Chapter Twenty-three

Smarter, Eve decided as she prepped for the interview, to have yelled lawyer right off the jump. But he considered himself in the clear on the murder, and as far as he was concerned hadn't stolen anything.

Add he considered himself smarter than a couple of female cops, and he'd decided to forgo that one. For now.

Tagging a lawyer also meant someone else knew about his arrest. He wouldn't want that.

She put the evidence bags in an evidence box, added some crime scene photos to a file. Then, checking the time, tagged Roarke.

His face filled the screen. "Lieutenant, you just caught me. Lunch meeting coming up."

"Well, bon appétit there. Just letting you know I'm bringing Barney into the box."

"For the murder."

"That'll be the end result. We're starting off with theft. What he took out of Shauna's apartment that day. I knew it. Now I know what. Some baubles he'd given her back in high school. She'd kept them in a box for sentiment. I guess he couldn't have that, so when he had the chance—alone in her place—he took the box. He hid it in his sock drawer."

"His sock drawer? Not very clever."

"Well, it's the top of one of those highboy things. He has his socks folded, in dividers, color coordinated. It's a red box, so with the red socks. Do you do that with yours? The folding, coordinating thing? I don't think I've ever been in your sock drawer."

"Why would you? But you're welcome to, as if I had anything to hide, I would be a great deal more clever. If I could postpone this meeting, I'd come down and watch you break him. Always an education."

Gone, she noted, was the sad, broody, angry Roarke of the night before. He looked like busy, in-charge Roarke now.

"We will break him, and I appreciate the assist in getting him this far."

"Anytime, Lieutenant. I'll expect to be fully briefed when I see you at home."

"Check it. Later."

She clicked off, then gathered her things for Interview A.

She sat as if studiously studying the file when Peabody led him in.

The Giant's Tear hung, flashing, outside her shirt.

"Record on. Have a seat, Greg. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, in Interview with Barney, Greg, in the matter of file number R/T-98721. Also of interest in this interview, file number H-7823.

"Mr. Barney, have you been read your rights?"

"You know very well I have." He fussed with his tie. "You recited them to me yourself after deliberately humiliating me at work."

"Well then, let's get started."

"I demand to know, right now, what I'm accused of. Just what are you deluded into believing I stole?"

"Why don't I show you?"

After opening the evidence box, she removed the evidence bag with the red trinket box.

He went very still, and his face went from annoyed to a cold, hard mask.

"Where did you get that?"

"Where you put it. Your sock drawer—lots of fancy socks, Greg. Red box, red socks. Found it in about ten seconds."

"And what gives you the right to go into my home, to paw through my personal belongings?"

"Peabody?"

"Why, that would be this warrant."

"Duly executed," Eve added. "This and what it contains are not your property, Greg. Hence, theft."

"I knew this was a ridiculous mistake." He huffed out a breath, leaned in a bit. "I gave what's in that box to Shauna."

"Gifts."

"Yes, yes, gifts."

"Are you aware that once you give a gift, it no longer belongs to you? Hence, I repeat, theft."

"I took them for safekeeping. Shauna's not been herself, as you should understand. She's had a trauma, and isn't thinking straight right now. She's talking about selling most of her things, and since I know she values those gifts, has kept them for years, I didn't want them to get somehow lost in the shuffle."

"So you took them, without asking her. Hence, I'm forced to repeat, theft."

"She would never think of it that way. People are going through her apartment. Friends and relatives of Erin. Who knows what they might take? I just wanted to keep them safe until she's feeling better."

"So, worried about thievery, you committed same."

"Oh, for God's sake." He waved that away. "Contact Shauna. She'll say it's fine."

"Yet, you hid this." She tapped the box.

"I didn't hide it. I placed it."

"In the back of your sock drawer. Without mentioning it to your cohab—that's Becca, isn't it? Also a good, concerned friend of Shauna's."

"I may have mentioned it. I don't recall."

"Peabody, why don't you step out and contact Becca DiNuzio, since Greg's memory is sketchy on it?"

