Strangers in Death (In Death #26)(118)

“Officer Trueheart did—on record. Covers us both, Ava.” Eve smiled broadly. “Oh, and you may not have recognized the guy talking to Roarke outside. But he’s the kind of businessman who takes precautions. You had one of your volunteers pick up the remote—but I’ve got a solid witness who followed her all the way to your house, where it was delivered. It’s just icing on my cake. But, upside for you? You’re going to get hours and hours of screen time over this.”

Eve shook her head, picked up her files and bags. “You stupid, pitiful murderer.”

Ava came up like a tidal wave, heaving the table aside. That tight skin she’d worn for years was split into shreds now, Eve noted.

“Stupid? We’ll see who’s stupid at the end of the day, you bitch. Nobody’s going to believe any of this. I have friends. Powerful friends and between us we’ll eat you and your ridiculous interview to bits.”

“Lady, you’ve got no one. You did have. You had a good, decent man who loved you.”

“What do you know about it? What do you know? Sixteen years of my life invested in a man who obsessed about golf and box scores, and children that weren’t his own. I earned everything I have.”

“Marrying it isn’t earning it.”

“You married money. Who are you to talk?”

“I married a man. The man. You’ll never get that. Your kind isn’t capable of it. On the door.”

When it opened, she passed out the files and bags to the officer outside, then turned back. “Ava Anders, you’re under arrest for the murder of Ned Custer, and for conspiracy to murder Thomas A. Anders. Other charges include—”

“Get me a f**king lawyer. Get the Prosecuting Attorney in here. Now, goddamn it. He’ll make a deal for my testimony against that twit.”

“You can have the lawyer, but the PA already made a deal with Suzanne Custer this morning.” Eve grinned. “Psych.”

She saw it coming. God, she’d been praying for it all through the interview. Anticipating it so that the cop on the door, and those in Observation stayed back, as she’d ordered, when Ava charged her.

She turned away from the nail swipe so those long, pretty nails barely broke the skin under her jaw. And she took the first shove that bashed her into the wall.

The rest would look better on the record that way. Eve stomped on Ava’s instep, plowed an elbow into her gut, then finished with a solid uppercut.

She studied the woman sprawled unconscious at her feet. “Guess we’ll get into those other charges when you wake up. On the door.” Eve stepped over Ava. “You and another officer take her down through Booking when she regains consciousness. She wants a lawyer, see that she’s allowed to contact one.”

“Yes, sir. Lieutenant, you’re bleeding some.”

“Yeah.” Eve brushed her fingertips over the nail marks. “All in a day’s. Interview end.”

Reo was the first out of Observation. “Good enough for you?” Eve asked her.

“And then some. I’m going to make her lawyers cry like babies. Fun for me now. You’ve had yours.”

“Showed?”

“To those of us who know and love you. You should’ve decked her before she scratched you.”

Eve angled her head, tapped just below the marks. “Jury’s going to love it, if it goes that far. Wrap her up, Reo. I want to take a moment out of my day now and then to think about her rotting in a cement cage off-planet.”

“Anything for a pal. I’d better get to it.”

“Peabody, get the paperwork on this, will you?”

“Sure, it was fun to watch, so writing it up’s fair as the price of admission.”

She started by, but Baxter stepped in her path. And held out a hand. A bit baffled she took it, shook. “It’s a good day,” he said, and she nodded.

“Yeah, it’s a good day. You’re back off the roll until Monday.”

“I’ll see this through, then I’m off.”

She cut through to her office for a quick boost of coffee. Thinking of Tibble—and more important, his wife—she decided she’d contact Commander Whitney, give her oral. And let him pass it on. Just in case.

“Sit,” Roarke ordered as he walked in with a small first-aid kit.

“Look Nurse Studly—”

“We’ll play Nurse Studly and Patient Sexy later. Now sit so I can doctor those scratches. Nasty cats like that have nasty germs.”

“She is pretty nasty.” Eve sat, tipped up her head. “I should’ve just knocked her back. If I get slapped for knocking her out, I’ve got it coming.”

“I don’t think so.”

“The instep was for Suzanne’s kids, the elbow in the gut was for me. The knockout, that was for Tommy Anders.”

As he cleaned and medicated the scratches, Roarke met her eyes. “She deserved each, and the rest you’ve seen to she’ll get. You strung it out quite a bit.”

“Yeah, that was indulgent. But I liked how she kept twisting herself up, changing her story. And all the tinglies were tough to resist. She’s good at planning, but she’s crappy at thinking on her feet. Makes it tougher for her lawyers when she gives so many conflicting statements in one interview. Plus, she’s not going to be able to afford a bunch of fat lawyers now.”