Witness in Death

"Maybe." Michael blew out a breath. "Maybe that was part of it. But she made a new life, she's happy in it."

"He hurt her."

"Yeah." His gaze flashed up, ripe with bitterness. "Yeah, he hurt her. You want me to say I hated him for it? Maybe I did, on some level."

"Michael, don't say any more," Carly warned.

"The hell with that." His voice took on conviction as well as anger. "She's talking about my mother. She wasn't some cheap tramp, some toy he picked up then tossed aside. She was a nice, naive girl. He took advantage of that, of her."

"Did he give her illegals, Michael?" Eve asked. "Did he give her a taste for them?"

"No. He tried. The son of a bitch."

"Michael, you don't have to answer her questions."

"I'm going to straighten this out, right now." Heat rolled off him in violent waves. "She told me that she came into the room and he was putting drops of something in her drink. She asked him what it was, and he just laughed. He said… my mother doesn't use hard language, but she told me exactly what he said. It would make her fuck like a rabbit."

Muscles quivered in his jaw as he stared at Eve. "She didn't even know what it meant. But I knew, when she told me, I knew. The bastard tried to slip her Wild Rabbit."

"But she didn't drink it?"

"No, it scared her. She told him she didn't want anything to drink, and that's when he got mad. He called her names, tried to make her drink it. She realized then what kind of man he was and she ran. She was crushed, disillusioned. She went back home. She told me that was the best thing that ever happened to her, going home.

"He didn't even remember her," Michael added. "He didn't even have the decency to remember her name."

"You spoke to him about her?"

"I wanted to see how he'd react. He didn't even pretend to remember. She meant nothing to him. No one did."

"Did you tell him? Remind him?"

"No." He deflated, the heat evaporating. "No, I didn't see the point. And if I'd pushed it, I'd have lost the job."

"Don't. Don't let it hurt you."

Eve's eyes narrowed in speculation as Carly slipped her arms around him, soothed. They stayed narrowed and cool when Carly shot her a burning glare. "Leave him alone. Do you get your kicks picking on people weaker than you?"

"It's what gets me through the day." You're not weak, Eve thought. Did the people who made you form you, she wondered. Or the people who raised you?

"It must have been hard on you, Michael, knowing all that and seeing Draco day after day."

"I had to put it out of my mind. I couldn't change what had happened, could I?" He gave a shrug that tried to be defiant. "And nothing I could do would make any difference. And one day, I'd step out onstage in his place, and I'd be better. That would be enough."

"You've got that chance now, don't you? A chance to stand in his light. A chance to be with one of his lovers."

His tightly compressed lips trembled apart. "Carly. It wasn't like that. I don't want you to think – "

"Of course it wasn't." She put a hand over his. "The lieutenant has a foul mind."

"Ms. Landsdowne."

Carly ignored Eve for a moment and laid gentle kisses on both of Michael's cheeks. "You've spilled your coffee. Why don't you go back and get us both a fresh cup?"

"Yeah. All right." He got to his feet. "My mother is a wonderful woman."

"Of course she is," Carly replied.

When he went back into the kitchen, she turned to face Eve fully. "I don't like seeing Michael's vulnerabilities exploited, Lieutenant. The strong are supposed to protect the weak, not kick them in the face."

"Maybe you're not giving him enough credit for spine." Eve moved over, eased down on the arm of a chair. "He defended his mother very well. For some, family ties are the strongest. You didn't mention you were adopted, Ms. Landsdowne."

"What?" Confusion clouded her eyes. "For heaven's sakes, why should I have? I don't remember it half the time. What business is that of yours?"

"It was a private adoption, at birth."

"Yes. My parents never hid it from me. Neither was it made a particular issue in our home."

"Did they give you the details of your heritage?"

"Details? Medical history, ethnicity, of course. I was told my birth mother arranged for my placement because she wanted the best for me, and so on and so forth. Whether that was true or not never mattered. I had my mother."

She paused, then asked, "Are you speculating that my mother had a relationship with Richard at one time?" She let out a rolling laugh and shook back her cloud of tousled hair. "I can assure you she didn't. My mother never met Richard Draco. She and my father have been happily married for nearly thirty years. Before I was born she was a travel agent, not an actress."

"You were never curious about the woman who gave you up?"

"Not particularly. I have wonderful parents whom I love, and who love me. Why should I wonder about a woman who's nothing but a stranger to me?"

Like mother, like daughter, Eve thought.

"Many adoptees want contact, want answers, even a relationship with their birth parents."

"I didn't. Don't. There was no hole in my life to fill. I'm sure my parents would have helped me find her if I'd asked. If I'd needed that. I didn't. And it would have hurt them," she said quietly. "I would never hurt them. How is this relevant?"

"Do you recognize the name Anja Carvell?"

"No." She stiffened slightly. "Are you telling me that's the name of the woman who placed me? I didn't ask for a name. I didn't want a name."

"You have no knowledge, have had no contact with a woman by that name?"

"No, and I don't want any." Carly got to her feet. "You've no right to do this. To play with my life this way."

"You never asked about your birth father."

"Goddamn it, if she's nothing to me, he's less than nothing. A lucky sperm. You wanted a rise out of me, you got one. Now, what does this have to do with Richard Draco's death?"

Eve said nothing, and in the silence she watched denial, disbelief, then horror flash into Carly's eyes. "No, that's a lie. A revolting, vicious lie. You hideous bitch."

She grabbed the little pot of violets on the table, heaved them to shower glass and petals down the wall. "It's not true."

"It's documented," Eve said flatly. "Richard Draco was your birth father."

"No. No." Carly sprang at Eve, shoved her roughly against a table and upended a lamp. The china exploded like a bomb. Before Peabody could intervene, Eve signaled her back, and took the hard slap to the face without attempting to block.

"Take it back! Take it back!"

She shouted it, tears spurting out of her eyes. Her beauty was stark now, white face, dark eyes. She grabbed Eve's shirt, shook, then with a moan, collapsed on her.

"Oh God. Oh my God."

"Carly." Michael bolted in from the kitchen. One look at his face told Eve he'd listened, he'd heard. When he rushed to Carly, tried to turn her into his own arms, she shoved away, crossed her arms defensively over her breasts.

"Don't touch me. Don't touch me." Like a candle burned to wax, she slid to the floor in a shuddering puddle.

"Peabody, take Michael back into the kitchen."

He stepped back, stared at Eve. "It was cruel what you did. Cruel." He walked toward the kitchen with Peabody behind him.

Eve crouched. She could still feel the heat from the crack of Carly's hand across her face. But her gut was iced over. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

Carly lifted her face, and her eyes were ravaged. "I don't know who I loathe more at this moment: myself or you."

"If you were unaware of your blood tie to him, you have nothing to loathe yourself for."

"I had sex with him. I put my hands on him. Allowed him to put his on me. Can you conceive how that makes me feel? How dirty that makes me feel?"