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He stopped speaking, covered his face with his hands, and rubbed hard. “I couldn’t tell,” he continued, “until I was practically on top of her. I thought—I don’t know what I thought, really. Somebody took a hell of a spill.”

“You didn’t recognize the victim?”

“The—the hood.” he gestured vaguely, helplessly with his hands. “It was over her face. I reached down, and I started to move it away from her face.” He gave one violent shudder. “Then I saw the blood—her throat. The blood,” he repeated, and covered his eyes.

“Did you touch the body?”

“No, I don’t think—no. She was just lying there, and her throat was wide open. Her eyes. No, I didn’t touch her.” He dropped his hand again, made what appeared to be a herculean effort for control. “I got sick. You probably don’t understand that, Dallas. Some people have basic human reactions. All that blood, her eyes. God. I got sick, and I got scared and I ran inside. The guard on the desk. I told him.”

“You knew the victim?”

“Sure, I knew her. Louise had edited a few pieces for me. Mostly she worked with Nadine, but she did some pieces for me and for some others. She was good, real good. Quick, a sharp eye. One of the best. Christ.” He reached for the pitcher on the table. Water sloshed as he poured it. “There was no reason to kill her. No reason at all.”

“Was it her habit to go out that exit at that time?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think—she should have been in Editing,” he said fiercely.

“Were you close, personally?”

His head came up, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to pin this on me, aren’t you? You’d really like that.”

“Just answer the questions, C. J. Were you involved with her?”

“She had a relationship, talked about some guy named Bongo. We worked together, Dallas. That’s all.”

“You arrived at Channel 75 at eleven fifteen. Before that?”

“Before that I was at home. When I have the midnight shift, I catch a couple hours’ sleep. I didn’t have a feature running, so I didn’t have much prep. It was supposed to be just a read, a recap of the day. I had dinner with some friends about seven, headed home around eight, and took a nap.”

He propped his elbows on the table and lowered his head into his hands. “I had my wake-up at ten, then headed out just before eleven. Gave myself a little extra travel time because of the weather. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.”

If Eve hadn’t watched him report on camera minutes after his discovery of the body, she might have felt sorry for him. “Did you see anyone at or near the scene?”

“Just Louise. There’s not a lot of people going in and out that time of night. I didn’t see anybody. Just Louise. Just Louise.”

“Okay, C. J., that’s about it this time around.”

He set down the glass he’d guzzled from again. “I can go?”

“Keep in mind you’re a witness. If you’re holding back, or if you remember anything not revealed in this interview, I’ll charge you with withholding evidence and impeding an investigation.” She smiled pleasantly. “Oh, and give me the names of your friends, C. J. I didn’t think you had any.”

She let him go and brooded while she waited for Nadine to be brought in. The scenario was all too clear. And the guilt came with it. To keep both fresh, she flipped open the file and studied the hard copy photos of Louise Kirski’s body. She turned them facedown when the door opened.

Nadine didn’t look polished now. The professional gloss of the on-air personality had given way to a pale, shaken woman with swollen eyes and a trembling mouth. Saying nothing, Eve gestured to the chair and poured water in a fresh glass.

“You were quick,” she said coolly, “getting your report on the air.”

“That’s my job.” Nadine didn’t touch the glass, but gripped her hands in her lap. “You do yours, I do mine.”

“Right. Just serving the public, aren’t we?”

“I’m not very interested in what you think of me right now, Dallas.”

“Just as well, because I don’t think very much of you right now.” For the second time, she started the recorder, fed in the necessary information. “When did you last see Louise Kirski alive?”

“We were working in Editing, refining and timing a piece for the midnight spot. It didn’t take as much time as we’d scheduled to finish. Louise was good, really good.” Nadine drew a deep breath and continued to stare at a spot an inch above Eve’s left shoulder. “We talked for a few minutes. She and the man she’d been seeing for the last several months were looking for an apartment together. She was happy. Louise was a happy person, easy to get along with, bright.”

She had to stop again, had to. Her breath was backing up. Carefully, firmly, she ordered herself to inhale, exhale. Twice. “Anyway, she was out of cigarettes. She liked to catch a quick smoke between assignments. Everybody looked the other way, even though she’d sneak off into a closet somewhere and light up. I told her to pick me up a couple while she was at it, gave her some credits. We went down together, and I got off at the newsroom. I had some calls to make. Otherwise, I’d have gone with her. I’d have been with her.”


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery