Ceremony in Death - J. D. Robb [56]
“We’ll make sure they don’t.” He locked the disc away. “For now, this stays here.”
“Feeney—”
“Not at this time, Lieutenant.”
Damn if she’d be brushed off like a fly, she thought, and set her jaw. “Commander, my investigation to this point discloses absolutely no connection between DS Wojinski’s private investigation and Captain Feeney. I can find no evidence that Feeney tampered with any records for Frank.”
“Do you actually believe Feeney would leave evidence, Dallas?”
She kept her eyes level. “I’d know if he was involved. He’s grieving for both his friend and his goddaughter, and he doesn’t know anything other than the official line on either. He doesn’t know, Commander, and he has a right to.”
It was going to cost them, Whitney knew. All of them. But it couldn’t be helped. “I can’t take his personal rights into consideration, Lieutenant. Believe me, IAD won’t. All data here is on need-to-know only. It’s a rough spot. You’ll have to handle it.”
It ate a hole in her gut, but she nodded. “I’ll handle it.”
“What connection is this to the body left outside your home this morning?”
Left with no choice, she fell back on training and delivered data. “Robert Mathias, known as Lobar, white male, eighteen years. My report on cause of death is the throat wound, but the body was also mutilated. The victim was a member of Cross’s cult. I also interviewed him last night at his place of employment. A club called The Athame, owned by Selina Cross.”
“People you talk to are ending up dead very quickly, Dallas.”
“He was Cross’s alibi for the night Alice was killed. Hers and Alban’s. He corroborated this during questioning.” She opened her bag. “He wasn’t killed at the scene, and he was left there in a manner designed to indicate a ritual killing.” She placed one of the death stills on Whitney’s desk.
“The murder weapon was likely the knife he’s got stuck in his groin. It’s an athame—a ritual knife. Supposedly, Wiccans dull the blade and use it only for symbolism.” She took out another shot, a close-up of the note. “The message appears to indicate the murder was done by an enemy of the Church of Satan.”
“Church of Satan,” Whitney muttered. The death photo didn’t sicken him, it tired him. He’d seen far too many. “The ultimate oxymoron. Someone took a dislike to the practices and took him out.”
“The scene was set that way. It’s possible, and I’ve got a couple of lines I can tug on that angle.”
He looked up from the photo. “You’re thinking Cross had a hand in this. She’d execute her own alibi.”
“She’d execute her own progeny if she had any. I think she’s smart,” Eve continued. “And I think she’s crazy. I’ll be consulting with Mira on that end. But I also think she’d get a real bang out of doing this, out of rubbing it in my face. She didn’t need him anymore. I had his statement.”
Whitney nodded, pushed the photos back to her. “Talk to her again. And this Alban.”
“Yes, sir.” She put the photos away. “There’s more. It’s…delicate.”
“What?”
“I’ve deleted any reference to this from the official report. Slightly altered the timing. For the record, Roarke and I were awakened by the security alarm, which was tripped when the body was placed against the perimeter wall. Off the record, we didn’t discover the body initially. Jamie Lingstrom did.”
“Jesus,” Whitney said after a long minute. He pressed his fingers over his eyes. “How?”
Eve cleared her throat and gave a quick and concise report of everything that took place after the alarm. She concluded with what Jamie had told her at the breakfast table.
“I don’t know how much of that you want to feed to IAD. Jamie’s statement corroborates Alice’s contention that Frank was trying to trap Cross.”
“I’ll filter out what