a vicious thing.”
“I’ve confirmed the rapes, Ms. Early. Multiple. He kept records.”
“Oh God, oh my God.” She rose, hands pressed to her face as she walked to the wide window, back again, glanced toward the stairs. “You’re saying to me I’ve worked for, lived with, spent my holidays with a man who…”
“You knew he cheated. I imagine his wife confided in you even if you didn’t see the signs yourself.”
“There’s a wide, wide difference. I don’t have to approve of adultery, but can say and mean it’s not my business. It’s between husband and wife, and for them to deal with. Or not. But rape isn’t … They could be lying.”
She whirled back. “Lying to try to extort money.”
“He kept records,” Eve repeated. “He had a routine, and he had a type. We also confiscated date rape drugs he kept in a locked cabinet in his office.”
She folded her hands again, and those knuckles stayed bone white. “You’re saying … oh, if you’re lying to me, I’ll have your badge. You’re saying Nigel drugged and raped women. It will destroy her, Geena. She’s already shattered, but this … Can you not tell her? She loved him, and she believed he’d stopped. Stopped cheating. She’d believed it before, but this time, she was so sure. She was so happy.”
“There’s no way to keep this from her, and due to the multiple women involved, there’s no way to keep it from coming out in the media.”
“Keep what from me?”
At the top of the stairs, Geena McEnroy stood with one hand gripping the polished rail, the other pressed to her heart. She wore a straight, simple black dress. Its mourning color accentuated her delicate beauty. Everything about her read fragile, from the quiet brown hair swept back in a knot, to the long neck, to the slender build. Her eyes, soft blue, were swollen from weeping; her lips, unpainted, trembled.
The only bright point came from her nails, glowing in hot red.
“The girls?” Francie asked.
“Sleeping. Finally sleeping.” Geena started down, hesitated, swayed.
Rising, Roarke moved to the stairs and up to take her arm. “Let me help you.”
“Nothing seems real. It feels as if I might take a step and fall off the world.”
“I’m so very sorry,” he said as he led her to a chair. “Shall I get you some water?”
“I— Francie?”
“Some tea.” Francie took a mini remote from her pocket. “You’ve barely eaten all day.” Her tone turned matter-of-fact.
A smart move, Eve decided, as Geena looked as if she needed to be reminded to breathe in and out.
When the droid came in, Francie ordered tea. “A pot, as I could use some myself. And perhaps our … guests would like a cup.”
“You said…” Geena looked around blankly, finally focused on Eve. “I can’t remember who you are.”
“Lieutenant Dallas. Ms. McEnroy—”
“Oh yes, of course. The girls nagged and nagged to see the vid, the one about the clones, so I screened it. I thought it too violent and frightening for them. They’re too young. I don’t want them exposed to—But now. Oh God, now.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. McEnroy, and I know this is a very difficult time, but we need to ask you some questions.”
“I don’t understand any of it. How can I have answers when I don’t understand? The girls ask and ask where their father went. Why can’t he come back? Why did he have to die? Was he sick? Did he fall down? And I can’t answer. What do I tell them?”
“That’s for you to say.”
“But I don’t know. You said someone … but I don’t understand why anyone would hurt him. Was it a robbery? Was it—”
“We don’t believe robbery was a motive.” Deal with it, Eve thought as the droid wheeled in a tea cart. Stringing it out only prolonged pain.
“Your husband was killed in a location unknown at this time, then his body was transported back to this building and left outside. We’ve traced his movements on the night of his death. He left the building at approximately nine-eighteen P.M., took a limo to a club called This Place, where he had reserved a VIP booth. A privacy booth.”
“A—a business meeting.” Geena’s voice wavered as she spoke, and her eyes pleaded for Eve to agree.
“No, not a business meeting. We’ve confirmed Mr. McEnroy frequented This Place and other venues for the purpose of acquiring women for sexual activities.”
“That’s not true.” Flushes of color, high and bright, rode her cheekbones. “I won’t have you slander my husband,