The In Death Collection Books 16-20 - J. D. Robb [337]
“Because they think I talk to him? But—”
“No. Because he talked to them.”
She jerked back as if Eve had struck her. “That’s not possible.” The words came out in a croak. “You’re saying that Blair had knowledge of, had contact with this radical terrorist group? That he fed them information? That’s ludicrous.”
“I’m saying it’s a possibility I’m going to explore. I’m saying person or persons unknown went to a lot of trouble to kill Bissel and Kade and point the finger at you. And if this had been taken as the classic crime of passion it appeared to be, those units wouldn’t have been given more than a cursory look.”
She waited, just a beat, as she watched the possibilities hit home with Reva. “It would be assumed that you, with your knowledge of computers and your temper, destroyed them out of spite. That the changes in security at Bissel’s gallery would be considered a glitch.”
“I can’t—I can’t believe this of him.”
“What you believe or don’t believe is up to you. But if you look deeper, if you start tugging on all the threads, you start to see there’s a lot more here than a couple of murders and a suspect served up to the cops on a shiny, silver platter.”
Reva got up, walked to the wide window that looked out over the river. “I can’t . . . You want me to believe this, to accept it, and if I do, it means everything was a lie. Right from the beginning, it was a lie. He never loved me. Or he loved me so little, he was seduced by whatever these people offered him. Money, or power, or just the thrill of playing techno-espionage for real instead of on VR. You want me to believe he used me, exploited everything I’ve worked for, the trust and respect I’ve earned in my field.”
“If you look at it straight, it’s about him. It’s not about you.”
Reva only stared out the window. “I loved him, Lieutenant. Maybe from where you’re sitting that’s weak of me, and stupid of me, but I loved him, the way I’ve never loved anyone else. If I accept all this, I have to let go of that, and everything it means to me. I’m not sure prison’s any worse.”
“You don’t have to believe anything, or accept anything. That’s your choice. But unless you want to find out if prison’s any worse, you’ll cooperate. You’ll submit to Truth Testing, level three, tomorrow at oh eight hundred. You’ll agree to full psychiatric eval by the departmental psychiatrist, and you’ll instruct your attorneys to clear all of your records. All of them, and those of your husband. If there are any sealed records—either yours or his—you will authorize us to break them.”
“I don’t have any sealeds,” Reva replied softly.
“You were Secret Service. You’ll have sealeds.”
She turned back, and her eyes were dazed like a woman living in a dream. “You’re right. Sorry. I’ll authorize.”
“And yours,” Eve said to Caro.
“Why hers?” The earlier resentment was forgotten as she leaped to her mother’s defense. “She’s not part of this.”
“She’s connected to you, to the victim, and to the project.”
“If you think she might be in danger, she should have protection.”
“I’ve seen to it, Reva,” Roarke stated, and earned a quick, surprised look from Caro.
“You might have mentioned it,” she mumbled, then sighed. “But I won’t argue. And I’ll take care of the authorization immediately.”
“Good. Meanwhile, both of you think, go back over any conversations you might have had with either victim, or anyone else for that matter, about work. Particularly this Code Red. I’ll be in touch.”
Eve started for the door, but Roarke lingered another moment. “Get some rest, both of you. Take tomorrow if you need it, but I expect you both back to work the following day.” He glanced over at Eve. “Any problem with that, Lieutenant?”
“Not for me. That’s your deal.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Detective”—Caro opened the door—“I hope you get some rest yourselves.”
“We’ll get to it.”
Eve waited until they were in the elevator and heading down before she spoke to Peabody.