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“Yes. Mrs. Steeple, did Lily do crafts?”

“Crafts? Lily?” A smile trembled onto her lips. “No. She didn’t like to play house, as she called it. It was part of the problem between her and Rip. He wanted a homebody, and Lily just wasn’t.”

“You have what look like handcrafted pieces in the other room.”

“Kiki’s room, too,” Peabody added. “It’s a lovely quilt on her bed.”

“That’s my work. When I got pregnant with Drew, our son, I decided—well, we decided,” she amended, linking her fingers with her husband’s, “that I’d try the professional mother route. I wanted to be able to stay home with the children. Then I realized, pretty quickly, I’d need something to do. I started quilting, then that expanded to needlepoint, macramé. I enjoy it.”

“Where do you get your supplies?”

“What does this have to do with Lily?”

“Mrs. Steeple, where do you get your craft supplies?”

“A number of places.” She named several on Eve’s list.

“Did Lily ever go with you, when you shopped for supplies?”

“Well, yes. We often shopped together, for a lot of things. She liked to shop, to spend time with me and the kids. We shopped together at least once a week.”

“Thank you for your help.”

“But . . . Isn’t there something else?” Carleen asked when Eve got to her feet. “Isn’t there something more we can do?”

“There may be. We’ll stay in touch, Mrs. Steeple. You can reach either Detective Peabody or myself through Central, any time. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“I’ll show you out. Carleen, you should check on the kids.”

He walked them to the door, waited until he was sure his wife was out of earshot. “Look, I’m sorry I shot off like that.”

“No problem.”

“I want to know. Was she mutilated—like that other woman? I don’t want Carleen to see her if . . .”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“How?”

“I’m not going to give you those details, not at this time. They’re confidential to the investigation.”

“I want to know when you find him. I want to know. I want—”

“I know what you want. But what you need to do is take care of your wife, of your family. You need to leave the rest of it to us.”

“You didn’t know her. You didn’t know Lily.”

“No. But I know her now.”

Chapter 11

It was after five A.M. when Eve walked into Homicide. The skeleton squad from the graveyard shift was handling the ’links, catching up on paperwork. Or sleep. She gestured a come-ahead to Peabody so her partner would follow her into her office.

“I’ve got to contact Whitney.”

“Better you than me.”

“While I do, you tag Celina. Inform her we’re sending a couple of plainclothes to bring her in for a statement. I want her here at eight hundred hours. Then find me two cops to take the detail. When you get that set, you should catch a couple hours in the crib.”

“Don’t have to tell me that twice. Gonna join me?”

“No, I’ll stretch out in my office.”

“Where?”

“Just get this set up and close the door behind you.”

Alone, Eve stared at the ’link, and recited a little mantra in her head.

Let the commander answer and not his wife, let the commander answer and not his wife. In the name of all that’s holy, let the commander answer and not his wife.

Then, sucking it up, she sat down and made the call.

She nearly let out a cheer when Whitney’s tired face popped on screen.

“I’m sorry to wake you, sir. There’s been a homicide in Memorial Park. Single victim, Caucasian female, age twenty-eight. Sexual homicide with mutilation. The same MO as Maplewood.”

“Scene secure?”

“It is, sir. I’ve closed the park and have men at every entrance.”

“Closed it?”

“Yes, sir. It’s necessary, for the next ten to twenty-four hours.”

He let out a long, long sigh. “Which means it’s necessary for me to wake up the mayor. I want a full report on my desk by eight hundred hours. I’ll see you in my office at nine hundred.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eve looked at the blank screen. No, she didn’t see how she was going to manage sleep.

She input her notes and the record from on scene. Preparing for the long day ahead, she programmed a full pot of coffee, then sat to refine her report.

She read it over, searching for any missed details.