The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [522]
“Doctor?”
“Zeke’s my patient, and he’s under considerable distress.” Gently, Mira walked him to a chair. “If you feel it’s necessary to interview him, I want to be here.”
“Zeke, do you want your lawyer?” Eve asked him, and he only shook his head. Sympathy threatened to surface. She knew firsthand how miserable Testing could be. She set the recorder, sat across from him. “I just have a few questions. How many times did you meet Branson?”
“I only saw him twice. Once over the ’link and then last night.”
“Just once, over a ’link?” But he’d recognized Zeke instantly. Branson had reportedly been stumbling drunk, but he’d tagged Zeke at a glance. “The whore and the handyman,” Zeke had quoted him as saying. “So most of your contact was through Clarissa. How much time did you spend together?”
“Not a lot. When she was in Arizona, we talked. We had lunch a couple of times.” He looked up quickly. “It was harmless.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Just . . . things. All sorts of things.”
“Did she ask you about yourself?”
“I guess, yeah. She was so relaxed and happy. Not like she is here. She liked hearing about my work, and she was interested in Free-Agism. She said it sounded like such a gentle and kind religion.”
“Zeke, did she come onto you?”
“No!” His shoulders straightened. “It was nothing like that. She was married. I knew she was married. She was just lonely. There was something there.” He said it with a wonder that made Eve’s heart sink for him. “Right away, and we both knew it, but we wouldn’t have done anything. I didn’t know how he treated her, I just knew she was unhappy.”
“Last night was the first time you’d actually seen Branson in person. He never came down to the workroom, never called you up to discuss the projects?”
“No, he never came down.”
Eve sat back. She was willing to bet Zeke had yet to meet B. Donald Branson in the flesh. “That’s all I need for now. Zeke, you’re going to have to stay here, in Central.”
“In a cell?”
“No. But you have to stay here.”
“Can I see Clarissa?”
“We’ll talk about that later.” Eve rose. “The uniform will take you up to the recreation area. There’s a sleeping bin off the side. I think you should tranq up and use it.”
“I don’t use tranqs.”
“Me, either.” She softened enough to smile at him. “Use the bin anyway. Get some rest.”
“Zeke.” There was so much Peabody wanted to say, wanted to do, but she held it in and looked at him soberly. “You can trust Dallas.”
“I’ll be up in a minute.” Mira patted his arm. “We’ll use meditation.” She waited until the uniform came to take him out. “My testing is complete enough for me to give you an evaluation.”
“I don’t need it.” Eve cut her off. “It’s for the record, not for me. He’s not going to be charged.”
Mira relaxed fractionally. In the last two hours, Zeke had slipped past her professional veneer. “He’s suffering. The idea that he took a life, however accidentally—”
“It wasn’t an accident,” Eve corrected. “It was a setup. If I’m on target, B. Donald Branson’s very much alive, and most likely with his wife. I can’t get into the details, I don’t have time,” she continued. “You looked at Clarissa’s statement, you viewed the recording.”
“Yes. It’s a classic case of abuse and shattered self-esteem.”
“Classic,” Eve agreed with a nod. “Like textbook. Like line for line out of a case study. She didn’t miss a trick, did she?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“No friends, no family support. Delicate, helpless woman dominated by an older, stronger man. He drinks, he beats her. He rapes her. She sticks. ‘Where will I go, what will I do?” ’
Mira folded her hands. “I realize you would find her inability to change her situation a sign of weakness, but it isn’t at all atypical.”
“No, it’s dead typical. And I’m saying that’s just how she played it. Played Zeke, played me, and would have played you. I think you’d have