In Death 27 - Salvation in Death

and enhancers.
    The cop on the door gave Eve a look that managed to be weary, cynical, relieved, and amused all at once. “Sir? Officer McKlinton. I’ve been standing with Mrs. Jenkins.”
    Please was the underlying message. Please set me free.
    “Take a break, Officer. I’ll speak with Mrs. Jenkins now.”
    “Yes, sir.” McKlinton moved to the door, and mumbled, “Good luck,” under her breath.
    “Mrs. Jenkins,” Eve began, and in response Jolene shrieked and threw her arm over her eyes. And not for the first time, Eve decided, as the arm was covered with smears of the facial enhancers like a kind of weird wound.
    “I’m Lieutenant Dallas,” Eve said over the shrieks and sobs. “I know this is a difficult time, and I’m very sorry for your loss, but—”
    “Where is my Jimmy Jay! Where is my husband ? Where are my babies? Where are our girls?”
    “I need you to stop.” Eve walked over, leaned down, took Jolene by the quaking shoulders. “I need you to stop this, or I’m walking out. If you want me to help you, help your family, then you’ll stop. Now.”
    “How can you help? My husband is dead . Only God can help now.” Her voice, thick with tears and the South, shrill with hysteria, sawed through the top of Eve’s head. “Oh why, why did God take him from me? I don’t have enough faith to understand. I don’t have the strength to go on!”
    “Fine. Sit here and wallow then.”
    She turned away, and got halfway across the room when Jolene called out, “Wait! Wait! Don’t leave me alone. My husband, my partner in life and in the light eternal, has been taken from me. Have pity.”
    “I’ve got plenty of pity, but I also have a job to do. Do you want me to find out how, why, and who took him from you?”
    Jolene covered her face with her hands, smearing enhancements like fingerpaint. “I want you to make it not happen.”
    “I can’t. Do you want to help me find out who did this?”
    “Only God can take a life, or give one.”
    “Tell that to all the people, just in this city, who are murdered by another human being every week. You believe what you want, Mrs. Jenkins, but it wasn’t God who put poison in that bottle of water.”
    “Poison. Poison.” Jolene slapped a hand to her heart, held the other up.
    “We need the medical examiner to confirm, but yes, I believe your husband was poisoned. Do you want me to find out who did that, or just pray about it?”
    “Don’t be sacrilegious, not at such a time.” Shuddering, shuddering, Jolene squeezed her eyes shut. “I want you to find out. If someone hurt my Jimmy, I want to know. Are you a Christian, miss?”
    “Lieutenant. I’m a cop, and that’s what matters here. Now tell me what happened, what you saw.”
    Between hiccups and quavers, Jolene relayed what was essentially Attkins’s statement of events. “I ran onstage. I thought: ‘Oh sweet Jesus, help my Jimmy,’ and I saw, when I looked down, I saw . . . His eyes—he didn’t see me, they were staring, but he didn’t see me, and there was blood on his throat. They said I fainted, but I don’t remember. I remember being sick or dizzy, and someone was trying to pick me up, and I guess I went a little crazy. They—it was one of the police and, Billy, I think, who brought me in here, and someone came and gave me something to calm me down. But it didn’t help. What would?”
    “Did your husband have any enemies?”
    “Any powerful man does. And a man like Jimmy Jay, one who speaks the word of God—not everyone wants to hear it. He has a bodyguard, he has Clyde.”
    “Any particular enemies?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
    “A man in his position accumulates considerable wealth.”
    “He built the church, and ministers to it. He gives back more, so much more than he ever gathered for himself. Yes,” she said, stiffly now, “we have a comfortable life.”
    “What happens to the church and its assets now?”
    “I . . . I—” She pressed a hand to her lips. “He took steps to be sure the church would continue after his passing. That if he met God first, I would be taken care of, and our children, our grandchildren. I don’t know all the particulars. I try not to think about it.”
    “Who set the water out for him tonight?”
    “One of the girls, I suppose.” Her ravaged eyes closed. Eve calculated the tranq had finally cut through the hysteria. “Or Billy. Maybe Clyde.”
    “Were you aware your husband routinely had vodka added to his