"I probably didn't." He waved that away again. "We've been busy, distracted. A friend was murdered. Our closest friend is grieving."

"You took this, with its contents, from Shauna's apartment the evening you were there, ostensibly to remove items from the AC and the friggie."

"Nothing ostensibly about it. That's what I did. I thought of the box while I was clearing out. Maybe I acted impulsively." He shrugged at that. "But with what was best for Shauna in my heart and mind."

"You decide what's best for her?"

"She's grieving," he said with insulting patience. "She's hardly in the state of mind to make logical choices. This is a waste of time. A five-second 'link call to Shauna will straighten this out. And then, I damn well expect those apologies."

"Right. You didn't much like Erin Albright, did you, Greg?"

He managed to look shocked and insulted at once. "Of course I did! She was Shauna's fiancée. And I'm very grateful you, finally, caught her killer. But that doesn't excuse—"

"Yeah, we caught her killer." Eve tapped the box again, then, taking it out of the evidence bag, opened it. "What do you think, Peabody?"

"Sweet, pretty. Immature, but suitable for a high school girl."

"They're classic." He spoke coldly. "Timeless. Simple, yes, but classic, so used to dress up or dress down."

"Well, you're the fashion guy. Still, she kept them separate from her other jewelry. She didn't wear these anymore."

"She could have. Her choice."

"Yeah, hers. Like Erin was her choice. You were her choice once. Shaunbar."

"In high school. Happy memories, yes, and a strong bond between us. But I'm in a committed relationship with someone else."

"From high school."

His jaw tensed, then jutted again. "It's entirely different now, for all of us."

"It really is. Shauna was also in a committed relationship."

"I'm aware."

"And now you'll help her rebuild her life, move past the trauma."

"I'll certainly try."

"Because you look out for her. Making her sandwiches, walking her home from work when you can manage it, giving advice, doing favors."

His long sigh added a fresh layer to that insulting patience.

"Friends tend to do all of that. Good friends, real friends certainly do. Now, I'd like to leave. If you'd just contact Shauna—"

"We've talked to her already," Peabody said. "And she couldn't think of why you, or anyone, would take that box and the jewelry inside."

That concerned him, Eve noted, as his eyes darted away.

"Because you haven't let me talk to her, explain to her. As I think I've clearly explained to you."

"So you took it upon yourself to go into her bedroom—without her knowledge or permission—go through her dresser—without her knowledge or permission—remove a box containing jewelry—without her knowledge or permission. Then hid same in your own bedroom, in your own dresser. That's your explanation for stealing?"

She could actually see the muscles in his face tighten.

"You're being deliberately obtuse." His tone, deeply patronizing, carried an edge of ripe temper.

"Obtuse and flighty? I wonder what's next."

"I simply didn't want Shauna to do something she'd regret. And given her emotional state—"

"Are you her therapist, too?" Peabody widened her eyes. "A man of many facets."

"Oh, blow me."

When that edge went jagged, the smile Eve held inside was broad and fierce.

"Sorry," Peabody countered. "Performing sexual acts in Interview is frowned upon."

"This is bullshit. I was acting in the best interest of a friend who tends to act on impulse and emotion in the best of times. Which these clearly aren't. Now, I'm done with this. I'm leaving."

"Sit your ass down."

The whiplash in Eve's voice had him jerking.

"We're in charge here," she reminded him.

He sat, but eyed her with derision. "You won't be when this is over. Trust me on that."

"I'm a police lieutenant with a dozen years behind my badge. Do you think I'm afraid of some guy who sells overpriced ties? Some guy who steals some cheap jewelry from a friend and hides it in his sock drawer?"

"I manage a well-respected men's store that caters to a discerning clientele. And the jewelry I gave Shauna wasn't cheap. It may not compare to that rock around your neck, but it wasn't cheap. It was appropriate."

"This?" Deliberately, she lifted the diamond by its chain. "I just wear this for sentiment." Which was absolute truth, she thought as she dropped it under her shirt.

"So you stole and secreted this—appropriate—jewelry because you were looking out for your impulsive, emotional friend's best interest?"

