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“True enough, true enough. Could be. She’d have had to move fast, but from our brief meeting earlier, I’d peg her as the impulsive type. Still…”

Eve walked around the room, into the little bath, out into the stingy living area with its mini kitchen. There were lots of knickknacks, more art reproductions, romantic themes, on the walls. There were no dishes in the little bowl of the sink, no articles of clothing tossed around. No tissues scattered anywhere but the bedroom.

And, she noted, ru

“Place is really clean. Fu

“Could’ve always been tidy.”

“Could’ve been,” Eve agreed.

“Or she might’ve buffed the place up, just the way she buffed herself up before she did it. One of my great-aunts is obsessed about making the bed as soon as she’s out of it every morning, because if she keels over and dies, she doesn’t want anybody thinking she’s a careless housekeeper. Some people are weird that way.”

“Okay, so she gets the pills, buys herself a pink rosebud. Then she comes home, cleans the house, spruces herself up. Sits on the bed crying, eating ice cream, drinking wine. Writes the note, then pops the pills, lies down and dies. Could’ve gone down just that way.”

Peabody puffed air into her cheeks. “But you don’t think so, and I feel like I’m missing something really obvious.”

“The only thing obvious is a twenty-one-year-old girl’s dead. And from first look, it appears to be a straight, grief-induced self-termination.”

“Just like Bissel and Kade appeared to be a straight, passion-motivated double homicide.”

“Well now, Peabody.” Eve hooked her thumbs in her front pockets. “You don’t say?”

“Okay, I’m picking up the trail, but if this, like the double homicide, is an HSO or terrorist hit, what’s the motive?”

“She knew Bissel. She was his lover.”

“Yeah, but she was a kid, a toss-away. If she knew anything relevant to Bissel’s work, or the Code Red, anything hot, I’ll eat my shiny new detective’s badge.”

“I tend to agree, but maybe someone else didn’t. Or maybe it was just housecleaning. The fact is that there’s a co

“Deena Hornbock, across-the-hall neighbor.”

“Do a run. I want to know everything about her before I interview her. Have the uniform keep her in her apartment and under control.”

“Check.”

“Contact Crime Scene, and Morris. I want Morris personally on her. And I want CSU to sweep this place down to the last molecule.”

Peabody paused at the door. “You really don’t think she killed herself.”

“If she did, I’ll eat my no-longer-shiny lieutenant’s badge. Let’s get to work.”

There were no signs of struggle, no evidence of insult or injury to the body that would indicate force. Eve hadn’t expected any. She’d died shortly after three A.M. Painlessly, quietly. Uselessly, Eve thought.

Her ‘links were in working order, though they’d been shut down shortly after midnight. Reactivating, Eve found her last transmission was an incoming from Deena across the hall at twenty-one hundred and involved a great deal of weeping and sympathy.

I’m coming over, Deena had said. You shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.

Much tearful gratitude, then the transmission ended.

But the data unit wouldn’t boot. Infected, she’d bet the bank on it. What would a silly art student have on a data unit that could worry the HSO, or techno-terrorists?





When she’d done all she could with the body and the bedroom, she moved into the living area where Peabody worked with the sweepers. “They’re bagging her for transport. Suspicious death. Give me Deena Hornbock.”

“Student, single, twenty-one. A theater major, with a eye toward set design. She’s got considerable work on her résumé. Lived at this location for a year. Prior to that did the dorm thing at Soho Theatrical Studies. Prior to that, lived with mother and stepfather in St. Paul. One younger sib, brother. No criminal except a suspended for recreational Zoner when she was eighteen. Pays the rent on time. I contacted the landlord.”

“Good.”

“McCoy’s also up to date on rent, though she tended to pay just before the late fee would kick in. She paid up yesterday, an e-transfer at sixteen thirty-three.”

“Yeah? Really tidy to pay the month’s rent when you’re pla

Deena Hornbock was shaken but composed as she sat in a plush red chair and sipped continuously from a bottle of water. She was a thin, striking black woman with a small tattoo of a pair of red wings at her left temple.

“Ms. Hornbock, I’m Lieutenant Dallas, and this is Detective Peabody. We need to ask you some questions.”

“I know. I’m really going to try to help. I didn’t know what to do. I just didn’t know, so I ran out and started yelling for somebody to call the police. Somebody did, I guess. I just sat down, right out in the hall until Officer Nalley came.”

“How did you get into Chloe’s apartment?”

“Oh, I have a key. She’s got one for mine, too. We were always in and out of each other’s places. Should I give it to you? The key?”

“I’d appreciate that. We’ll get it before we leave. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

“Okay.” She drew breath in and out, scrubbed a hand over her face. “Okay. I got back from class, and I thought I’d see how she was doing. She was so upset about Blair’s death. Just flattened, you know?” Deena let out a long sigh. “I just went right in. When I left her last night I promised to come by this afternoon after class, so I didn’t bother to knock or anything. I just went in and called out that I was there.”

“The door was locked?”

“Yeah. When she didn’t answer, I went back to the bedroom. I was going to try to talk her into going out, or at least over to my place. Cheer her up. God. It’s hard to say it,” she managed. “It makes me see it again.”

“I know.”

“I went in. I saw her on the bed. I didn’t get it at first, just didn’t think… I said something like: ‘Oh, come on, Chlo.’ I said something like that…” Her voice started to break. “Jesus, ‘Come on, Chlo,’ a little impatient, I guess, because it was all so… stagey and dramatic. I was a little irritated with her as I walked over to the bed. And then…”

“Take your time,” Eve instructed as Deena took a long, long sip from the bottle of water.

“Her eyes were open. Staring and open, and I still didn’t get it. For just an instant, I couldn’t get it. It was like part of my brain shut down. I’ve seen someone dead before. My great-grandmother.” Deena knuckled a tear away. “She lived with us for a while, and she died in her sleep one night. I found her in the morning, so I’ve seen somebody dead before. But it’s not the same when they’re young, when you’re not expecting it.”

It’s never the same, Eve thought. “Did you touch her, or anything else?”

“I think I touched her shoulder, or her arm. I think I reached down to touch her because I didn’t see how she could be dead. But she was cold. God, her skin was cold, and I knew. That’s when I ran out and started yelling.”

“You sat down in the hall, and stayed there until Officer Nalley came.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Did you or anyone else go into the apartment before the officer responded?”

“No. I just sat in front of her door, crying. Some people came out of their apartments, and asked me what was going on. I said, ‘She’s dead.’ I said, ‘Chloe’s dead,’ that she killed herself.”

“Okay. You talked to her last night.”