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“Yes, of course. Is this about Cicely? Jack—”

He only shook his head and kept his hand on her shoulder.

“You are also acquainted with the deceased’s family. Her former husband Marco Angelini, her son, David Angelini, and her daughter, Mirina.”

“I’m more than acquainted. Her children are like family. Why, Linda even dated—”

“Mom.” With a bolstering smile, Linda interrupted. “Just answer the question. Don’t elaborate.”

“But this is ridiculous.” Some of Anna’s puzzlement edged over into irritation. It was her home, after all, her family. “Lieutenant Dallas already knows the answers.”

“I’m sorry to go over the same ground, Mrs. Whitney. Would you describe your relationship with David Angelini?”

“David? Why I’m his godmother. I watched him grow up.”

“You’re aware that David Angelini was in financial distress prior to the death of his mother.”

“Yes, he was . . .” Her eyes went huge. “You don’t seriously believe that David . . . That’s hideous.” She snapped it out before her mouth compressed into a thin red line. “I’m not going to dignify this with an answer.”

“I understand you feel protective toward your godson, Mrs. Whitney. I understand you would go to some lengths to protect him—and to some expense. Two hundred thousand dollars.”

Anna’s face whitened under her careful cosmetics. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Mrs. Whitney, do you deny paying to David Angelini the sum of two hundred thousand dollars, in installments of fifty thousand dollars over a four-month period, beginning in February of this year and ending in May?”

“I . . .” She clutched at her daughter’s hand, avoided her husband’s. “Do I have to answer that, Linda?”

“A moment please, to confer with my client.” Briskly, Linda scooped an arm around her mother and led her into the next room.

“You’re very good, Lieutenant,” Whitney said tightly. “It’s been some time since I observed one of your interviews.”

“Jack.” Feeney sighed, hurting for everyone. “She’s doing her job.”

“Yes, she is. It’s what she’s best at.” He looked over as his wife came back into the room.

She was pale, trembling a little. The burning in his gut flared.

“We’ll continue,” Linda said. There was a warrior glint in her eye when she focused on Eve. “My client wishes to make a statement. Go ahead, Mom, it’s all right.”

“I’m sorry.” Tears starred on her lashes. “Jack, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. He was in trouble. I know what you said, but I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s all right.” Resigned, he took the hand that reached out for his and stood beside her. “Tell the lieutenant the truth, and we’ll deal with it.”

“I gave him the money.”

“Did he threaten you, Mrs. Whitney?”

“What?” Shock seemed to dry up the tears swimming in her eyes. “Oh my goodness. Of course he didn’t threaten me. He was in trouble,” she repeated, as if that should be enough for anyone. “He owed a very great deal of money to the wrong kind of people. His business—that portion of his father’s business that he oversaw—was in some temporary upheaval. And he had a new project he was trying to get off the ground. He explained it,” she added with a wave of her free hand. “I don’t remember precisely. I don’t bother overmuch with business.”

“Mrs. Whitney, you gave him four payments of fifty thousand. You didn’t relay this information to me in our other interviews.”

“What business of yours was it?” Her spine was back, snapped hard and cold so that she sat like a statue. “It was my money, and a personal loan to my godchild.”

“A godchild,” Eve said with straining patience, “who was being questioned in a murder investigation.”

“His mother’s murder. You might as well accuse me of killing her as David.”

“You didn’t inherit a sizable portion of her estate.”


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery