yet?”
“I doubt it. I think they were caught flat-footed. There were no media trucks at the scene when we left,” Joe said.
“Too bad. I’d like to know more.”
“Me, too,” Joe said thoughtfully. “There are a couple things I’m curious about.”
Eve’s gaze narrowed on his face. “Such as?”
“How did Drogan get in? I examined that alarm system, and it was state of the art. I’m not bad, and there was no way I could bypass it. He’s either a positive Houdini with locks and alarms or there’s something … funny.”
“What do you mean? How else could he get in the house?”
Joe shrugged. “Maybe bribery to get the code from the alarm company? It’s a possibility, but it would require either time or extensive funds to do it. I’m thinking it over…”
“Pierce has money, and he’d hired Drogan before.”
“Yeah, like I said, I’m thinking about it.”
“Anything else bothering you?”
“I overheard talk from two of the forensics guys about a note.”
“What?” She frowned. “A suicide note? With all those stab wounds. That doesn’t make sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. That’s why I want to see if the media was able to get a statement from the police about the note.”
“Don’t stay up all night waiting for the media to catch up. It’s almost four, and you didn’t get much sleep last night.”
He nodded. “I’ll only check one time before I turn in. You go on.”
She hesitated, her gaze on his face. His tea-colored eyes were glittering, and there was the tension she knew well. He was wired. Even if he came to bed right now, he’d lie there, his brain moving at hyperspeed, going over possibilities. “Okay.” She slid the glass doors open. “Let me know if you hear anything interesting.”
“I will.” He dropped down in the chair Eve had just vacated. “There should be news on the hour, and that’s in twenty minutes.”
“And five minutes later, I expect to see you,” Eve said sternly. “Or I’ll come down and get you.”
He laughed but didn’t answer her.
Eve stopped by Beth’s room, knocked, and carefully opened the door. Beth was in bed but the light was still on. “Are you okay?”
Beth nodded, then smiled shakily. “You don’t have to be so protective. I told you I was working my way through this.”
“Sometimes it helps to talk it out. I’m here if you need me.”
“I don’t need you.” Then, as Eve started to close the door, “Thank you. I’m … grateful.”
“No gratitude necessary.” She smiled. “After all, we’re family.”
Beth’s smile became steadier. “That’s right, I keep forgetting. That means you’re stuck with me.” She reached over and turned out the light on the nightstand. “Now get out of here and let me see if I can get to sleep in this bed. If I can’t, you may find me downstairs sleeping on that couch in the living room.”
“It looked pretty comfortable.” She paused. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about Gelber’s disc Billy is trying to make sense of?”
“Yes.” Eve couldn’t see her expression in the darkness, but her voice was only a wisp of sound. “But I’m more scared than curious. If what you say is true about Gelber’s manipulating my memories and giving me posthypnotic suggestions, maybe that’s natural. Perhaps I was supposed to be too afraid to delve into what Gelber did. Do you suppose that’s possible?”
Eve felt a surge of anger. “Yes, that’s entirely possible.” She turned. “So we’ll just break through that wall he built around you, ignore what he did, and get what we need. There’s nothing to be scared about.”
“What if I did something … bad.”
“Bullshit. You were a kid. What could you have done?” She started to pull the door shut. “Try to sleep.” She paused a moment outside the door before she moved next door to her room. She had thought that Pierce was the principal villain of the piece, but the more she thought about Gelber, the more she was beginning to give him equal billing. Pierce had been her jailer, but Gelber had robbed her in a hideous way.
Murder was a terrible crime, but so was the crime that Gelber had committed against Beth. There was no way on earth Eve could regret Gelber’s death.
* * *
EVE WAS STILL AWAKE when Joe came to bed over an hour later. “So much for catching one newscast.” She yawned and cuddled closer to him. “Well? Anything about Drogan?”
“No.” His hand absently stroked her hair. “Nothing about Drogan. He’s not a suspect.”
“What?” she asked, startled.
“You heard me. A note