Naked In Death

There was still countryside to be had, if you possessed the money or the prestige. Elizabeth Barrister and Richard DeBlass possessed both, and their home was a striking two stories of rosy brick set on a sloping hill and flanked by trees.

Snow was pristine on the expansive lawn, ermine draped on the bare branches of what Eve thought might be cherry trees. The security gate was an artful symphony of curling iron. However decorative it might have been, Eve was certain it was as practical as a vault.

She leaned out the cab window, flashed her badge at the sca

"You are not listed in the appointment directory, Lieutenant Dallas."

"I'm the officer in charge of the DeBlass case. I have some questions for Ms. Barrister or Richard DeBlass."

There was a pause, during which time Eve began to shiver in the cold.

"Please step out of the cab, Lieutenant Dallas, and up to the sca

"Tough joint," the cabbie muttered, but Eve merely shrugged and complied.

"Identification verified. Dismiss your transport, Lieutenant Dallas. You will be met at the gate."

"Heard the daughter got whacked up in New York," the cabbie said as Eve paid the fare. "Guess they're not taking any chances. Want I should pull back a ways and wait for you?"

"No, thanks. But I'll ask for your number when I'm ready to go."

With a half salute, the cabbie backed up, swung away. Eve's nose was begi

"Please go inside, step into the cart," the computer invited. "You will be taken to the house. Ms. Barrister will see you."

"Terrific." Eve climbed into the cart and let it take her noiselessly to the front steps of the brick house. Even as she started up them, the door opened.

Either the servants were required to wear boring black suits, or the house was still in mourning. Eve was shown politely into a room off the entrance hall.

Where Roarke's home had simply whispered money, this one said old money. The carpets were thick, the walls papered in silk. The wide windows offered a stu

"Lieutenant Dallas." Elizabeth rose. There was nervousness in the deliberate movement, in the rigid stance and, Eve saw, in the shadowed eyes that held grief.

"Thank you for seeing me, Ms. Barrister."

"My husband's in a meeting. I can interrupt him if necessary."

"I don't think it will be."

"You've come about Sharon."

"Yes."

"Please sit down." Elizabeth gestured toward a chair upholstered in ivory. "Can I offer you anything?"

"No, thanks. I'll try not to keep you very long. I don't know how much of my report you've seen – "

"All of it," Elizabeth interrupted. "I believe. It seems quite thorough. As an attorney, I have every confidence that when you find the person who killed my daughter, you'll have built a strong case."

"That's the plan." Ru

"She was my only child," Elizabeth said simply. "My husband and I were – are – proponents of the population adjustment theory. Two parents," she said with a thin smile. "One offspring. Do you have any further information to give me?"

"Not at this time. Your daughter's profession, Ms. Barrister. Did this cause friction in the family?"

In another of her slow, deliberate gestures, Elizabeth smoothed down the ankle-skimming skirt of her suit. "It was not a profession I dreamed of my daughter embracing. Naturally, it was her choice."

"Your father-in-law would have been opposed. Certainly politically opposed."

"The senator's views on sexual legislation are well known. As a leader of the Conservative Party, he is, of course, working to change many of the current laws regarding what is popularly called the Morality Issue."

"Do you share his views?"

"No, I don't, though I fail to see how that applies."

Eve cocked her head. Oh, there was friction there, all right. Eve wondered if the streamlined attorney agreed with her outspoken father-in-law on anything. "Your daughter was killed – possibly by a client, possibly by a personal friend. If you and your daughter were at odds over her lifestyle, it would be unlikely she would have confided in you about professional or personal acquaintances."

"I see." Elizabeth folded her hands and forced herself to think like a lawyer. "You're assuming that, as her mother, as a woman who might have shared some of the same viewpoints, Sharon would talk to me, perhaps share with me some of the more intimate details of her life." Despite her efforts, Elizabeth 's eyes clouded. "I'm sorry, lieutenant, that's not the case. Sharon rarely shared anything with me. Certainly not about her business. She was… aloof, from both her father and me. Really, from her entire family."

"You wouldn't know if she had a particular lover – someone she was more personally involved with? One who might have been jealous?"

"No. I can tell you I don't believe she did. Sharon had… " Elizabeth took a steadying breath. "A disdain for men. An attraction to them, yes, but an underlying disdain. She knew she could attract them. From a very early age, she knew. And she found them foolish."

"Professional companions are rigidly screened. A dislike – or disdain, as you put it – is a usual reason for denial of licensing."

"She was also clever. There was nothing in her life she wanted she didn't find a way to have. Except happiness. She was not a happy woman," Elizabeth went on, and swallowed the lump that always seemed to hover in her throat. "I spoiled her, it's true. I have no one to blame but myself for it. I wanted more children." She pressed a hand to her mouth until she thought her lips had stopped trembling. "I was philosophically opposed to having more, and my husband was very clear in his position. But that didn't stop the emotion of wanting children to love. I loved Sharon, too much. The senator will tell you I smothered her, babied her, indulged her. And he would be right."

"I would say that mothering was your privilege, not his."

This brought a ghost of a smile to Elizabeth 's eyes. "So were the mistakes, and I made them. Richard, too, though he loved her no less than I. When Sharon moved to New York, we fought with her over it. Richard pleaded with her. I threatened her. And I pushed her away, lieutenant. She told me I didn't understand her – never had, never would – and that I saw only what I wanted to see, unless it was in court; but what went on in my own home was invisible."

"What did she mean?"

"That I was a better lawyer than a mother, I suppose. After she left, I was hurt, angry. I pulled back, quite certain she would come to me. She didn't, of course."

She stopped speaking for a moment, hoarding her regrets. "Richard went to see her once or twice, but that didn't work, and only upset him. We let it alone, let her alone. Until recently, when I felt we had to make a new attempt."

"Why recently?"

"The years pass," Elizabeth murmured. "I'd hoped she would be growing tired of the lifestyle, perhaps have begun to regret the rift with family. I went to see her myself about a year ago. But she only became angry, defensive, then insulting when I tried to persuade her to come home. Richard, though he'd resigned himself, offered to go up and talk to her. But she refused to see him. Even Catherine tried," she murmured and rubbed absently at a pain between her eyes. "She went to see Sharon only a few weeks ago."

"Congresswoman DeBlass went to New York to see Sharon?"