Strangers in Death (In Death #26)(61)

“Lieutenant.” Her voice was smoky music, her eyes tiger gold.

“Ma’am.”

“Ms. Furst, Roarke, I wonder if you’ll excuse us a moment? I need to speak to the lieutenant in private.”

It might’ve been posed as a request, but there was command in the posture. Karla simply turned, and people parted for her as the Red Sea parted for Moses as she strode to the door.

“Courage.” Though there was amusement in his tone, Roarke gave Eve’s shoulder a supportive squeeze.

“Why do they have to have wives? Why do cops have to have wives? I’ll be back in a minute.” With little choice, Eve followed in Karla’s wake, and joined her on the narrow, third-floor terrace.

With the traffic snarling below, Karla stood with her back to the rail. “As the primary on an open homicide, can you possibly think it’s appropriate for you to speak with a reporter at the victim’s memorial?”

“Excuse me, ma’am, Nadine Furst is also a personal friend.”

“Friendship doesn’t apply. You have a position to uphold.”

Screw this, Eve thought. “Yes, I do—as do you. As the wife of the chief of police, can you possibly think it’s appropriate for you to attend the memorial of the victim of an open homicide case, and speak with individuals who may be on the investigator’s suspect list?”

The fury flashed, a beautiful blaze that kindled in those tiger eyes, on that amazing face. Then it banked down to an irritated simmer. “You have a point. It’s very annoying that you have a point.”

“I can assure you that I haven’t discussed the details of the investigation with Nadine, or any other media contact.”

“Yet.”

“She’s a useful source, and—at my discretion as primary—I may elect to use that source. As she’s no pushover, I may elect to trade information for information.”

“Dirt for dirt.”

“If it’s useful dirt, yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, stop calling me ‘ma’am’ as if I were your third-grade teacher.” She spun around to lean on the rail, facing the street this time. “I’m upset, and it set me off to see you huddled with Nadine Furst.”

“I’d huddle with Jack the Ripper if it aided the investigation. I have a job to do. I understand this is upsetting to you. Your friend’s husband has been murdered. You should understand that finding his murderer and building a case against that individual are my priorities.”

“And I’ve already poked my nose in twice.” Karla lifted her hands off the rail in a gesture Eve interpreted as truce. “I don’t make a habit of that.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Ava and I are friendly. We’ve worked closely together on several projects, and I admire her energy, her creative thinking. I liked Tommy Anders very much. He was a generous, unpretentious man, so yes, it’s very difficult to accept he was murdered. And the circumstances of it, the media coverage of it. As the wife of a prominent man, I sympathize with Ava on many levels right now.”

Karla turned around. “As the wife of a prominent man, so should you.”

“As the primary investigator, my sympathies are with the victim.”

“You’re a hardcase, Lieutenant.” Karla shook her head, but the fire had gone out. “Your commander considers you the best of his best. My husband believes you to be brilliant. While I generally stay out of my husband’s business, I pay attention. So I know you have a reputation for getting it done. I suppose it takes a hardcase to get it done. So I’m told you wanted to speak to me about Ava and Tommy.”

“Most specifically about your work with them.”

“You suspect that something within the charity work precipitated Tommy’s murder.”

“I need to cover all areas to conduct a thorough investigation.”

“Which is cop-speak for none of your business.” Karla waved a hand. “I’m not offended. Ava and I worked on a number of projects over the last couple of years. She contacted me initially to ask me to cochair and help coordinate a fashion show. Logical, given my background.”

“A sports fashion show?”

“No, actually, this was geared toward the mothers of children qualified for the sports camps and associated programs. Affordable daywear, work wear, sportswear, with several of the mothers as models. Participating merchants offered generous discounts, and Anders provided each woman with a thousand-dollar wardrobe allowance. Something fun for them, as most of the emphasis is on the children. We followed up a few months later with a children’s show—school clothes, athletic gear. Both were very successful. Ava was tireless.”

“So I’ve learned.”

“We’ve also implemented other activities. We—or Ava and some of the staff and volunteers—took the mothers to a spa resort while their children were at camp. A kind of retreat where for five days they could relax, be pampered, attend seminars, workshops, have discussion groups. It’s a lovely time.”

“You’ve attended.”

“Yes, once or twice. As a den mother, so to speak. It was very rewarding to see these women who rarely have any time for themselves have an opportunity to focus on their own minds, bodies, spirits.”