Born in Death (In Death 23)

He turned back, tried that smile again. “We’d get lattes in the break room.”

“Were you and Natalie ever involved romantically, sexually?”

“Oh, jeez, no. It wasn’t like that.” Spots of color rode on his cheeks now. “Sorry, it’s kind of like thinking about nailing my sister, you know? We just hit it off, day one. Friends, like we’d known each other already. And I don’t guess either of us were what the other was looking for that way. Nat, she was looking for Bick. They were, like, fated, you know? You could just see it. God.”

He propped his elbows on the desk, lowered his head to his hands. “It just makes me sick to think what happened to them.”

“Did she say anything to you about any concerns, any problems? Since you were close, would she have told you if something was bothering her?”

“I’d have thought she would, but she didn’t. And something was.”

Eve zeroed in. “How do you know?”

“Because I knew her. I could see it. But she wouldn’t talk about it. Said she was handling it, not to worry. I teased her that she was getting wedding jitters, going to do a runaway bride, and she played along. But you know, that wasn’t it.” He shook his head. “She was anxious about the details of the wedding, but not getting married, if you get what I mean.”

“So what was it?”

“I think it was an account. I think she was having trouble with one of her accounts.”

“Why?”

“Worked with her door locked a lot the last couple weeks. That wasn’t Nat.”

“Any idea which account?”

He shook his head again. “I didn’t push. All of us have at least a couple of accounts that we can’t discuss with other people in the department. I guess I thought she was losing a big client and trying to put out the fire. Happens.”

He looked away again, back to the blue circle inside the red triangle. “We were all supposed to go out this Saturday. The four of us. I don’t know how they could be dead.”

There was a knock, then the door opened. “Jake. Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Dad.” Jake pushed to his feet. “Ah, this is Lieutenant Dallas, with the police. My father, Randall Sloan.”

“Lieutenant.” Randall took her hand, held it firm. “You’re here about Natalie and Bick. We’re all in…I guess we’re in a daze.”

“You knew them.”

“Yes, very well. It’s such a shock, such a loss. I’ll come back later, Jake. I just wanted to see how you were.”

“It’s all right,” Eve told him. “I’m about done.” She flipped through her memory of the pecking order. “You’re a vice president of the firm.”

“That’s right.”

But not a partner, Eve thought, despite his expensive suit, his glossy looks. “As such, did you have much contact with either victim?”

“Not much, not at the office. Of course, Nat and Bick were friends of my son’s, so I knew them better outside the office than most of our account execs.” Randall moved to his son, laid a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “They were a lovely couple.”

“Did either of them express any concerns to you, inside or outside the office?”

“Why, no.” Randall’s brow furrowed. “They were both excellent at their work, and happy—as far as I know—in their personal lives.”

“I need to ask—it’s routine—about your whereabouts on the night of the murders.”

“I was entertaining clients. Sasha Zinka and Lola Warfield. We had cocktails and dinner at Enchantment downtown, then went on to Club One to hear some jazz.”

“What time did you pack it in for the night?”

“It must have been close to two when we left the club. We shared a cab uptown, I dropped them off. I can’t be sure, but I think it was nearly three when I got home.”