The in Death Collection Books 11-15 - J. D. Robb [538]
“Did Boyd ever complain to you about this neglect?”
“No. Boyd never complains. He’s much too good-natured.”
“No one’s that good-natured.” Peabody used a smile now, big and wide, girl to girl. “Surely if he’d known or suspected his wife was seeing someone else, he’d have complained.”
“No, no.” Eve rocked up on her toes. “Don’t circle back, don’t give her space to think.”
“What?” Alarmed, McNab grabbed Eve’s arm. “What did she do wrong?”
“She should keep pressing on the victim, dig out the suspect’s buried resentments, get her to voice them. And she needs to keep hitting her with the husband, so she can allude that maybe we’re looking at him after all. The suspect’s obsessed with Boyd Stibbs and the perfect world she’s created around him. You’ve got to chip at the foundation of that, let her feel it crumbling. She’s going off on the other man now, and that gives the suspect the chance to rebuild the fantasy, helps her believe there was another man.”
“Is she losing it?”
Eve dragged a hand through her hair. “She lost some ground.”
“Maybe you should go in.”
“No. She can get it back.”
They went well over McNab’s fifteen minutes, but Eve didn’t order him back to work. She watched Maureen’s confidence rebuild and Peabody’s falter. At one point, Peabody stared into the glass with such obvious panic, Eve had to imagine her own boots bolted to the floor so she couldn’t stride in and take over.
“Got anything to write on?” Eve asked.
“You mean, like paper?” McNab asked. “I’m EDD. We don’t use paper. That would just be wrong.”
“Give me your e-book.” She snatched it from him, coded in a few key phrases. “Go around and knock. Try to look like a cop for a change. Pass this to Trueheart, tell him to pass it to her, then you get out again. Got that?”
“You bet.” He scanned the miniscreen as he hurried out.
Shatter her fantasies
Implicate husband
Make her talk about victim—by name
Obstacle angle was good, keep using it
Watch her hands. Plays with wedding ring when she’s nervous
Dallas
It made McNab grin, so he had to take a minute to set his face into serious lines before he knocked.
“From Dallas,” he whispered, putting his mouth close to Trueheart’s ear, and adding the little flourish of skimming a hard look over Maureen.
“I beg your pardon, Officer Peabody.” Trueheart stepped to the table. “This data just came in.”
He handed her the mini-unit, then stepped back to his post.
When Peabody read the note, she experienced a flood of relief, a geyser of new energy. Very carefully, she set the unit screen down on the table, folded her hands over it.
“What is that?” Maureen demanded. “What did he mean by data?”
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Peabody said in a tone that indicated there was a great deal to worry about. “Can you tell me, Mrs. Stibbs, when you and Mr. Stibbs began to see each other as more than friends?”
“What difference does that make?” Maureen looked down fearfully at the e-book. “If you’re trying to intimate that there was anything going on before Boyd was free—”
“I’m trying to get a timeline, a picture before and after Marsha’s murder. Women know when a man’s interested in them. Was Boyd interested in you?”
“Boyd would never, never have betrayed his vows. Marriage isn’t a convenience to him.”
“The way it was with Marsha.”
“She didn’t fully appreciate him, but he would never have blamed her for it.”
“But you did.”
“That’s not what I said. I simply meant that she wasn’t as devoted to the marriage as it looked from the outside.”
“And you, being a friend of both Boyd’s and Marsha’s were on the inside, and saw the flaws. Boyd was even deeper inside this relationship. The flaws must have been very apparent to him. Very distressing if he felt Marsha was careless about the marriage, about his happiness.”
“She wouldn’t see he was unhappy.”
“But you did. You saw he was unhappy, consoled him when he talked to you about it.”
“No. No. I never . . . he never. He—he’s a very tolerant man. He never said a bad word about Marsha. Not ever. I have to get home.”
“Was he tolerant