Apprentice in Death (In Death #43)(57)

“The target range—the indoor one in Brooklyn, I don’t know the name. And there’s some other place for target shooting, indoors and out; it’s in New Jersey.”

Eve shook her head. “Anywhere less structured?”

“I know he took her out west—Montana. And I think they went out west without clearing it with me. I stopped asking because they’d lie, and Willow would lie in a way that made it clear she lied. Do you have any children, Lieutenant?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t know what it’s like to fail as a mother.” Younger looked away, her eyes shattered. “I don’t know how to save her now.”

“Ms. Younger, we’re going to do everything we can to find her, to bring her in without harming her, to stop her before she causes more harm. What you’ve told me may help us do that. I’m going to have you taken back to your family. We’re going to take all of you somewhere safe until we find Willow.”

“Will I be able to see her, to talk to her when you do?”

“Yes.”

But she may not talk to you, Eve thought.





11


Eve didn’t have time for hysteria, and ten seconds after walking in to interview Alyce Ellison she wished, bitterly, she’d left the woman to Jenkinson and Reineke.

“Why is he trying to kill me?” Ellison’s shriek cut a dull, jagged groove through Eve’s skull. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t hurt anybody! Somebody’s trying to kill me.”

“Ms. Ellison—”

“The police came to my apartment! I didn’t even finish my dinner! People are going to think I’ve been arrested! I didn’t do anything! I could be killed any second!”

As she raved, Ellison whirled around the room, her arms alternately waving like flags, then coiling around her stick-figure body as if to hold what there was of it together. Her eyes, heavily lined in glittery blue, bugged out of her narrow face. Her mouth, heavily dyed in shiny red, never stopped moving.

“Sit down and knock it off.”

“What? What? Would you sit down if your life was in danger?”

“Lady, I’m a cop. My life’s in danger daily and I know how to sit down. Watch this.”

To demonstrate, Eve sat at the Interview table.

“Being in danger’s what you get paid for! Someone’s trying to kill me.”

“Not at the moment, so sit the hell down. Sit!” Eve snapped.

“You can’t talk to me like that.” Now tears swam, an ocean between glittery shores. “I’m a citizen.”

“Right now you’re wasting the time of the investigators on a series of homicides. Sit, shut it, or get out.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You have to protect me. I’ll—I’ll sue!”

“You have to be alive to sue.” Eve got up, walked to the door, opened it. “Sit or get out. Now.”

Ellison sat, dissolving into wild sobs. “You’re mean. You’re just mean.”

“I can be meaner because blubbering’s wasting my time, too. Suck it up. You’re alive and well and in protective custody. We plan on keeping you alive and well. Want that? Pull yourself together and answer some questions.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“You knew Susann Mackie.”

“I didn’t hurt her!” Ellison lifted her blubbering-splotched face. “I could have fired her, but I didn’t. I gave her another warning, that’s all.”

“What kind of warning?”

“About being late, and about forgetting to check the stock, and about how long she talked to customers. It’s not my fault she got hit by a car!”

“When did you give her the warning?”

“Which time?” Ellison sniffled now, blinked fat tears from her sparkly eyes. “I had to talk to her every month, explain again how uneven her evaluations were because she was never on time to work or from her breaks, and she’d end up talking to a customer for like ten minutes instead of selling anything.”

“Why didn’t you fire her?”

Ellison sighed. “Because when she did sell, she did really well, and a lot of customers came back and went to her, especially. And she was nice, you just had to like her. She had a really good eye for fashion, for what looked good. She always looked good, and she could—when she wasn’t off daydreaming—steer a customer to just the right outfit or accessory. I liked her. We all went to her memorial. I cried and cried.”

I bet, Eve thought.

“Did you warn her the day she went to the doctor on her lunch break?”

Those glossy red lips trembled. “I had to. It was evaluation day, and I had to. I told her she had to be on time, just had to show improvement in that area. She said she was sorry and she would. She always said that, and she’d usually be on time for a few days, even a week after eval, and then . . . But that day, she never came back from lunch.”

Ellison started to cry again. “I was so mad. We were really slammed—we had a major sale going, and I was really mad. I tagged her ’link, and got v-mail, and I was harsh. I said how if she didn’t respect me or the position enough to be back from her lunch break on time, she just shouldn’t come back at all. I didn’t know she was dead.”