Visions In Death

I'd just like to verify that, that's all. Just like to nail that down." "You don't believe her?" "I don't not believe her. I just want to verify, so it's off my mind. So I don't find myself wondering. That's all." "And if someone could… gain access to her bedroom when she was elsewhere, check her "link, you wouldn't find yourself wondering." "Yes." She looked at him then. "And I can't believe I'm standing here asking you to commit a crime. I know if she was home in bed when she contacted me, she couldn't have been here when the murder took place not when she called minutes after Napier's death. I could request a check of her "link, send an e-man to her place with her permission, but-" "It seems rude." She rolled her eyes. "I don't give a rat's ass about seeming rude, but I do about making an ass of myself. I do about potentially alienating a valuable source." "Eight o'clock then." She was torn between relief and worry. "Listen, I'll contact you when she comes in. Just to make sure it's clear. If you get caught-" "Darling Eve." There was a deliberate wealth of patience in his tone. "I love you more than life itself, and have, I believe, demonstrated that regularly throughout our relationship.

So I can't understand why you persist in insulting me." The neither. Just in and out. Just the "link. Don't go poking around. If it checks out, don't contact me. If it doesn't, tag me on my personal." "Shouldn't we have code words?" She sent him a withering look as he gri

Bite me." Laughing, he jerked her forward and did just that, giving her a quick nip on the chin before brushing his lips over hers. "I'll find my own way home. Get a little sleep." Eve turned back toward the arch, back toward death, and didn't see how she could.

Notifying next of kin was always hideous, but it was worse, somehow worse, when it had to be done in the middle of the night. She depressed the buzzer on an apartment on the Lower West Side and prepared to take a slice out of someone's world.

There was a wait, long enough she was preparing to ring again when the intercom blinked on.

"Yes? What is it?" "Police." Eve held up her badge, stood with it in view of the peep. "We need to speak with Carleen Steeple." "It's four in the fricking morning. What's this about?" "Sir, we need to come inside." The intercom clicked off, followed by an irritated rattle of chains and locks. The man who opened the door wore nothing but a pair of loose cotton pants and an a

"What's this about? Some of us are trying to sleep, and I don't want you waking up the kids." "We're sorry to disturb you, Mr Steeple." The brother-in-law, Eve thought, according to the data. "I'm Lieutenant Dallas. This is Detective Peabody. We need to speak to your wife." "Andy?" A woman with short, curly, sleep-ruffled hair poked her face out of a doorway. "What's going on?" "Cops. Look, we reported the illegals deals we saw, and the junkies roaming around in the broad fricking daylight.

We did our civic duty, and don't appreciate getting hassled in the middle of the night." "We're not with Illegals, Mr Steeple. Carleen Steeple?" The woman eased out, tugging at the belt of a robe. "Yes." "Your sister is Lily Napier?" "Yes." There was a flicker over her face. That first dawning of fear. "Is something wrong?" "I'm sorry to inform you, your sister's dead." "No." She said it quietly, the single sound on the verge of a question.

"Oh Jesus. Jesus." Andy Steeple transformed from pissed-off man to concerned husband in a snap. He walked quickly to his wife, gathered her against him. "Oh, honey. What happened?" he asked Eve. "What happened to Lily?"

"No," Carleen said again. Just: No.

"Can we sit down, Mr Steeple?" He gestured toward a seating area with comfortably worn chairs, a sofa cheerfully covered in bright, overblown flowers.

"Come on, honey. Come on, sweetie." With his arm around his wife, he led her to the sofa. "Let's just sit down." "Daddy?" A little girl, all curls and sleepy eyes padded into the room.

"Go back to bed, Kiki." "What's wrong with Mommy?" "Go on back to bed, baby. I'll be there in a minute." "I'm thirsty." "Kiki-" "Would you like me to take care of her?" Peabody asked.

"I…" He looked undone for a moment, then nodded.

"Hi, Kiki, I'm Dee." Peabody walked over, took the little girl's hand. "Why don't we get a glass of water?" "My partner's good with kids," Eve told him. "She'll be fine." "Could there be a mistake?" "No, sir." "An accident?" Carleen turned her face into her husband's shoulder. "An accident?" "No. Your sister was murdered." "Junkies," Steeple said. Bitterly.

"No." Eve studied Carleen's face, the pallor, the tears, the plea in her eyes. "I know this is difficult. It's going to get more so. It appears that your sister was attacked on her way home from work. In Memorial Park." "She always cut through the park." Carleen groped for her husband's hand. "It's quicker. It's safe." "A mugging?" Get through it, Eve told herself. Get it done fast, so they don't suffer in the speculation. "She was raped and strangled." "Lily?" Carleen's teary eyes went huge in shock. "Lily?"

She would have slid to the floor if her husband hadn't held her. "No, no, no." "The city should be safe." There were tears in Steeple's eyes now as he rocked his wife. "A woman should be able to walk home from goddamn work and be safe." "Yes, sir. She should. We're going to do everything we can to find who did this to her. We need your help. I need to ask you some questions." "Now?" He tightened his hold on his wife. "Can't you see we're grieving?" "Mr Steeple." Eve leaned forward so he met her eyes, so he saw what was in them. "Did you care for your sister-in-law?" "Of course I did. Jesus." "Do you want the man who did this to her punished?" "Punished?" He spat out the word. "I want him dead." "I want to find him. I want to stop him. I will find him, and I will stop him. But with your help, I may be able to do it faster. I may be able to do it before he does this to someone else's sister." He stared at her for a long moment. "Could you give us a minute? A minute alone?" "Sure." "You could go in the kitchen over there." He gestured.

Eve left them alone, walked into a galley-style kitchen with a bump out for eating. There were benches for seating covered by cushions with zigzagging patterns of yellows and blues. Yellow curtains with blue borders framed the windows.

Place mats, she supposed you called them, lay on the table at each space, and matched the bench cushion.

Eve picked one up, lingering it.

"Lieutenant Dallas?" Steeple came to the doorway. "We're ready now. I'm going to make some coffee. I think we could all use some."

– -**--

They sat in the living area, and with the little girl settled down, Peabody joined them. Carleen's eyes were stark and damp, but she was making an effort to compose herself, Eve saw.

"Nothing about this is easy," Eve began. "We'll be as brief as possible so we can give you some privacy." "Can I see her?" "Not at this time, no. I'm sorry. Your sister worked at O'Hara's Bar and Grill?" "Yes. Five years now. She liked it there. It's a friendly place, and close to her apartment. She made good tips. She liked working nights and having most of her afternoons free." "Was she in a relationship?" "Not right now. She dated some, but she's been a little shy of men since the divorce." "And the ex-husband?" "Rip? He's remarried and lives in Vermont. I think, really, he was the love of her life, but she wasn't his. Things just fell apart. It wasn't ugly. It was just sad." "Don't go looking at him for this." Temper spiked in Steeple's voice. "Some junkie maniac did this, and you waste time hassling a decent guy. A moron, but a decent guy, while the bastard who-" "Andy." With a muffled sob, Carleen gripped his hand.

"Don't. Just don't." "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But whoever did this is out there ru