In Death 29 - Kindred in Death

Not when he was with her. Just the two of them.”
    She walked in, simply jerked her thumb at Peabody when Summerset appeared.
    “Captain MacMasters is waiting in your office. Commander Whitney is with him.”
    She said nothing, but started up.
    “Your gown is ready, and will be delivered today.”
    “My what?”
    “Your gown for Dr. Dimatto’s wedding. Leonardo would like to see it on you, in the event it requires any further fitting.”
    Eve opened her mouth, closed it, and made some growling sound. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Just put it wherever you put those things when it gets here.”
    Gowns, fittings, weddings. For God’s sake. Was she supposed to call Louise, report on the gown?
    For God’s sake, she thought again.
    It would have to wait. Right now she was about to talk to a grieving father about the investigation into his child’s murder.
    Everything else had to wait.

9
    WHEN SHE STEPPED TO THE DOORWAY EVE SAW MacMasters standing by the windows. Did he see the green, the color, the bloom, the blue? She doubted it.
    He looked diminished, she decided. Worn and lessened by the burden of grief. Could he be a cop now? Think like one, stand like one?
    She wasn’t sure.
    She glanced at the commander, standing beside him. The stance was support, friendship, shared loss.
    She would need them both to step back from that loss, to erect a distance of objectivity to give her what she needed.
    Or to step away completely.
    She walked in. “Commander. Captain.”
    They both turned. On MacMasters’s face she saw that quick spark that was hope. Survivors, she knew, needed answers.
    “Is there any progress, Lieutenant?”
    “We’re pursuing some lines,” she told MacMasters. She moved toward her desk, around the murder board she’d deliberately left up. He had to face it, and she’d remembered what Roarke had said when she’d allowed Morris to see the board on Coltraine’s investigation.
    That he would see she was the center of it. She was the focus.
    “I brought the captain up-to-date, from this morning’s briefing,” Whitney said, his gaze latched onto her face. “It saves you time.”
    “Yes, sir. We’ll go over some of that, but you should know we found two wits this morning who believe they saw Deena with the suspect. Both are willing to work with a police artist. I’ve arranged for Detective Yancy to meet with them.”
    “Two?” MacMasters’s voice jumped. “Two people saw him?”
    “Two independent witnesses believe they saw Deena with a young male. They both gave basic descriptions that match on coloring. Have a seat, Captain.”
    “I—”
    “Please.” He wasn’t a cop now, she decided. He was a father. She could only try to find the way to speak to both. “I’ll tell you what I know, and what we’re doing.”
    She ran through the interviews with the two women from the park. “The timing on Merrill’s sighting corresponds to what we believe was the first meet. The timing on Delroy’s indicates they continued to meet, and outside what we’ve established—through your statements, your wife’s, Deena’s friends—was her usual area. Do you know if she often traveled to the East Side?”
    “Not in general. She had her favorite shops and hangouts closer to home. And the locations I gave you near Columbia.”
    “We can speculate that they met outside those areas to keep their relationship secret. We’re working to pinpoint the day Delroy saw them, and I’m sending officers to the location she sighted them. They’ll show Deena’s photo to merchants, shop clerks, waiters.”
    She saw the struggle on MacMasters’s face, a battle between hope and despair.
    “We may find other witnesses to help us identify the suspect. If someone recognizes her,” Eve continued, “they may remember him. Merrill, who jogs regularly in that sector of the park, stated she hadn’t seen Deena for some time. You and your wife indicated Deena ran in the park regularly.”
    “Yes. She . . . several mornings a week. She . . .”
    “She may have moved to another sector, in order to meet with the suspect.”
    “Why didn’t I notice a change?” MacMasters murmured. “Carol did. But I never . . . If she’d told us. If she’d just . . .”
    “Captain, my belief is this man was very persuasive, and very deliberate.” Was that comfort? Eve wondered. “He’d studied her, he had a plan, and he played on her youth, her trust. He used the Columbia connection to lower her guard. I feel