"I removed them to safekeeping for Shauna's best interest, yes."

"You like to decide what's in others' best interest. Such as…" She opened the file. "LeRoy Vic, a former assistant manager at your place of employment. You decided it wasn't in his best interest to move to Brooklyn with his pregnant wife and take the manager's position at another store—and took steps to prevent that."

"What is this!" Outrage sizzled, and burned two spots of color in his cheeks. "You dug up a former employee—a classically disgruntled employee—to try to undermine me? He wasn't ready for the position and lacked the necessary leadership qualities to—"

"But served as your assistant manager?"

" Assistant is key," Barney snapped back. "I was doing my best to groom him, mentor him. A few more years under my supervision, and—"

"His sales were excellent, and his previous evaluations prior to this desired move? Also excellent."

"He wasn't ready." Barney did the chin-jut thing again, and this time folded his arms. "And what does my decision as a manager have to do with any of this?"

"In your capacity as manager, you also decided what was best for Sharlene Wilson."

"Oh, for God's sake."

"On several occasions you suggested Ms. Wilson should resign her part-time position and take professional parent status instead."

"She had children at home."

"I see. So in your opinion, women who choose to have a child or children shouldn't also choose to work outside the home?"

"If I recall correctly, Sharlene's professional mother stipend would have been more than her monthly pay from On Trend, where she worked, essentially, a handful of hours a week."

"Especially after you hired another part-time—male—employee and cut her hours."

"That was a managerial decision, and I don't have to explain it to you."

"No, you don't, mostly because it explains itself. You like to manage people. You get to decide what they should do, how they should do it. How they should live. What's best for them. Then you take the necessary steps to see they stay inside the lines you've drawn."

Eve studied him, tapped her fingers on the table. "It makes me wonder, Greg. What do you do when they refuse to stay inside those lines? How far would you go? Obviously, stealing isn't off the table."

"I've explained that. I'm not going to keep repeating myself. Shauna will understand, and will back me a hundred percent, so your intimidation tactics are a waste of time. If you had any common sense or any respect for the position you somehow found yourself holding, you'd let me speak with her and clear this up."

"I bet it pissed you off she put what you gave her in a box." Peabody drew his attention back to her. "And stuck the box in a drawer with her gym and slop clothes. Never wore what you gave her."

"You don't know the first thing about it."

"Tell us about it, Greg," Peabody urged. "Tell us how it felt to have Shauna put Shaunbar away, and live her life the way she chose. How even after college, she wasn't interested in taking Shaunbar out for another spin."

"That was a mutual decision. We'd both moved on."

"Speaking of moving," Eve picked up, "after college, after a brief adjustment period back in the old neighborhood, she moved to Manhattan. And you followed right along soon after, like a puppy. Even moved into the same building."

"For employment, and convenience to my employment."

"So the fact you took employment near hers, moved into the same apartment building had nothing to do with good old Shaunbar."

"Why shouldn't I move into the same building as a good friend?" he demanded, but looked away. "When it's convenient to my work."

"Then, lo and behold, you start dating another old schoolmate. And one Shauna's connected with, made good friends with. In fact, what they both consider best friends."

"What's strange about that? Becca and I began seeing each other, initially through Shauna. We fell in love."

"Did you? Or was she just second choice because Shauna didn't want you?"

"How dare you!" He slapped a fist on the table. "How dare you speak about the woman I'm going to marry that way."

"Oh, you're engaged." Peabody clapped her hands together. "Congratulations."

"Not yet. We will be."

"When you decide?" Eve asked. "When you decide it's the best time, it's best for her?"

"That's how it works!" As he had during the arrest, he sputtered. "When I feel it's right, I buy the ring, I pick the time, the place, and I propose."

"And naturally, she accepts. You decide when and where you'll get married, then if and when to procreate. And if you do procreate, she'll set aside her career until such time as you decide the offspring is old enough for her to pick it up again. If ever."

