In Death 13 - Seduction in Death

Dallas," she said for CeeCee, and the record. "I'm primary investigator in the matter of the death of Bryna Bankhead. I'm interviewing you, CeeCee Plunkett, at this time, because you were a friend of the deceased. You had a conversation with her via 'link last night, a few minutes before nine o'clock, just before she left her apartment."
    "Yes. Yes. She called me. She was so nervous, so excited." Her voice went thick. "Oh, Bry."
    "Why was she nervous and excited?"
    "She had a date. Her first date with Dante."
    "What's his full name?"
    "I don't know." She dug in her jacket pocket for a tissue, then tore it to pieces rather than mopping her face. "They met online. They didn't know each other's last names, that's part of the deal. It's for safety."
    "How long had she been in contact with him?"
    "Maybe three weeks now."
    "How did they meet?"
    "A poetry chat room. There was this discussion of great romantic poetry through the centuries and... Oh God." She leaned forward, buried her face in her hands. "She was my best friend. How could this happen to her?"
    "Would she confide in you?"
    "We told each other everything. You know how it is with girlfriends."
    More or less, Eve thought. "This was, to your knowledge, her first date with Dante?"
    "Yes. That's why she was so excited. She bought a new dress, and shoes. And these great earrings..."
    "And would it be usual for her to bring a first date back to her apartment for sex?"
    "Absolutely not." CeeCee gave a watery laugh. "Bry's got too many old-fashioned hang-ups about sex and relationships and stages. A guy had to pass what she called the Thirty Day Test before she'd go to bed with him. I used to tell her nothing stays fresh for a month, but she..." CeeCee trailed off. "What are you saying?"
    "I'm only trying to get a picture. Did she do illegals?"
    Though tears were still glistening in them, CeeCee's eyes went hard. "I don't like your questions, Lieutenant."
    "They have to be asked. Look at me. Look at me," Eve repeated. "I don't want to hurt her, or you. I have to know who she was, to do right by her."
    "No, she didn't do illegals," CeeCee snapped. "She took good care of herself, inside and out. That's the way she was. She was smart and she was fun and she was decent. And she did not get crazy on illegals and fall off her goddamn balcony. She didn't jump either, so don't even think about trying to pass this off as suicide. If she went off that balcony, it's because somebody pushed her off. It's because..."
    As her own words sank in, CeeCee's anger flared. "Someone killed her. Someone killed Bry. That -- that Dante. He, he followed her home after their date. And he got into her apartment somehow, and he killed her. He killed her," she repeated and dug her fingers into Eve's wrist. "You find him."
    "I'll find him," Eve promised. "CeeCee, I don't know all the facts yet, but I will. Tell me what you can about this man she knew as Dante. Everything you remember Bryna told you."
    "I can't take it in. I'm sorry, I just can't." She rose, walked slowly to the pitcher of ice water on the dressing room table. When the pitcher shook and sloshed, Eve went over, poured the glass.
    "Thanks."
    "Take a minute. Sit down, drink your water, and take a minute."
    "I'm okay. I'll be okay." But she had to hold the glass with both hands to drink. "He was supposed to own his own business. He was rich. She said he didn't brag about it, but she could tell from the little things he said. Places he'd been, like Paris and Moscow, the Olympus Resort, Bimini, I don't know."
    "What kind of business?"
    "They didn't get into specifics about that. Just like he wasn't supposed to know she worked here. But he did."
    Eve's gaze sharpened. "How do you know that?"
    "Because he sent her pink roses here last week."
    Pink roses, Eve thought. Pink rose petals.
    "What else?"
    "He spoke Italian, and um, French and Spanish. Romance languages," she added, smearing tears and mascara with the backs of her hands. "Bry was all caught up in the romance of it. She said he had the most romantic soul. And I'd say, well great, but what about his face? She'd just laugh and say that appearances didn't matter when hearts spoke to each other. But it wouldn't hurt her feelings any if he looked as good as he sounded."
    Steadier, she turned the glass in her hands. "Lieutenant... Did he rape her?"
    "I don't know." Eve drew out a picture she'd printed off disc. "Do you recognize this man?"
    CeeCee studied Dante's face. "No," she said,