Vendetta in Death (In Death 49)
7
Body fueled, emotions settled, Eve rode up to the McEnroy penthouse with Roarke.
“And how do you want to handle the widow?” he asked her.
“I need to get a sense of her, and the tutor. From Peabody’s take the tutor’s going to be looking out for her as much as the kids. She’s been with the family for years. She comes off clean, but unless they’re both idiots, they had to know, at a minimum, Nigel McEnroy cheated routinely.”
“Some spouses turn a blind eye for any number of reasons.”
“Some do.” Eve turned her very sharp eye on Roarke. “Me, I’d’ve strapped him naked to the bed, tied his dick in a knot after I’d slathered it with honey for the fire ants I’d have in a jar, which I’d dump out right on his knotted dick.
“But that’s just me,” she added as the elevator opened.
“It is very much you.”
“Then I’d fly off to wherever it is they do the tango, and do that.”
“Argentina comes to mind.”
“Okay, there. Blind eyes are for wimps, idiots, or don’t-give-a-damn-anyways.”
“None of which you are.”
“You, either.”
“Agreed. I might take a page from your book on whomever my adored wife might cheat with. Then I’d buy up every coffee bean in the known universe, and burn them, as well as the plants they grow on.”
“That’s sick,” she said with feeling. “Sick and inhumane.”
“Ah well, that’s just me.” He took her hand, kissed her knuckles before pressing the buzzer on the McEnroy penthouse.
“Maybe it’s a weird thing to say after that, but I’m glad we’re us.”
The McEnroys are unavailable. Please respect the family’s privacy at this difficult time.
Eve held up her badge after the comp message. “Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, with civilian consultant Roarke. We have an appointment.”
One moment.
She waited for the scan, the verification. In short order the door opened. She recognized Frances Early from her ID shot. Mid-fifties, sturdy and attractive, mixed race. Tired hazel eyes assessed Eve before she stepped back.
“Lieutenant, sir, Ms. McEnroy is still up with the children. If you’d come in and wait until she’s able to come down.”
She caught the faint whiff of sweepers’ dust though the living area had been ruthlessly cleaned to remove any other trace of the police.
“I’ve let Ms. McEnroy know you’re here. The children are understandably distraught, and she’ll stay with them until they fall asleep. May I offer you anything while you wait?”
“We’re fine. To save time, to ensure we don’t keep either you or Ms. McEnroy any longer than necessary, we can start by talking to you.”
“To … I see. Of course. Please, sit down. I hope you understand I’m a bit distraught myself.”
“Understood. You were close, you and Mr. McEnroy?”
Francie sat, ran a hand over a chin-length cup of deep brown hair. Her nails, Eve noted, glinted with bright pink polish that seemed at odds with her conservative white shirt and black pants.
“I’ve been with the McEnroys for eight years. I tutor the girls, help tend to them, travel with them and Geena—Ms. McEnroy.”
“And you were close with Mr. McEnroy?” Eve repeated.