Blood Trust - Eric van Lustbader [128]
She got out of the car and, checking out the sprinkling of A-list cars, went up the steps and rang the bell. She had a flash of a uniformed maid opening the door, but it was Rachel Cowan, ragged as a battlefield pennant, who greeted her and ushered her inside.
The interior did not disappoint. It was a breathtaking display of egregious consumerism run rampant. They stood in the vast living room. Rachel was either too aggrieved or too rude to ask her to sit down. Glancing around, Heroe didn’t know whether she would want to. This level of consumerism gave her hives.
“I apologize for disturbing you at what must be a difficult time,” Heroe said.
“And yet you did.”
Not a promising beginning.
Rachel, perhaps appropriately dressed in the color of dried blood, stood with her hands clasped in front of her. There were deep circles under her eyes, which were red and raw-looking. She looked exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept in days, and her eyes kept darting here and there. Heroe wondered whether she was on some medication, or ought to be.
“No matter,” Rachel continued as if there had been no pause. “What is it you want?”
Heroe took out her pad, giving her a bit more time to assess her subject. She strongly suspected that she needed to strike the right tone to get Rachel to open up.
“I understand your sister was here to see you yesterday.”
“That’s right.” There was a wary note in her voice.
“Can you tell me about it?” Heroe said as casually as she could.
Rachel turned gimlet-eyed and she crossed her arms over her breasts. “Why? Are you investigating her or something?”
Heroe gestured. “It’s nothing like that, I assure you.”
“Because if you are, there isn’t a better or more dedicated agent in the Secret Service.”
“Your loyalty is admirable, Mrs. Cowan, and I appreciate your opinion. But not to worry, we’re interested in Naomi’s partner.”
Rachel seemed to relax somewhat. “I doubt I can help you, then. Peter stayed in the car while Naomi and I were together.”
Heroe made a notation. “You mean he drove her here?”
Rachel nodded. “That’s right.”
“So you didn’t see her car?”
“They came in one car, that much I saw, and it wasn’t hers.”
Interesting, Heroe thought. So it stands to reason that Wilde and McKinsey went from here directly to the place where she was killed, otherwise she would have retrieved her cell from her car.
“Do you know McKinsey well?”
Rachel made a sound, as if releasing a puff of air. “I don’t know him at all, beyond meeting him a couple of times.”
“Your sister never spoke to you about him?”
“Naomi never spoke to me—or anyone, for that matter—about anything pertaining to her work. She made that clear to every person she knew, including me.”
Heroe wrote that down, but she needed to be certain, so she said, “Did your sister mention Peter McKinsey yesterday in any context whatsoever?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“Okay, I guess that’s it, then.” Heroe thought a minute. “By the way, Mrs. Cowan, did Naomi mention where she was going after she left you?”
“Work, she said.” Rachel shrugged. “That’s typical of her; work is where her head always is.” She said this without rancor.
Heroe looked up, her inner radar suddenly on high alert. “So she wasn’t going home.”
“No, I told you. Work, work, work.” Rachel bit her thumbnail, her eyes turned inward. “Something I’m quite certain I’m going to have to look into now.”
Heroe nodded and moved toward the entryway. “Okay, thank you, Mrs. Cowan. You’ve been very helpful.”
The compliment appeared to stir Rachel out of her dark ruminations, and she turned toward the chief detective. “Really?”
Heroe knew when to turn on her smile, whose wattage was considerable. “Really.” She paused. “By the way, did Naomi by any chance tell you where she was going,