Strangers in Death (In Death #26)(107)

“When you were at the retreat and made your bargain, where were you?”

“In Ava’s suite. She told me to come up after the last seminar, but not to tell anyone. People get jealous. She just wanted to relax with a friend.” Tears spurted again. Eve wondered how the woman had any more in her. “She said we were friends.”

“You had drinks. Did she order them?”

“There was a bottle of wine and a pretty platter of fruit and cheese. Everything was so pretty.”

“Did anyone call or come by while you were there?”

“No. She had the Do Not Disturb on the door and the ’links. So we could relax, she said.”

Eve pressed a little more, then judged she’d wrung Suzanne dry. For now. “You’re going to be booked, and you’re going to be remanded. The court’s going to assign an attorney to you. You’ve got the best deal you’re going to get. Don’t expect any more.”

She rose as Baxter came back in. “Detective Baxter reentering Interview.” When she crossed to him, he spoke quietly.

“Got the search warrant. Do you want me to take that?”

“No. Walk her through Booking. She’s tapped out for now.”

“I contacted the sister while I waited for the warrant to come through. She’s confused and shocked, like you’d expect. She’s making arrangements to come up for the kids. CS cleared that.”

“You pushed some buttons.”

“The kids are going to have it hard enough. Not their fault.”

“Walk her through,” Eve repeated. “I’ll have Peabody and Trueheart exercise the warrant. I need a couple hours to sort through all this. We need to keep this arrest off the radar.”

With a nod, Baxter walked to Suzanne. “You need to come with me now.”

Eve waited until he’d led Suzanne through the door. “Interview end.” Then she dragged her hands through her hair. “Christ. Jesus Christ.”

When she stepped out, Mira was there. “I don’t want to hear about her emotional trauma, her fear of authority figures, or her goddamn remorse. Thomas Anders died by her hand.”

“Yes, he did. That doesn’t make her less pitiable. A year in prison, twenty years, Suzanne Custer’s life is essentially over. It was over the minute Ava Anders targeted her.”

“Tell me this: Did Suzanne Custer know what she was doing when she put that rope around Thomas Anders’s neck? Was she legally, mentally—and I’ll even go one more—morally aware of right and wrong?”

“Yes, she was. She is culpable for her act, and should pay for what she did. Are there extenuating circumstances, would I—or any other psychiatrist—consider diminished capacity? Yes. But she killed Thomas Anders fully aware of her actions.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

“Eve. You’re so angry.”

“Damn right I am. Sorry, I don’t have time to comb through my own psyche. I’ve got work.” She turned, and pulling out her communicator, strode away.

In her office, she hit the AutoChef for coffee before sitting down at her desk to begin the calculations for the most likely lots Ava had used, and the rest stop where she’d taken Suzanne. Little bits, she thought. Little bits and pieces. While the computer worked, she wrote her report on the interview, made notes, added to her time lines.

When the computer spit out its most probables, she studied the map, gauged the distances, the locations, simmered them with her understanding of Ava.

“I think we’ve got that. Yeah, I think we do,” she muttered. And only grunted at the knock on her door.

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

She barely glanced at Roarke. “She doesn’t go far—just far enough. But she’s not as f**king smart as she thinks she is. Doesn’t know people as well as she believes.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” He sat on the corner of her desk. “A moment?”

“I don’t have much of a moment. Suzanne copped to it all. Jesus, it was like flipping a switch on a dike or a dam, whatever, and having it all gush out. Ava went for the weak, the runt of the litter you could say. Miscalculated. Makes Suzanne easy to manipulate.”

“And that was the miscalculation,” he said with a nod. “Because you’re very good at manipulating.”

“She counted on the power of her personality, of the pecking order to push Suzanne into doing the job. But she read her partner wrong. Way wrong. My take? She believed Suzanne would be flattered and happy to hook up with her, believed Suzanne would be grateful to be rid of her lousy husband, and do exactly what she was told. She had contingency plans, sure—she’s always got herself a Plan B, C, or D, but she didn’t see that under it, Suzanne’s a major f**kup.”

“That’s harsh.”

“She deserves harsh.” The anger roiled inside her. “At any point, any f**king point, she could’ve stopped. Back in August when Ava proposed the plan, she could’ve stopped. When Ava told her how she’d killed her husband, she could’ve stopped. Any time over the last two months, she could’ve stopped. In the hour she was in the house with Anders, she could’ve stopped. And now it’s all, gee, I’m sorry? Boo-hoo? I feel sick? Screw that.”

“Does she enrage you for what she did, or that she was weak enough to do it?”