In Death 22 - Memory in Death

those private battles private.”
    “But they show, especially to a trained observer. And these two look smooth as glass. She’s like the poster girl for wifely behavior. It just hits me wrong.” She shifted in her seat. “I know I’m not much
    in the wifely department, but it makes me want to take another sniff at her. Going out for coffee and bagels, the morning after your mother-in-law’s been bludgeoned to death? Come on.”
    “It’s not unusual to do something basic, something everyday, to compensate for trauma.”
    “Well, how about tapping room service, then? Sure, it was an economy hotel, but it ran to room service.”
    “Devil’s advocate,” Mira said, holding up a hand. “She’s not used to that sort of thing, more used to
    doing the food shopping and preparation. I agree, it would’ve been simpler and more sensible under the circumstances, but it’s difficult to see that as suspicious behavior.”
    “It’s more the ball of it. Of her. She does everything just so. Like she’s got some checklist. Okay, turn
    on the tears. Now be brave, bite your lip, turn the guileless, supportive look on your husband. But don’t forget your makeup and hair. There’s a certain vanity in there that doesn’t click with the rest of her.”
    “You don’t like her.”
    “You know, I don’t.” Stopped at a light, Eve tapped her fingers on the wheel. Naked fingers, she realized. She’d forgotten her gloves back at Central. “And there’s no reason not to like her, on the surface. So it’s my gut telling me she’s off. Something about her is off, that’s all. And maybe I’m just full of shit, maybe I’m reaching. So your impression’s going to weigh.”
    “But no pressure,” Mira murmured.
    “I’m telling her I’m bringing you along to counsel,” Eve continued as she parked. “Just to offer a hand since she’s had a couple of tough blows back-to-back.”
    “And she’ll believe that?”
    Eve smiled thinly. “She’s not the only one who can put on a show. You want to be careful getting out. That sidewalk’s going to be slick.”
    “It’s nice,” Mira said easily, “to have someone worry.”
    Vaguely embarrassed, Eve waited until the street was clear to climb out. Inside, she nodded toward security, then logged Mira in. “Any movement upstairs?” she asked the woman on duty.
    “None reported.”
    “She order any food?” At the security woman’s raised brow, Eve spoke casually. “Just want to make
    sure she’s taking care of herself. Also, if my men have been hitting room service, I need to keep tabs
    for the budget.”
    “I can check on that for you.”
    “Thanks.” She moved to the elevator, got on with Mira. “Just want to see how well she’s taking care of herself,” she said to answer Mira’s unspoken question. “Be interesting to see what she’s been eating.”
    She acknowledged her man on the door. “I want transportation for the witness to and from the hospital, but I want a delay. I don’t want her leaving for thirty minutes after I do. Got that?” Yes, sir.
    Eve knocked, waited. Zana opened the door with a quick, tremulous smile. “I’m so glad you’re here.
    I just talked with Bobby’s nurse, and she said he’s awake, so… Oh.” She stopped when she spotted Mira. “I’m sorry. Hello.”
    “Zana, this is Dr. Mira. She’s a friend of mine.”
    “Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you. Please come in. I can, uh, get some coffee?”
    “That’s all right, I’ll take care of that in a minute. Dr. Mira’s a counselor. I thought, under the circumstances, you might want to talk to someone. Maybe Bobby, too. Mira’s the best,” Eve added
    with a smile, laying a hand on Mira’s shoulder to make it seem more friendly than official. “She’s helped me a lot with … issues.”
    “I don’t know what to say. Thanks so much for thinking of me, of us.”
    “You’ve been through some hard knocks. Survivors of violence don’t always understand the full extent
    of the stress they’re under. Talking to me, well, even though Bobby and I go back, you’re still talking
    to a cop. But if you think it’s out of line, then”
    “No, God. It’s so thoughtful of you. I’ve just been wandering around here, most of the night. No one
    to talk to. I’ve never talked to a counselor before. I don’t know where to start.”
    “Why don’t we sit down?” Mira suggested. “Your husband’s condition has improved?”
    “Yes. They said he’ll need to stay in