Fantasy in Death - J. D. Robb [89]
Respectful, Eve mused. Sensible—and unless she missed her guess, new.
Out of curiosity, Eve tapped one of the techs. “Where can I find Cill?”
“Um. Her office? She’s been in there all morning.”
“Uh-huh. Thanks.”
She glanced at Peabody, then jerked a head toward the stairs. “Most of these people are in their own bubble, or in a bubble with whoever they’re working with. They don’t pop it unless they’re told to or need something. The alibis aren’t going to hold.”
They didn’t find Cill in her office, but in the break room where she sat alone, rubbing her left temple and staring into a power drink. Her head snapped up, and her knuckles whitened on the tube.
“You’re back. Does that mean—”
“No. Not yet.”
Her body slumped. “I don’t know why it matters so much. When you find out who killed Bart, he’ll still be dead. I don’t know why it matters.”
“Don’t you want to know who killed him?”
“Yeah. Yes. But ... right now, it just doesn’t seem to matter. Sorry.” She waved a hand. “I’m just bottomed, I guess. Do you have more questions?”
“Actually, we’re here to notify you that we’ve obtained search warrants for your residence, and those of Benny and Var. They’ll be carried out this morning.”
“I don’t understand. You’re going to search my apartment?”
“That’s correct.”
“But why? For what?”
Eve watched her face change, those sharp green eyes fire, her cheeks flush with furious color. “You think I did this to Bart? To Bart? What the hell is wrong with you? You’re supposed to be ace-high at what you do, and you think I killed Bart?”
“No one’s accusing you. It’s necessary to explore all avenues.”
“That’s just bullshit. You’re getting nowhere so you start hassling us. You waste time with us while whoever killed him gets away with it.” Tears sparkled in her eyes for a moment, but the heat of temper burned them off.
“I thought it didn’t matter, finding Bart’s killer.”
“Don’t you even say his name to me.” Her voice spiked up; her fists clenched. “I don’t want you pawing through my things.”
“We have a warrant to search, and that warrant will be executed. It’s your right to be present during the search, and to have legal counsel or representation present.”
“You’re a stone bitch. I loved him. He was my family. We—Jesus God—we’re having his memorial service this afternoon. His parents are coming. I’ve been dealing with all the details, and now you come at us with this? You think I can just leave and go watch you get your rocks off poking into my private space?”
“Your presence is a right, not an obligation.”
“What’s going on?” Var rushed in with Benny right behind him. “Cilly, we could hear you on Mars. What’s going on?”
“Contact Felicity. We need to contact her right now. This excuse for a cop thinks we killed Bart.”
“What? Come on. No, she doesn’t.”
Var reached her first, squeezed her arm. Once again, Benny followed.
They flanked her. The three points of the triangle, Eve thought.
“What’s going on, Lieutenant?” Var asked.
“She’s going to search our apartments. This morning.”
“What for?” Benny stared at Eve as his arm went around Cill’s shaking shoulders.
“Is that legal?” Var looked from Eve to Peabody and back again. “I mean, don’t you have to ask or get a warrant? Something?”
“We have warrants. As a courtesy, I’m notifying you that these searches will take place this morning. None of you is being accused. We’re simply pursuing all avenues in the investigation.”
“You could’ve just asked.” Benny drew Cill closer, angled his long, skinny frame toward her. “We’d tell you anything you want to know. We have. It’s not right what you’re doing. It’s not right that you’d upset Cill like this, today of all days.”
“It’s Bart’s memorial.” Var pressed his lips together. “Couldn’t you just wait, one day? One day. His parents will be here. If they hear about this it’s only going to make it harder on them. God, isn’t it hard enough?” He turned away, stepped over to brace his hands on the counter. “We’re trying to do what’s right for