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“I can tell you how I feel, Marnie, on or off record.”

“You’re glad she’s dead.”

“You’re wrong.” What had clutched inside of her loosened. Because Marnie was wrong. Completely. “If it was up to me, she’d be in a cage, the same as you’ll be. She’d be in a cage for what she did to me, to you, to every kid she ever abused, to every woman she ever exploited. That’s justice.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No, that’s the job,” Eve corrected. “But you didn’t leave it up to me. You picked up that sap, and you cracked her skull open.”

“I didn’t plan it—”

“Maybe you didn’t,” Eve interrupted. “But you didn’t stop there. While she was lying there, bleeding, you stole from her. To get to that point, the point where you could exact your revenge, you used an innocent man. You left the bed where you’d made love with him, and killed his mother. Then you watched him grieve. You put him in the hospital, for kicks, for a little insurance. You did to him what she tried to do to us. You made him nothing. If I could, I’d send you over for that alone.”

She braced her hands on the table, leaned over so their faces were close. “I’m not like you, Marnie. You’re pathetic, taking and ruining lives for something that’s over.”

There were tears now, real ones, angry ones, glimmering in Marnie’s eyes. “It’s never over.”

“Well, you’ll have a long time to think about that. Twenty-five to life, I’d say. I’m nothing like you,” Eve repeated. “I’m the cop. And I’m going to give myself the pleasure of taking you down to booking personally.”

“You’re a hypocrite. You’re a liar and a hypocrite.”

“You can think that, but I’ll be sleeping in my own bed tonight. And I’m going to sleep really well.”

She took Marnie’s arm, pulled her to her feet. Pulling out her restraints, she snapped them on Marnie’s wrists. “Peabody, finish up here, will you?”

“I’ll be out in six months,” Marnie said when Eve escorted her into the hall.

“Keep dreaming.”

“And Bobby’ll pay for my lawyers. She deserved it. Say it! She deserved it. You hated her, just as much as I did.”

“You just piss me off,” Eve said wearily. “You robbed me of the chance to face her down, to do my job and see she paid for everything she’d done.”

“I want a lawyer. I want a psych eval.”

“You’ll get both.” Eve nudged her into an elevator, headed down to booking.

When she was back in her office, Mira came in, closed the door.

“You did a good job in Interview.”

“I got lucky. Her ego was on my side.”

“And you recognized that. She didn’t recognize you.”

“She wasn’t off by much. I’ve killed, and I know I’ve got the violence in me that makes me capable of it. Then. Now. But murder’s got a different face. I don’t see that in my mirror.

“Thing is,” she added, “she won’t see it in hers, either.”

“But you’ll see the truth. She won’t. I know it wasn’t easy for you, to do what you did. To do it from the start of this. How do you feel?”

“I’ve got to go to the hospital and tell that poor son of a bitch what she did, and why. I’ve got to go there and break his heart, leave that scar on him. I could feel a hell of a lot better.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“He’s going to need something, somebody, after. It’ll be up to him. But I think I have to do this, just the two of us. I think I owe him that. What do you think if I contacted the partner, they seem to be tight. Tell him to get his ass up here.”

“I think Bobby’s lucky to have you looking out for him.”

“Friends give you a cushion for the fall, even when you think you don’t need or want one. I appreciate you stopping by here, to see if I needed one. I’m okay.”

“Then I’ll let you finish.”

An hour later Eve was sitting beside Bobby’s hospital bed, helpless and miserable as tears tracked down his cheeks.

“There has to be a mistake. You’ve made a mistake.”

“There’s not. I haven’t. And I’m sorry, but I don’t know how else to tell you but straight out. She used you. She planned it. Parts of it maybe since she was thirteen. She claims she didn’t plan to kill your mother, and that may be true. It