“She wasn’t there. She had a vision.”
“Oh. That must’ve been horrible for her.”
“So you buy it. Just like . . .” Eve snapped her fingers.
“If Celina came to see you, told you she’d seen a murder, she saw one.” Thoughtfully, Louise sipped at her water. “She doesn’t hide her gift, but she keeps it all very professional and, well, you could say, surface.”
“Define ‘surface’,” Eve prompted.
“She enjoys what she does—what she has—and she’s geared it toward entertaining more than counseling, let’s say. She keeps it light. I’ve never known her to get involved with anything like this. Who was killed?”
“A woman was raped, strangled, and mutilated in Central Park last night.”
“I heard about that.” Louise sat behind a glossy and feminine desk. “There weren’t a lot of details. Your case?”
“Yeah. Celina had a lot of the details that weren’t released. You’re vouching for her?”
“I am. Yes, I’d believe her, no question. Can she help?”
“Yet to be determined. What do you know about her, on a personal front?”
Louise lifted the water bottle again, and took her time drinking. “I don’t like dishing about my friends, Dallas.”
“I’m a cop. I don’t dish.”
Louise blew out a breath. “Well, as I said, she’s from a wealthy, conservative family who doesn’t approve of her. It takes considerable strength of character to buck your family.” She toasted herself, drank. “Her father’s side is aristocratic Mexico, though he moved to Wisconsin for several years for some business or other. They live in Mexico now, and Celina bolted for New York, made it her place while we were still in college. As much, I’d say, because she wanted the city as because this particular city was several thousand miles from her family, yet on the same continent.”
She shrugged, considered. “I’d say she’s a straightforward, goal-oriented type. She studied parapsychology in college, and related subjects. She wanted to know everything she could about her gift. For a sensitive, she’s a logical, somewhat linear woman. She’s loyal. It takes loyalty to keep friends for a decade or so. Ethical. I’ve never known her to intrude, psychically, or to use her talent to exploit. Did she know the woman who was killed?”
“Not, she said, in this particular life.”
“Hmm. I remember having discussions with her about connections, past, present, to come. Not your style, I know, but a valid and accepted theory, even in some scientific circles.”
“What about personal relationships?”
“Other than friendships, you mean. She was involved with someone for a few years. Songwriter, musician. Lovely man. They broke it off a while ago. Around a year ago.” She shrugged. “Too bad. I liked him.”
“Name?”
“Lucas Grande. Reasonably successful. He’s had a number of songs published and produced, and works regularly as a session musician. He scores vids, too.”
“Why’d they split?”
“That feels like dish. How does this relate?”
“Everything relates until I know it doesn’t relate.”
“Basically, things cooled off between them. They just weren’t happy together anymore, so they went their separate ways.”
“It was mutual?”
“I’ve never heard Celina trash him any more than a woman does when she splits with a guy. I don’t see her all that often—not enough time—but from what I could see, she handled it well enough. They loved each other, then they didn’t. They moved on.”
“Did she ever mention Elisa Maplewood to you?”
“That’s the woman who was killed? No. I never heard the name before this morning on the news.”
“Luther or Deann Vanderlea?”