“Thanks, Marsh.”
“Hey,” he said, stepping over to give her a kiss. “Tag me,” he added, and strolled out.
“The brew’s decent,” Missy began. “The wine’s foul.”
“We’re fine,” Eve told her.
“It’s Marshall’s place.”
“That’s Poster,” Eve said. “He plays the Tad character on your show.”
“Yeah. Chief dick, who’s actually a complete sweetheart. City Girl was his first break, and as you can see…” She gestured. “While he talked himself into this place, a good, secure building with some impressive history, he still gets his furniture in flea markets or off the street.”
She glanced toward the door. “He agreed to let us have this meeting here and leave, without asking why, because that’s the kind of man he is.”
She let out a breath. “I live here about half the time, and we’re keeping our relationship private. Even the rest of the cast doesn’t know yet.”
“Did Mars?”
“I can’t say, probably not or she’d have brought it up. Could be she was holding that back, but it wouldn’t have mattered. It’s not going to shake the earth when the fans find out Marsh and I are a thing.”
“She didn’t know,” Eve said. “Breaking it would’ve given her a spike. She wouldn’t have resisted it.”
“You know, you’re right. I guess keeping tabs on me didn’t matter once she got what she wanted. Anyway, I trust Marshall, completely, and maybe one
day I’ll tell him what I’m going to tell you. But right now, it’s personal family business. This is my attorney, Anson Gregory.”
Gregory rose, extended a hand to Eve, then to Roarke. “Miss Durante has apprised me of the circumstances. I’m here to protect her interests, of course.”
“I’m sorry.” Missy Lee rose. “Let me take your coats, and please sit down. There’s no coffee because neither of us drinks it, but I could probably scrounge something up.”
“We’re fine,” Eve repeated, and tossed her coat where Marshall’s had been. “I’m going to record this, and read you your rights.”
Gregory nodded, and both he and Missy Lee sat again.
“Do you understand your rights and obligations?” Eve asked when she finished.
“Yeah, I do. I’m going to say first that if anything I tell you here gets out, goes public, I’m going to sue you and the NYPSD, sue hard. It may not get me anywhere, but I’ll make sure it’s really unpleasant.”
Gregory lifted the briefcase at his feet, set it on his lap, and opened it. “I prepared confidentiality agreements,” he began.
Eve simply said, “No. Neither I nor the NYPSD’s civilian consultant will sign any such documents. We can, however, compel your client to come into Central for formal questioning. Or we can do this here, with our word that nothing said will be made public until and unless it becomes necessary due to investigative needs or in the event of criminal charges.”
“It was worth a try.” Missy Lee put a hand on Gregory’s arm before he could respond. “I’m prepared to do this, just like I’m prepared to sue their asses off if it becomes necessary. So.”
“You can start by telling me where you were last night between six and seven.”
“We shot until six, maybe six-fifteen. In studio. Then I ducked out and came here. You can review building security and see when I came in. I’ll be wearing a short wig, a black coat. We’re keeping our relationship private,” she said again. “The doormen know, and the lobby staff, but they also know gossip isn’t worth their jobs. Plus, they’ve been really frosty about it. Marshall got here about fifteen minutes after me. We don’t come and go together. He picked up a pizza on the way, we had dinner, ran some lines, and … stuff,” she said with a quick smile. “I stayed till about ten-thirty. I don’t usually stay the night when we’re on call. I went home.”
“How’d you get here from work?”
“The production gives me a driver. I had him drop me off at a restaurant a couple blocks from here, told him I was meeting my family for dinner. Then I ducked into a doorway, pulled on the wig, walked the rest of the way.”
She stopped, let out that gurgle of a laugh. “And, you know, hearing myself I’m starting to feel really stupid about all the bullshit. I’m going to talk to Marshall about just coming out with it.”
“Canary Islands?”
Missy Lee’s eyes widened. “And, wow, maybe you’re as good as hyped. Yeah, a family vacay. That’s where she nailed me. At first, I just thought: Well, crap, the gossip queen’s going to hound me when all I want’s a little sun and surf. But the smart move is, cooperate a little, give them some feed, and they’ll leave you be. Except she wasn’t looking for a little of anything.”