In Death 01 - Naked in Death

to numb when she saw the little electric cart slide through the gate. The curved iron opened.
    "Please go inside, step into the cart," the computer invited. "You will be taken to the house. Ms. Barrister will see you."
    "Terrific." Eve climbed into the cart and let it take her noiselessly to the front steps of the brick house. Even as she started up them, the door opened.
    Either the servants were required to wear boring black suits, or the house was still in mourning. Eve was shown politely into a room off the entrance hall.
    Where Roarke's home had simply whispered money, this one said old money. The carpets were thick, the walls papered in silk. The wide windows offered a stunning view of rolling hills and falling snow. And solitude, Eve thought. The architect must have understood that those who lived here preferred to consider themselves alone.
    "Lieutenant Dallas." Elizabeth rose. There was nervousness in the deliberate movement, in the rigid stance and, Eve saw, in the shadowed eyes that held grief.
    "Thank you for seeing me, Ms. Barrister."
    "My husband's in a meeting. I can interrupt him if necessary."
    "I don't think it will be."
    "You've come about Sharon."
    "Yes."
    "Please sit down." Elizabeth gestured toward a chair upholstered in ivory. "Can I offer you anything?"
    "No, thanks. I'll try not to keep you very long. I don't know how much of my report you've seen -- "
    "All of it," Elizabeth interrupted. "I believe. It seems quite thorough. As an attorney, I have every confidence that when you find the person who killed my daughter, you'll have built a strong case."
    "That's the plan." Running on nerves, Eve decided, watching the way Elizabeth's long, graceful fingers clenched, unclenched. "This is a difficult time for you."
    "She was my only child," Elizabeth said simply. "My husband and I were -- are -- proponents of the population adjustment theory. Two parents," she said with a thin smile. "One offspring. Do you have any further information to give me?"
    "Not at this time. Your daughter's profession, Ms. Barrister. Did this cause friction in the family?"
    In another of her slow, deliberate gestures, Elizabeth smoothed down the ankle-skimming skirt of her suit. "It was not a profession I dreamed of my daughter embracing. Naturally, it was her choice."
    "Your father-in-law would have been opposed. Certainly politically opposed."
    "The senator's views on sexual legislation are well known. As a leader of the Conservative Party, he is, of course, working to change many of the current laws regarding what is popularly called the Morality Issue."
    "Do you share his views?"
    "No, I don't, though I fail to see how that applies."
    Eve cocked her head. Oh, there was friction there, all right. Eve wondered if the streamlined attorney agreed with her outspoken father-in-law on anything. "Your daughter was killed -- possibly by a client, possibly by a personal friend. If you and your daughter were at odds over her lifestyle, it would be unlikely she would have confided in you about professional or personal acquaintances."
    "I see." Elizabeth folded her hands and forced herself to think like a lawyer. "You're assuming that, as her mother, as a woman who might have shared some of the same viewpoints, Sharon would talk to me, perhaps share with me some of the more intimate details of her life." Despite her efforts, Elizabeth's eyes clouded. "I'm sorry, lieutenant, that's not the case. Sharon rarely shared anything with me. Certainly not about her business. She was... aloof, from both her father and me. Really, from her entire family."
    "You wouldn't know if she had a particular lover -- someone she was more personally involved with? One who might have been jealous?"
    "No. I can tell you I don't believe she did. Sharon had..." Elizabeth took a steadying breath. "A disdain for men. An attraction to them, yes, but an underlying disdain. She knew she could attract them. From a very early age, she knew. And she found them foolish."
    "Professional companions are rigidly screened. A dislike -- or disdain, as you put it -- is a usual reason for denial of licensing."
    "She was also clever. There was nothing in her life she wanted she didn't find a way to have. Except happiness. She was not a happy woman," Elizabeth went on, and swallowed the lump that always seemed to hover in her throat. "I spoiled her, it's true. I have no one to blame but myself for it. I wanted more children." She pressed a hand to her mouth until she thought