“Slipped into it? Like on an ice patch?”
The flush returned as he jerked back. “Please, Officer—”
“Lieutenant. Lieutenant Dallas.”
“My feelings for Larinda, and hers for me…” Now his gaze sharpened on Eve’s face. “Dallas? The Icove Agenda’s Dallas? Marlo Durn’s Dallas?’
“The NYPSD’s Dallas.”
The smile flashed back, along with the dimples, so his whole face lit with fascinated interest. “I’m campaigning to have you and Marlo on Second Cup before the Oscars. I’d love to build an entire hour around the two of you.”
Eve simply stared. “Are you serious right now?”
“I’m sure Nadine would join us. It would be an amazing show.”
“Maybe Mars can report on it, on her show, from—you know—beyond the grave.”
“I—” He caught himself, bowed his head slightly. “I’m sorry. It’s so careless of me, just thoughtless. It’s that I live and breathe Second Cup, and am always focused on what I can bring my loyal viewers.”
“Right. How did your wife feel about you slipping?”
“Sashay and I…” He trailed off again, a habit, Eve decided. He sighed, long and heartfelt. “The demands of our individual careers took a toll on the marriage. So often we were dealing with our own pursuits and agendas. It’s very difficult when a marriage begins to fail, and I’m afraid we were at odds more than in tune, even as we struggled to make it work. But … it became clear what had begun so hopefully couldn’t last.
I admit I found solace during that difficult time with Larinda. You can say I was weak, and yet—” That sigh again. “I found some happiness.”
When someone shoveled bullshit by the ton, Eve thought, it was hard to keep your boots out of the muck. But she had plenty of experience, and just kept her tone conversational.
“You found some happiness banging a coworker while still married to someone else?”
The smile didn’t just dim. His whole face went classically prudish. “I don’t appreciate the crudeness. There was much more between Larinda and me than the physical.”
“How about Monicka Poole? Was there more there than the physical?”
The flush rose, this time with a hint of fear flickering in his eyes. “I’m afraid you have some bad information. Monicka misunderstood my affection and generosity.”
He stopped, and when Eve said nothing, letting silence pull him deeper, he cleared his throat and continued, “She’s young, you see? Impressionable, even a bit … needy,” he added. “Her misinterpretation is somewhat understandable, and I take partial responsibility for not seeing how she … But when she, I’m sorry to say, threw herself at me, made inappropriate demands and overtures, I had to let her go.”
“You’re denying a sexual relationship with her?”
“Absolutely.” His eyes widened, and Eve decided she’d rarely seen anyone lie so poorly. “Not only does Seventy-Five have very clear rules and guidelines regarding sexual overtures with subordinates, but I have my own ethics. Rumors run rampant in my world, Lieutenant, but I will put my reputation and behavior against rumors always.”
He might coat himself in outrage, Eve thought, but it didn’t fit him well. “Uh-huh. Where were you yesterday evening—from six to seven o’clock?”
He lifted his head, actually tossed his mane of hair. “You would dare to insinuate I killed Larinda?”
No, outrage didn’t fit him, but that touch of fear worked. “Peabody, would I dare?”
“Yes, sir, you totally would.”
“Even so, I didn’t hear any insinuation. I heard a question. Should I repeat it?”
“I believe I’ll contact my attorney!”
“You go ahead.” Eve rose. “He can meet you at Central. Peabody, see if Interview A’s available.”
Adding grief to the outrage, Day laid a hand over his heart. “Do you understand I’ve lost a friend?”
“Then cooperate with the investigation looking into who took her life.”