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“She balked at hypnosis.”

“So do you,” Mira pointed out. “It’s often the first reaction to the suggestion.”

“Me going under isn’t going to help find a killer. If she’d agreed to it, I’d’ve lost a million-dollar bet with myself. She had popcorn last night.”

“Comfort food.”

“And a bottle of wine’s in there, nearly empty.”

“I’d be surprised if she hadn’t had a few drinks.”

“You’re right,” Eve said irritably. “You’re not being helpful. She had herself a big, fat breakfast, and I’m betting she hit room service for a nice meal last night.”

“Not everyone goes off food with stress. People often use food as comfort, often overeating, in fact, to compensate. It can swing either way, Eve. We both know what you’ve got is instinct, and no evidence. Not even circumstantial at this point.”

“Shit. See if I give you a ride home next time.”

Eve got off the elevator, headed straight for security. “Have you got those room service orders?”

“I do. Nothing from your men. Our guest ordered roast chicken with new potatoes and carrots. She also had a starter of crab salad, and ended with key lime pie. A bottle of merlot went with that, as well as a bottle of spring water.”

“Good appetite,” Eve commented.

“Yeah. Sounds like she’s working to keep her strength up.”

Eve heard the cynicism, appreciated it. “I’m going to want a record of any calls she made on the room ’link.”

“I thought you would. Three outgoing. One to the hospital last evening, two to the hospital this morning. No incoming.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Eve strode out. “God damn if somebody lolls around drinking wine and eating pie when her husband’s racked up in the hospital. Would you?”

“No. And neither would you. But eating pie isn’t a crime, and I can’t tell you it’s out of the normal scope of reactions.”

“How come she didn’t contact Bobby’s pal and partner to tell him Bobby was hurt?”

“She might very well have done so, on her personal ’link.”

“Yeah, we’ll check that. I’m betting she didn’t. Didn’t get in touch because she didn’t want him heading out here, or keeping her tied up talking out the details, buzzing her back for updates. She wanted a little alone time with her fucking pie.”

Mira laughed out loud before she could cough it away, and earned a scowl. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny, it was just such an image. You want a profile, I’ll give you one.”

She got back in the car, strapped in. “The subject is a young, inexperienced woman, who appears used to—and amenable to—being told what she should do. She looks to her husband to make decisions, while she deals with the more domestic areas. This is her comfort zone. She enjoys attention while having a tendency to be skittish and shy. She has an orderly, tidy, and, I would say, submissive nature.”

“Or she’s slipped that persona on like a skin-suit.”

“Yes, or, if you’re right, Eve, this is a very clever, very calculating woman. One who would be willing to subvert her own nature for a considerable length of time in order to reach her goal. She’s been married to this man for several months, which brings them into a very intimate relationship every day. She knew and worked for him before that, was courted by him. Maintaining a pose contrary to her nature would be a very impressive feat.”

“I’m prepared to be impressed. I’m not pushing aside other possibilities, other suspects,” she added. “I’m just adding her in.”

And keeping her at the top of my list, Eve thought.

18

BOBBY WAS SITTING UP IN BED WHEN EVE stepped into his room. His eyes were closed, and the entertainment unit was set, she assumed, for a book on disc. In any case, there were voices spilling out of it in what seemed to be an intense and passionate argument.

If he was sleeping, he didn’t need to hear it. If he wasn’t, she needed his attention. So she stepped closer to the unit. “Pause program,” she ordered.

In the sudden silence Bobby stirred, opened his eyes.

“Zana? Oh, Eve. I must’ve nodded off. Sort of listening to a book. Crappy book,” he added with an attempt at a smile. “The nurse told me Zana was coming in soon.”

“I just left her a