“It could be my ass this time. She put you on the banned list.”
“She needs to talk to me. If she won’t let me up, she’ll end up hearing what I have to tell her on a media bulletin. Clear me up, tell her that.”
“Hell, it’s a crap job anyway. You’re clear. Jonah, they’re clear.”
“Copy that.”
“I know the way,” Eve told him, and walked to the elevator she’d used before.
“Fancy,” Peabody said when they stepped on.
“Eyes and ears,” Eve said.
“Really?” Humming to herself, Peabody looked around the car, sniffed the roses. “You get to use the new dojo much?”
“I’ve managed a couple times a week. I’m learning to be a bear, a rooster, a crane, a tiger, a dragon. It’s like the animal kingdom. But somehow it ends up being frosty by the time I’m done.”
“I could like being a dragon,” Peabody speculated, and the doors opened.
Hank gave them a pained look.
“She’s going to have the senator give me the what for when he gets back. You get three minutes, then she’s contacting the governor again.”
“I think she’s not going to do either of those things. Open up, Hank.”
He shook his head, but opened the doors.
Mandy stood, arms crossed, chin up, eyes filled with contempt.
“This is harassment. I’ll be contacting the governor and our lawyers in precisely three minutes ten seconds.
“Mrs. Mira, I regret to inform you that your husband’s dead. We’re sorry for your loss.”
Color hoisted like red flags on her cheeks. “What are you talking about? How dare you come here and say such a thing to me!”
“His body was found hanging from the entrance chandelier in the house on Spring Street. Visible evidence of physical violence was obvious. His body has been transported to the chief medical examiner, who will determine cause of death.”
Mandy lost the red flags, and all of her color—every shade of it. But her voice remained full and furious. “You’re a liar.”
“I am the primary investigator into your husband’s death, and as such have come here to inform you thereof. We understand this is a difficult time for you, but we have some questions. The answers may help us find the person or persons who murdered your husband.”
“Get out, get out of my house. You’re lying. You’re lying to upset me.”
“You know I’m not.”
When she swayed, Hank rushed over, took her by the arm. “Mrs. Mira, ma’am, you need to sit down. You sit down, and I’m going to get you some water.”
“You’re lying.” But this time her voice trembled.
Eve didn’t sit, but stepped over to her. The woman didn’t weep, but sat pale as ice. The shock in her eyes struck as genuine.
“My partner and I entered the house on Spring approximately sixty minutes ago and discovered your husband’s body. I’m a murder cop, Mrs. Mira, a ranked officer. I don’t lie about murder. Can you tell me if you know anyone who would want to kill him?”
“No one would do this. No one would dare.”
“Someone did this, Mrs. Mira. Someone dared. They hurt him, are you hearing me? They made sure he felt pain before they ended it. Who wanted to cause him pain?”
“I don’t know. Go away.”
Peabody made an attempt, her voice soothing, sympathetic. “Is there anyone we can contact for you, Mrs. Mira? Family, a friend?”
“I don’t want your help. Get out. Get out or I’ll have you thrown out!”
Hank rushed back with a glass of water. She grabbed it and flung it across the room. “All of you, get out!”
“You can reach me at Central if you have any questions or want to make a statement.” Eve turned, walked to the door. She glanced back once, saw that Mandy continued to sit, hands gripped together, eyes shocked but dry.
“You’re leaving?” Eve asked Hank as he came out with them, shut the doors.
“I’ll stick for now, in case. I don’t know what to say. Can I contact her son, her daughter?”
“Go ahead. Make sure you give them my name.” She stepped back on the elevator with Peabody. “Good luck, Hank.”
“She’s scary.” Despite eyes and ears, Peabody blurted it out. “I know people react in all kinds of ways to death notifications, but she’s scary.”
“She is what she is, and we did what we came to do.”
Eve’s head throbbed, a dull but steady beat as she drove toward the Miras’ home. Again, she’d do what she had to do—and didn’t expect anyone to call her a liar or throw a glass. Maybe that’s what made this one harder.
She found street parking just over a block from the pretty townhome. When they got out, started to walk, she stuck her hands in her pockets and found the gloves she’d forgotten about.
At least she hadn’t lost them yet.
“Give Nadine the green.” Rolling her shoulders, she started up the short steps to the front door.
She rang the bell, focused on her approach, the basic procedure. The woman who opened it had Mira’s coloring, Mr. Mira’s lankier build. Gillian, Eve remembered, the Wiccan daughter who lived in . . . yeah, New Orleans.
“Dallas. Hi, Peabody.”
“Hey, Gillian. I didn’t know you were in town.”
“I came in last night. I had a feeling, something off, and contacted my mother. So here I am.”
“It’s nice to see you, even given.”
Gillian smiled at Peabody, stepped back. “The same for you. Mom and Dad are in the living room. This is hard on him, so don’t you be.”
“We were figuring on hauling him down to Central in restraints where we keep the saps and rubber hoses.”
Gillian just gave Eve a cool stare with her mother’s eyes. “Let me take your coats.”
She did her hostess duty, then led them in.
They’d lit a fire, and the Miras sat together on the sofa in the pretty room much as they had at the crime scene. He looked tired, Eve thought, and felt a pang of guilt knowing she would add to the strain.
“Cops in the house,” Gillian said, but lightly, before she walked over to sit on the arm of the sofa by her father.
United front.
“We’re sorry, Mr. Mira,” Eve began, “for your loss.”
“Thank you. Edward and I . . . our relationship wasn’t what it had been, but I remember the boy he was. The boys we were together. It was a hard death?”
He looked at her with those kind green eyes. She wanted to lie to him, give him that much. But she couldn’t spare him. “Yes, it was.”
“It’s odd, even with Charlotte’s work, and knowing what people can and will do to people, you never expect it to happen to one of your own. Despite our differences, Edward was my family. You’ve spoken to Mandy?”
“We were just there.”
“She won’t answer her ’link,” Mira explained. “Dennis is concerned about her.”
“She . . .” How to put it? Eve wondered.
“Her personal security was contacting her children,” Peabody put in.
“That’s good.” He patted Gillian’s knee. “They’re a comfort. I know she’s a difficult woman. You’re too polite to say.”
“I’m not all that polite,” Eve said, making him laugh, just a little.
“I’ll bet you haven’t had lunch.”
The segue threw Eve off balance. “We aren’t really—”
“You have to eat. I’m going to make sandwiches.”
“Mr. Mira, I’m sorry, but we need to ask you some questions. I need to interview you, on the record. I need to read you your rights.”
“You’re not treating him like a suspect.” Gillian shoved off the arm of the sofa, an arrow yanked from the quiver.
“Gillian, I explained this to you.” Mira rubbed Dennis’s thigh, rose. “It’s procedure, and has to be done.”
“I don’t care about procedure.”
“I have to,” Eve said, then looked at Dennis. “I’m sorry. I have to.”
“Of course you do. But you also need to eat. We can do this in the kitchen while I make sandwiches.”
“Dad, I made soup, remember?”