a copy,” Peabody offered.

“And here’s what I’m making a note of. The cooperative and civil-minded Mr. Ricker comes into interview with not one, not two, but three—count them, three—lawyers. Makes me wonder just what you’ve got to worry about, Alex.”

“I believe in being prepared, particularly when it comes to the police.”

“I bet you do. But, golly, it’s strange that someone who’s prepared, a businessman of your . . . caliber would be, as he claims, oblivious to the machinations—don’t you love that word, Peabody?”

“Top-ten favorite.”

“Let’s say it again, to the machinations of his personal assistant and longtime best pal, Rod Sandy. That you’d just be blissfully ignorant of Sandy and your father’s plotting and planning. It makes you kind of an idiot, doesn’t it?”

It got a rise of color along his cheekbones, but Alex’s voice remained neutral. “I trusted Rod. My mistake.”

“Oh boy, wasn’t it just? We’re talking years here, Alex. Your boyfriend’s been socking away money your daddy paid him to spy on you, to pass info on. You can probably think back to a deal that didn’t pan out the way you wanted, and wonder if it’s because your old man had the inside track and felt like screwing with you.”

“Am I in here to admit a trusted friend used me for his own gain, and my father enjoys complicating my life? Admitted. Freely. Is that all?”

“Not even close. It’s got to piss you off.”

“Again, freely admitted.”

“In your shoes I’d want some payback.” Eve gave Peabody a speculative glance. “If my partner here worked me that way and I found out? She couldn’t run far or fast enough.”

“And I can run pretty fast given the right incentive.”

“I’d make her pay for it. How do you think I’d make you pay for it, Peabody?”

“In the most painful and humiliating way possible.”

“See how well we know each other? The difference in the situations and personalities as I see it is I wouldn’t end her. I’d want her to hurt and fear me for a long, long time. But we all have our different definition of fun. Did you have fun killing Sandy, Alex?”

“That accusation—”

Alex simply lifted a hand to cut the lawyer off. “Rod’s dead? How?”

She’d kept a lid on it and saw now she’d been right to do so. He hadn’t known, Eve thought. His network hadn’t found Sandy, or hadn’t been ordered to look quite deep enough. “I’m asking the questions. He betrayed you, made a fool of you, now he’s dead. That’s a one plus one equals two kind of deal around here. Of course, that’s if we believe you were the goat.”

She tipped back casually in her chair. “We could speculate that you and Sandy were duping your father. Take his money and Sandy feeds him what you want him to eat. You’re smart enough to do that.”

“It’s exactly what I would have done, if I’d known.”

“You’re in a tough spot here, Alex. Say you knew and it could take you off the hook on Sandy’s murder. But say you knew, and—since he’s implicated in Coltraine’s murder—that could tie you to a cop killing. Say you don’t know, and you come off a fool who’d probably want some of his own back.”

“Lieutenant Dallas,” Proctor began, “my client can hardly be held responsible for the actions of . . .”

Eve didn’t bother to listen, didn’t bother to interrupt. She just kept looking at Alex. It was Alex who finally shut the lawyer down, and leaned toward Eve. “I don’t know when my father got his hooks into Rod. I intend to find out, but I don’t know how long ago. I don’t know why Rod betrayed me for money. Now I’ll never know. You may not think the why would be important. It’s essential to me. I didn’t want Rod dead. I wanted to know why, I wanted to know if he had anything, anything at all to do with Ammy’s death. I wanted to look in his face and know if he could’ve done that to her, to me. And why.”