Echoes in Death (In Death #44)(71)
The kid cocked her hip—bodily snark. “Maybe they’re busy.”
“Why don’t you find out?”
“Gemma, you’re letting the cold in. You need to … Oh, sorry.”
Eve had seen a slice of beautiful women on this investigation. Toya L’Page towered over the rest.
She easily hit six feet in her skids, and all of it willowy and perfect. Her skin appeared poreless, without artifice, a rich, deep brown smooth over knife-edged cheekbones. Her mouth, full, sharply sculpted, curved slightly. Large tawny eyes showed caution and curiosity as she moved quickly to the door. Subtly draped an arm around the girl’s shoulders, putting herself between Gemma and Eve.
“Can I help you?”
“She says they’re cops,” Gemma announced, with ripe skepticism.
“Oh. Could I see some…” She trailed off as Eve held up her badge again. “Yes, of course. Can I ask what this is about?”
“We’d just like to ask you, and your husband if he’s available, some questions in connection with an investigation.”
“No way Toya or Gray did anything illegal. They’re totally equidistance.”
“We’re making inquiries,” Eve continued, “hoping for assistance in an investigation. Can we come in, Ms. L’Page? We won’t take up much of your time.”
“Of course. I apologize.”
“You don’t have to let them in without a warrant.”
“All right, Gemma.” Toya leaned down, brushed her lips to the girl’s temple. “My sister-in-law is very protective. Please come in.”
“You live here?” Eve asked the girl.
“I could if I wanted.”
“Gemma’s just hanging, right, Gemma? We’re going to try for some skating and sledding later. Will you go tell Gray to come down?”
Gemma shot Eve a warning look, then dashed to a staircase on the side of a spacious, open-concept entrance and living area. Light from the stained glass scattered over old wooden plank floors like jewels.
“This is a beautiful home, Ms. L’Page,” Peabody commented, head swiveling to take in the high ceilings, arched windows, massive fireplace.
“Thank you. We just love it. We’re still tweaking a few things. Please sit.” She gestured to high-backed chairs near the roaring fire, settled herself on a curvy sofa with carved wood trim.
“It was a church pre-Urbans. A nondenominational church and a community gathering place. It served as a shelter and a hospital during the wars, and was abandoned after for some time.”
“You were able to save some of the original features.”
“Some, and some we reconstructed. My husband’s an architect, and he simply fell in love with the building. His father had bought it, mostly for sentiment as he’d worked here, as a medical, during the Urbans.”
She was trying, Eve observed, to be polite, not to show nerves. So Eve let Peabody chat her up.
“My father and my brother are carpenters. They’d really appreciate what you’ve done here. How long have you lived here?”
“This is year three. We don’t count the year before that as it was full of workers and we only stayed occasionally. Sort of camping out. Gray.” Toya got to her feet when her husband came in, Gemma all but glued to his side.
He was tall like his wife, gym-fit, with a striking face with features that made Eve think of exotic islands with grass skirts and tiki huts.
“Is there a problem?”
Eve stood. “We’d like to ask you a few questions in connection with an investigation.”
He gave his sister a narrow stare. “Gemma.”
“I didn’t do anything! And it was a scavenger hunt. I wasn’t stealing. Plus, they’re Homicide. I looked them up before I went to get you. Somebody’s dead, and we sure as hell didn’t kill anybody.”
“Homicide?” Toya wrapped her long, elegant fingers around Gray’s arm.
“Anthony Strazza.”
“Oh God. We heard about that. It’s terrible. Just terrible.”
“Did you know Dr. Strazza or his wife?”
“We never met his wife. Sit down, Toya.” Gray tugged her down on the couch, glanced at his sister. “Gemma, go ask Pauline to make coffee.”
“You’re just trying to get rid of me.”
“I am getting rid of you. Go ask Pauline to make coffee.”
Gemma rolled her eyes, but stomped off.
“She’ll have heard anyway,” Gray said, “or she’ll look it up. I don’t know how we can possibly help your investigation.”
“You knew Dr. Strazza?”
“He operated on my great-grandfather,” Toya told them. “Last winter after he fell and broke his hip, and his wrist. He was out walking the dog, in weather much like this, and he slipped and fell. Late at night, and no one heard him calling for help for more than an hour. I absolutely believe Dr. Strazza saved his life. I met him at the hospital—or we did. and I took Poppy in for follow-ups a few times.”
“You’ve never socialized?”
“Not really. I realized we’d attended some of the same events and functions. And it turned out we have some mutual acquaintances.”
“Could you give me those names?”