"Not that it's any of your business, but when I take a wife, I will be head of the household. When we have children, I will provide for them, and she will mother them. This is how strong families are built."

Take a wife, Eve thought. That was a good one.

"So parents who both opt to maintain a career aren't building strong families?"

"That's my personal opinion, to which I'm entitled."

"Sure you are. But what if both parents are men, or both are women? Who's the mom who stays home then?"

"The fact there's that question only demonstrates why such arrangements only foster confusion and difficult family dynamics. I want to speak to Shauna. Now!"

"But this conversation's so interesting. Aren't you interested, Peabody?"

"Fascinated. You know, my aunts Gracie and Lottie have been married for… golly, I think it's forty-odd years. Three kids—grown now—I think it's six grandkids and counting. Gracie's a large animal vet—you know, horses, cows, like that. Lottie's a teacher—history, high school level. They're a pretty strong family."

"In your opinion," Barney commented.

"Yeah." Peabody just smiled. "Everybody's got opinions. Of course, I come from a Free-Ager background." Peabody caught the smirk and only smiled more brightly. "And we're big on tolerance and inclusion."

"And from my scan of your background, yours isn't in the Free-Ager area."

"Decidedly not. No offense," he said to Peabody.

"Oh, absolutely none taken."

"Given your background and stated opinions," Eve began, "what did you think when Shauna became involved with Erin?"

"That she was, again, acting on impulse and the emotion of the moment. She'd dated men who'd disappointed her, or didn't suit her, so she experimented. Unwisely."

"How unwisely?"

He let out an impatient breath. "Aren't we sitting here right now due to that? Aren't I being interrogated and humiliated because of that? You've arrested the woman responsible for this upheaval in our lives. A person Shauna would never, ever have associated with prior to her involvement with a woman like Erin Albright."

"A woman like Erin?"

"A lesbian, for God's sake. A street artist, basically living hand to mouth, who counted strippers, trans people, gay people, people who constantly engaged in indiscriminate sex among her so-called friends. Freaks and losers."

"Clearly you didn't approve of the relationship."

Fury lived in his eyes as he leaned forward.

"I've known Shauna since we were ten. She comes from a strong, traditional family. She may have pushed some limits in college, that's almost expected. But she maintained her basic values."

"Which, you feel, mirror yours. Until Erin."

He spread his hands. "What happened to Erin is tragic. It's horrible, and only more so since she was killed by someone she believed was a friend."

"I completely agree."

Bolstered, he nodded. "How it affects Shauna is heartbreaking. As someone who basically grew up with her, who cares deeply about her, it breaks mine. In time, she'll move past it, and find herself again."

"Pick up those old values," Eve said, "and put away the lifestyle that was more…"

"Bohemian?" Peabody suggested.

"Bohemian. Good one. Is that accurate, Greg?"

"Yes."

"So as tragic, horrible, heartbreaking as it is, Erin's death cleared the way for Shauna to get back to where she belongs."

"I don't forgive ChiChi Lopez for what she did, but it does. Yes."

"Well." Eve looked at Peabody, nodded, looked at Barney, nodded again. "No wonder you had to kill her."

"What!" He surged up. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Sit down!"

"I will not listen to this."

"Sit down." Eve rose slowly. "Or I'll put you down. And believe me, I'll enjoy it."

"You have no right to treat me this way." But he sat. "No cause to say such things to me. You've got Erin's killer. You arrested her."

"We arrested Lopez for assault, on Shauna. Not for Erin's murder— that was your assumption. And boy, did that fit right in for you. The stripper with the garrote in the sex club."

"Hey, like Clue! Love that game. But," Peabody pointed out, "it turns out to be the overbearing ex-boyfriend with the garrote in the sex club."

"Sure does. And when you add ex–high school boyfriend, it's only more pathetic."

"I take mementos for safekeeping, and suddenly I'm a killer?"

"That sure helped. You looked so damn guilty and twitchy when you walked into that hallway and saw me. I knew you'd taken something you shouldn't have. You should've left that alone and I might not have started focusing on you the way I did. That was weak, that was stupid, like it was stupid to try to push the lowlife stranger killer in the sex club on me. I'm a fucking professional."

"That only proves I care about my friend, not that I killed anyone. If you try to tell Shauna I did, I'll sue your lying ass off."

"Oh, she already knows. She knew when she couldn't find the red box with the cheap, high school jewelry. She's been over you for years, Greg. Now, she's done with you. No more Shaunbar."

"She'd never believe you. Never."

"Why? Because you're so good at playing the great guy, good friend? One who hovers, manipulates, and thinks he knows best? Who believes that, so deeply, he'll kill for it? For her? You killed Erin for her. You had to protect Shauna, whatever it took. Had to save her from making a terrible mistake. Save her before she married another woman, a bohemian—good word—who would and had led her astray."

"How could she love Erin," Peabody added, "when she'd been half of Shaunbar? How could she disrespect you, and what you are, by loving a woman?"

"She didn't love Erin, but that's beside the point."

"She was about to marry Erin," Eve pointed out.

"She was caught up, but beside the point."

"What is the point?"

"I didn't kill anyone, you idiot! In fact, I more than tolerated Erin. For fuck's sake, I have two of her substandard paintings in my apartment. It's obvious now you haven't been able to pin this on the stripper, so you're looking for a scapegoat. I will not be your scapegoat."

Eve tried on some insulting patience—and she believed she wore it better.

"Then you shouldn't have been stupid, Greg, and you were. So damn stupid." She rounded the table as his face splotched red with angry color, as she moved behind him. Leaned in, just a little.

"You shouldn't have left the case, the tickets, the note. You should've gotten rid of those. Nobody knew what was in that case but Erin, and you killed her. But you couldn't be sure, could you? Maybe Donna looked in it, because you sure as hell did."

Now she leaned close to his ear, lowered her voice. "And it burned you, burned hard. Maui? You couldn't take that insult. You were supposed to take Shauna there, on your honeymoon. That was the dream. How could you let this happen? Shauna had to suffer, too. She had to pay, too, for allowing it.

"But then"—she straightened, met his eyes in the mirror—"you always planned to kill Erin—remove that obstacle. I think you hoped to kill her right before the wedding, but the whole Maui thing opened another door."

"I'm with Becca."

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, you couldn't be disrespected this way, couldn't have what you had smeared and defiled like this." She tapped the box as she walked around the table again. "You couldn't let this lesbian, this bohemian, this street artist who had sex with strippers lure Shauna into that life. You couldn't have Shaunbar defiled—would you take it to defiled ? Yeah, you would. Defile what you were, what you are."

"And Shauna wouldn't listen." Peabody spoke quietly, in direct contrast to Eve. "She wouldn't be manipulated and maneuvered this time. No matter how you tried to influence her, she resisted. Because of Erin. Because she loved her."

"She did not ! Erin manipulated her, maneuvered her, influenced her. Shauna in some sex club, dancing on a stage half-naked? Kissing another woman, and in public!"

"The horror," Peabody muttered.

"Playing house with another woman? None of that, none is who she is. Erin twisted something in her. Oh, she could be charismatic, no question. Exciting, adventurous. It was a fling, one that went too far, but a fling. It would never have lasted, so I had no reason to kill Erin."

"You did it for yourself." Eve sat back as she studied him. "It embarrassed you. It diminished you. And yeah, enraged you. Because you're a small, petty, stupid man."

"I'm a man!" He shouted it. "And you know nothing. Yes, their relationship embarrassed me. For Shauna. She was making a fool of herself. I actually said that to Becca once, and what did she say? She laughed, and said, ‘A fool for love.'

"Women are so predictable. Love is the reason, the excuse, the fall guy for everything."

"You detested Erin."

"What if I did! She was ruining Shauna's future. She demeaned my past. We had something special, Shauna and I. Yes, we were young, but we had something special. We were something special, and what she was doing with Erin, what she intended to do with Erin despite all sense, demeaned what we had and what we were."

"You were never going to give Shauna back that jewelry."

"So what? So the fuck what? I gave it to her with an open heart. I took it back because she didn't deserve to have it."

"Because of Erin."

"Yes, because of fucking Erin. Maybe I'm not as sorry as you think I should be that she's dead. But I didn't kill her. And you have nothing, absolutely nothing, to say I did."

"Actually, we have this one thing. Because you're a stupid man, Greg. A stupid man who thinks he's smart. A small-minded, stupid man who believes he's special. You're not special. You're pitifully ordinary."

"Fuck you. You have nothing."

"Well, we've got this." Eve reached in the evidence box, pulled out the piano wire. "Something else you should've ditched."

His face paled, then reddened again. "I've never seen that before."

"We found it in your drawer, Greg."

"Then you put it there. You've probably planted evidence countless times, cheating to get where you are so you can strut around with your stunner and your ridiculous diamond and harass innocent people."

"Every minute of the search is on record, and the recording is also in evidence."

"Then Becca must have put it there."

"Whoa." On a quick laugh, Eve sat back. "You're going to throw the woman you intend to marry under the maxibus." Eve shook her head. "Yeah, you're pitifully ordinary."

"And talk about predictable," Peabody added.

"Plus, more stupid." She tapped the package. "The name of the shop where you bought it's right here. And you weren't even smart enough to pay cash or go too far out of your own neighborhood to buy it. Then you fucking kept it. It took one goddamn 'link call to verify you bought it.

"What's below idiot, Peabody?"

"I think moron."

"That's you, Greg. You're a moron. Tell us, why do you have piano wire in your drawer when you don't own a piano?"

A light sweat sheened that all-American face. This time when he fussed with his tie, he loosened the knot.

"It's not against the law."

"Jesus, do you honestly think we can't match this to the wound you put on Erin Albright's throat? What's below a moron?"

"Maybe imbecile."

"He's getting there. A garrote's a mean way to kill, but she deserved it. So you bought the wire, and you looked up how to make a garrote. EDD's had time to go through your e's by now. Why don't you tag them up, Peabody, so we can close this out?"

"Stop it! Stop it! None of that proves anything."

"If there's something below imbecile," Peabody said, "I'm out."

"We'll just say Greg Barney. You have the wire, you have a search for the fashioning of a garrote on your e's. You detested her. She demeaned who you were, and she was leading Shauna into a deplorable—in your view—lifestyle.

"And."

She pulled the last bag out of evidence. "You kept your old 'link, Greg. We didn't need EDD to find your communications with Erin. She trusted you. She asked you for a favor, a favor she wanted so she could surprise Shauna. She didn't tell you what the surprise was—that was her big secret."

"And you agreed. It's all on there," Peabody told him. "When, you asked, where, and how. Such a good guy, such a good friend."

"The when? The day of the party, because she didn't want Donna feeling pressured to get back in time. The where? She'd bring it to you before you left for work—after Becca had already left. Then the how. She'd meet you when you took lunch, give you the swipe."

"I bet she told you not to peek, that she wanted Shauna to be the first to know. But you did, and that sealed Erin's fate."

"Hell, it's like she asked you to kill her. She handed you the perfect opportunity."

"If you had a friend who was hanging off the side of a cliff, would you throw her a rope?" Barney demanded. "If you had a friend drowning because she'd swum out too far, would you do what you could to save her?"

"I would."

"That's all I did. And in time she'll understand."

"No, you did it for yourself, and you're glad she suffered, your good friend Shauna. So you could hover, the loving friend. Offer to make her a sandwich, offer to help get stuff out of her apartment, offer her a shoulder to cry on.

"Then smirk," Eve added. "Yeah, I caught that. Smirk when she gets her face slapped at her fiancée's memorial. What a thrill for you. Her tears, her grief, a kind of payment for embarrassing you. For disrespecting the shine of Shaunbar."

She shoved Erin's crime scene still across the table. "There's your work. I bet you're proud of it."

"I took a life to save a life. And I want a deal."

"I bet you do. Let's go over your movements of that day, that night, so we have all the details in place first."