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Eve shifted, looked into Mrs. Lutz’s shattered face. “Last night Grace met a man she’d been corresponding with by e-mail and in chat rooms. We believe this man doctored her drink or drinks during the evening with a substance known to be used in date rapes.”

“Oh God.” Mrs. Lutz wrapped her arms around her belly and began to rock. “Oh my God.”

“Evidence indicates that he returned with her to her apartment, continued to give her illegals until she overdosed.”

“She would never take illegals.”

“We don’t believe she was aware, Mrs. Lutz.”

“He gave them to her because he wanted to . . .” She pressed her lips together in a tight white line. Then breathed out, one long ragged sound. “He raped her.”

“We suspect that’s true. I . . .” How far did you go? Eve wondered. How much could you help? “Mrs. Lutz, if it’s any comfort to you, Grace wouldn’t have been afraid. She wouldn’t have been in pain.”

“Why would anyone hurt her? What kind of person does that to an innocent young girl?”

“I can’t tell you, but I can tell you I’ll find him. I need you to help me.”

Mrs. Lutz laid her head back. “What can I do if she’s gone?”

“Did she have any boyfriends?”

“Robbie. Robbie Dwyer. They dated in high school, and a bit in the first few semesters of college. He’s a nice boy. His mother and I belong to the same book club.” Her voice wavered. “I suppose we’d hoped more would come of it, but it was more friendship than romance. Grace wanted to move to the city, and Robbie got a job teaching here. They drifted apart.”

“How long ago did they drift?”

“If you’re thinking Robbie would do this, anything like this, you’re wrong. I’ve known him since he was a baby. Anyway, he’s seeing a very nice girl now.”

“Did she ever talk about anyone she was interested in, or who was interested in her? In the city?”

“No, not really. She worked very hard, and she was studying as well. She’s shy. My Gracie’s shy. It’s hard for her to meet new people. That’s why I encouraged her to move to . . .” She broke down again. “George wanted her to stay here, to teach and stay in the nest. I pushed her out, just little nudges, because I wanted her to fly. Now I’ve lost her. Will you take me to her? When George gets here, will you take us to our baby?”

“Yes. I’ll take you to her.”

Commander Whitney was on the ’link when he motioned Eve into his office. He didn’t gesture to a chair, nor did she make any move to sit. His wide face was creased with lines, a map that showed the routes of stress, battles, and authority. His suit was a rich coffee color, nearly the same tone as his skin. In it he looked both beefy and tough. A combination, Eve had always thought, that made him appear as natural behind a desk as he did in the field.

A fluted bowl sat on the right corner of his desk. It was filled with cerulean water with smooth, colored stones shimmering in the base. While she puzzled over it, she caught the quick flash of scarlet.

“My wife,” Whitney said when he ended the call. “She thinks it cheers up the office. Supposed to relax me. What the hell am I supposed to do with a damn fish?”

“I couldn’t say, sir.”

For a moment both of them studied the red streak that circled the bowl. Knowing the commander’s wife was keen on fashion and decor, Eve searched for a polite comment.

“It’s fast.”

“Crazy thing spins around like that most of the day. I get tired just looking at it.”

“At that rate it’ll probably wear itself out and die within a couple weeks.”

“Your mouth to God’s ear. Where’s your aide, Lieutenant?”

“I’ve got her running cross-checks on the two victims. We’ve found no evidence to support a relationsh

ip between them. They both liked books, poetry in particular. Both spent time in cyber-rooms. At this point we can’t place them in the same chat or club at the same time.”

He sat back. “What have you got?”

“The across-the-hall neighbor of Lutz’s, Angela Nicko, found the body this morning. They had a regular morning coffee date, and when Lutz didn’t show, didn’t answer her door, Ms. Nicko was concerned enough to open the door with her spare key. Nicko is a retired librarian, well into her nineties.”


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery