Imitation in Death (In Death 17)

“In spades. I hit him with not being home all night, and he tried to make me think I’d been dreaming or sleepwalking. When I showed him the copies I’d made of his personal receipts and date book, he had the nerve, the fucking nerve, to act hurt and insulted. If I didn’t trust him, we had a serious problem.”

She paused, lifted a hand to indicate she needed a moment. “I couldn’t believe what I was hearing coming out of his mouth. So smooth, so practiced. Well. Well.”

“I don’t have any alcohol in here,” Eve said into the silence. “How about a hit of coffee?”

“Thanks, but

just some water, if you don’t mind.”

While Peabody moved to take care of it, Pepper picked up her shades by the earpiece, twirled them. “No point in going into all the ugly details, but when he realized I wasn’t buying, when I explained to him that it was done, he was out—out of the house, the office, the expense account, and my life—the shit hit the fan. And his fist hit my face.”

“Where is he now?”

“I have no idea. Thanks,” she said when Peabody handed her some water. “I expect you to find him, Dallas, and arrest him. I’d have worse than a black eye if I hadn’t had a security droid on standby. I’d done that because I wanted the droid to escort him upstairs, wait while he packed up what belonged to him, and escort him out. Instead, when I called out, it came in while Leo was coming toward me, ready to hit me again. It hauled him up and heaved him out.”

She drank, slow sips, until the glass was empty.

“He said vicious things to me,” Pepper continued. “Crude, vicious, horrible things. It was my fault he was seduced—his term—seduced by other women because I was so controlling, even in bed. How it was past time he showed me who was in charge around here because he was through taking orders from . . . from some bossy cunt.” She shuddered. “He was screaming that sort of thing at me before the droid came in. I was terrified. I didn’t know I could be terrified, not really. I didn’t know he could be the way he was in those few awful minutes.”

“Get her some more water, Peabody,” Eve ordered when Pepper started to shake.

“I’d rather be mad than scared.” She dug into the bag again, found a lace-edged handkerchief, and mopped at her streaming eyes. “I’m all right when I’m just mad. I know about the woman who was attacked last night, and the report speculated it’s connected with two murders—the ones you asked me about. And I thought, Oh God, oh God, I thought, Leo could have done it. The Leo I saw today could have done it. I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re going to file a complaint, and we’re going to bring charges of assault. We’ll track him down and bring him in. He won’t touch you again.”

This time she only stared into the water Peabody gave her, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m afraid to be alone. I’m ashamed that he’s made me a coward, but—”

“You’re not a coward. You just had some guy who outweighs you by a good thirty sock his fist into your eye and threaten to do more. If you weren’t shaken up, you’d be stupid. You’re not stupid because you came in and you’re bringing charges.”

“What if he killed those women? I slept beside him, I made love with him. What if he did those horrible things, then came home to me?”

“Let’s take it one step at a time. Once we’ve done the paperwork, I can arrange for an officer to stay at home with you if you’d feel safer having a cop as well as your security droid.”

“I would. I very much would. But I’d need him, or her, to come to the theater. I have a performance at eight.” She smiled wanly. “The show must go on.”

By the time she’d sent Pepper and her police escort off to Broadway, the stress and fatigue had a headache swirling behind Eve’s eyes. She’d put out an APB on Fortney, and the dragnet was already spreading.

She met with Breen’s attorney, let the preliminary complaints roll off her. But when he demanded his client be allowed to return home and tend to his minor child, she didn’t argue. In fact, she surprised the attorney by postponing further questioning until nine the next morning.

And she assigned two men to stake out Breen and his house overnight.

She sat back down in her office, already past the end of shift, and thought about coffee, about sleep, about work.

When McNab jogged in, he looked so bright and energetic, it hurt to look at him.

“Can’t you ever wear anything that doesn’t glow?” she demanded.

“Summertime, Dallas. Guy’s gotta glow. Got some news should put a glow back in your cheeks. Fortney booked a first-class seat on a shuttle to New L.A. He’s en route.”

“Quick work, McNab.”

He shot out his index finger, blew on it. “Fastest EDD man in the east. Lieutenant, you look well and truly beat.”

“Nothing wrong with your vision, either. Take Peabody home. Make sure she gets a good night’s sleep, which is my delicate way of saying restrain yourself from rabbiting together half the night. She needs a clear and alert mind tomorrow.”

“You got it. You might try that good night’s sleep yourself.”

“Eventually,” she mumbled, then started the process of extraditing Fortney and arranging for local authorities to meet him when he stepped off the shuttle.