In Death 26 - Strangers in Death

night visitor left him hanging, and still alive. That doesn’t sound like sex games gone wrong.”
    “No,” Peabody agreed. “Sounds like murder.”
    Eve pulled out her communicator when it signaled. “Dallas.”
    “Sir, Mrs. Anders just got here. Should I bring her in?”
    “Bring her straight back to the kitchen.” Eve switched off. “Okay, let’s see what the widow has to say.”
    Turning back to the screens, she watched Ava Anders sweep through the front door, her sable coat swinging back from a slim body dressed in deep blue. Her hair, a delicate blond, was pulled severely back from a face of high planes. Fat pearl drops swung at her ears, shaded glasses masked her eyes as she crossed the wide, marble foyer, through ornate archways, in skinny-heeled boots with the uniform at her side.
    Eve stepped back into the kitchen, took her seat at the sunny breakfast nook seconds before Ava strode in. “You’re in charge?” She pointed a finger at Eve. “You’re the one in charge? I demand to know what’s going on. Who the hell are you?”
    “Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. Homicide.”
    “Homicide? What do you mean ‘Homicide’?” She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing eyes as blue and deep as her suit, tossed them onto the counter. “Greta said there’d been an accident. Tommy was in an accident. Where’s my husband? Where’s Greta?”
    Eve got to her feet. “Mrs. Anders, I’m sorry to tell you your husband was killed this morning.”
    Ava stood where she was, her eyebrows drawing together, her breath coming in short little bursts. “Killed. Greta said…but I thought.” She braced a hand on the counter, then slowly walked over to sit. “How? Did he…did he fall? Did he get sick, or…”
    Always best to stab quick and clean, Eve thought. “He was strangled in his bed.”
    Ava lifted a hand, pressed it to her mouth. Lifted the other to cross it over the first. Those deep blue eyes filled, and the tears spilled as she shook her head.
    “I’m sorry, but I need to ask you some questions.”
    “Where’s Tommy?”
    “We’re taking care of him now, Mrs. Anders.” Peabody stepped over, offered a glass of water.
    She took the water, and when one hand shook, gripped the glass with both. “Someone broke in? I don’t see how that can be. We’re secure, we’re very secure here. Fifteen years. We’ve been here for fifteen years. We’ve never had a break-in.”
    “There weren’t any signs of a break-in.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “Whoever killed your husband either knew the security code, or was given access to the house.”
    “That can’t be.” Ava waved a hand in quick dismissal. “No one other than Tommy and myself and Greta has the code. Surely you’re not suggesting Greta—”
    “I’m not, no.” Though she’d be doing a thorough check on the house manager. “There wasn’t a break-in, Mrs. Anders. Thus far there’s no sign anything in the house was taken, or disturbed.”
    Ava laid a hand between her breasts where a rope of luminous pearls rested. “You’re saying Tommy let someone in, and they killed him. But that doesn’t make sense.”
    “Mrs. Anders, was your husband involved with someone, sexually or romantically?”
    She turned away immediately, first her face, then her body. “I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m not going to talk about this now. My husband is dead.”
    “If you know anyone who could gain access to the house, to his bedroom—while you were out of the country—it could tell us who killed your husband, and why.”
    “I don’t know. I don’t. And I can’t think about something like that.” The anger slapped out at Eve. “I want you to leave me alone. I want you out of my house.”
    “That’s not going to happen. Until we clear it, this house is part of a homicide investigation. Your husband’s bedroom is a crime scene. I suggest you make arrangements to stay elsewhere for the time being, and to stay available. If you don’t want to finish this now, we’ll finish it later.”
    “I want to see my husband. I want to see Tommy.”
    “We’ll arrange that as soon as possible. Do you want us to contact anyone for you?”
    “No.” Ava looked out the sunny window. “I don’t want anyone. I don’t want anyone now.”
     
    O utside, Eve climbed behind the wheel while Peabody sat shotgun. “Rough,” Peabody commented. “You’re soaking up tropical drinks and rays one minute, and the next, your husband’s