Alibis, she mused. Even seemingly solid ones—like Day’s—often cracked. But she didn’t believe his would. If he’d wanted to cover his ass, he’d have done it with something a lot less humiliating than being oiled up by a porn princess.
Plus, she didn’t see him as a killer—not a cold-blooded, stone-spined one. He definitely rated lying dog, but she also saw him as a weak sister.
Fabio Bellami. Lower on her list than Day. His statement, reaction, demeanor had rung true. Plus, the timing simply didn’t work.
Two more known marks—if Trina’s information was accurate, and it likely was.
Annie Knight, successful screen personality. Wylee Stamford, superior athlete and baseball star.
What secrets had Mars dug up on them, and hoarded away?
She sat, thinking to start a run on both, to get a sense of them beyond ratings and baseball stats. Then both her desk unit and her ’link signaled.
Kyung, on both, she noted.
Lieutenant, you’re needed in the media center. K
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
But she got up, headed out.
Both Whitney and Kyung waited for her. Kyung gave her a long look, eyebrows arched. And smiled.
“Don’t start on me.”
“Only to say you look … quite prepared, Lieutenant. And to add your one-on-one with Nadine hit the right tone. I’ve already prepped them, and the commander will give an opening statement. You can go straight to questions. Do you have any of your own?”
“No. Let’s just get it done.”
She scanned the rows of reporters, the cameras, while Whitney stepped to the podium to give the official statement.
“The primary investigator, Lieutenant Dallas, will take questions.”
He stepped back, she stepped up, and the barrage began.
She ignored the shouts, said nothing at all, wondering why they never learned that she didn’t play this game.
When a hand shot up several rows back, she pointed.
“It’s been confirmed you were in Du Vin, a bar owned by your husband, when Larinda Mars was killed. Did you speak with her, interact with her?”
“I, along with two doctors on scene, attempted to save her life. Unsuccessfully. You could call that interaction.”
“I’m sorry, I meant before she was attacked.”
“No.”
“But you knew her. Personally.”
“I met her briefly three years ago in the course of anoth
er investigation.” And since they’d ask. “At that time, she asked for and was given an invitation to a party at Roarke’s home. Since that time I haven’t seen or spoken to her until the events that transpired at Du Vin.”
Another hand shot up—maybe they could learn.
“Isn’t the fact you were a witness to this crime a conflict of interest to your function as the primary investigator?”
“I didn’t witness the crime, but the result of it.” A fine line, Eve thought, but a line. “If I had witnessed the crime, the perpetrator of same would now be in custody. However, the fact I was on scene, thereby able to secure the scene and any witnesses quickly, serves as an investigative advantage. I imagine the individual who killed Ms. Mars would have preferred otherwise.”