“Who pisses you off more than family?” She stepped out. “It’s clear for Crime Scene,” she told the uniform. “And the wagon’s on the way. What’s the wit’s name?”
“Sylvia Guntersen. Her husband’s Walter. He?
??s in there, too. He stayed home from work.”
“All right.” Eve knocked on 824. The female officer answered, a young blonde with her hair pulled back tightly at the nape of her neck.
“Hey, Cardininni.”
The blonde smiled, her frosty blue eyes warmed. “Hey, Peabody. Some morning, huh?”
“You could say. Officer Cardininni and I walked the beat together a few times.”
“Before you went Murder on us. Lieutenant. It’s good meeting you. More or less.” She glanced over her shoulder. “The woman’s taking it hard. The husband’s holding on, but not by much. They were tight with the vics. Lived across the hall from each other for about a dozen years. They hung a lot, took some vacations together. Close buds.”
“Got it.”
The apartment layout mirrored 825. The decor was less fussy, but the tidiness factor meshed. The Guntersens sat at the square-topped black kitchen table, cups in front of them. Eve judged them to be about the same age as the victims.
The woman wore her hair short, stylishly spiked, while the man went long and ponytailed. Both sets of eyes were red-rimmed, swollen. The woman took one look at Eve and began sobbing.
Eve only had to glance at Peabody to get her partner moving forward.
“Mrs. Guntersen, we’re so sorry for your loss. This is Lieutenant Dallas, and I’m Detective Peabody. We’re going to do our best for your friends.”
“They were my friends, our best friends.” She choked it out as she reached for her husband’s hand. “How could this happen to them?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out.” Eve took a seat at the table. “We need your help.”
“I just worried when she didn’t answer, so I went in. I found them. I found Barb and Carl.”
“I know this is hard,” Peabody began. “But we have to ask you some questions.” She measured the woman, decided she’d do better with a task. “Do you think we could have some coffee, ma’am?”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Pulling herself together, Sylvia stood up.
“When was the last time you spoke to or saw Barbara or Carl?” Eve asked.
“I talked to Barb Friday morning. Just a quick chat before Walt and I left. We went to see our daughter and her fiancé in Philadelphia for the weekend. They just got engaged.”
“Carl and I met up and had a beer after work Thursday,” Walter put in. “That’s the last I saw him.”
“When did you get back from Philadelphia?”
“Sunday night. I called Barb, but I didn’t think anything of it when she didn’t answer. I just figured she and Carl went out. They like to go to the vids.” Her chin wobbled, but she managed to set two cups of coffee on the table. “Most Friday nights we go to a vid together, but we were going to see Alice and Ben, so …”
“Who was staying with them?”
“Oh, Jerry. Their son. God, I never thought! I don’t know where he could be, what might’ve happened to him.” Her eyes, full of fresh horror, darted toward the door. “Is he … is he in there?”
“No, he’s not.”
“Thank God for that.”
“When did he move back home?”
“A while ago. About three weeks ago—no, nearly four—after he and his girlfriend broke up.”
“Girlfriend’s name?” Eve asked. “And the names of anyone you think he might be staying with. Friends?”