She rubbed her arms. “He carried her from here. It’s dim because she was already gone. Some part of her is still with me, but it’s thin.”
“She weighed about a hundred and thirty. Deadweight now.”
“He’s very strong.”
“Have to be.”
“Prides himself,” Celina murmured as she began to walk. “Yes, there’s pride. In his body, in his strength. She’s so much weaker than he is now.”
“Not the victim.” Eve fell into step with her. “But who the victim symbolizes.”
“Possibly. Probably.” Celina brushed stray hair away from her face. A trio of interlinked gold circles swung at her ears. “You probably see him more clearly than I do. You’re not as afraid of him as I am.”
She paused to study the castle. “I wonder why he picked this spot. It’s fanciful. A landmark. He could have left her anywhere. It would’ve been easier.”
Eve had her thoughts on that, but kept them to herself. “How tall is he?”
“Well over six feet. Well over. Closer to seven. Thick-bodied, but hard—not fat. Not hard fat. Muscular. I could feel that, when he raped her.”
She sat on the grass. “Sorry. I’m getting the shakes. I’m not used to this kind of work. It’s draining. How do you do it?”
“It’s what I do.”
“Yes. Both of you.” She opened her purse, took out a pretty box. “Blocker,” she said when she selected a pill from it. “Vicious headache. I can’t do anymore today. I’m sorry. Tapped out.”
To Eve’s surprise, Celina stretched out full length on the grass. “Do you know what I’d normally be doing now?”
“Can’t say.”
Idly, Celina checked the time. “Oh, yes. Francine. Right about now I’d be settling down to a consult with Francine. I give her a weekly, because I’m fond of her. She’s a lovely, foolish, wealthy woman with a terminal case of husbanditis. She just keeps marrying them. She’s about to take on husband number five, though I’ve advised her against it. Just as I did with numbers three and four.”
Lazily, Celina drew the pair of stylish sunshades back out of her pocket. She slipped them on. “She’ll get teary during our hour together, and protest that she must follow her heart.” Her lips quirked as she patted a hand on her breast. “That this time it’s going to be different. She’ll marry the opportunistic son of a bitch who will then cheat on her—he already has, but she’ll refuse to believe it—make her miserable, then walk off with her pride, her self-esteem, and a nice chunk of her portfolio.”
She shook her head, pushed herself up to sitting. “Poor gullible Francine. And that, Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody, is about the most tragic case I allow myself to deal with.”
“How do you know when you talk to a client that you won’t see something tragic?” Eve asked, and Celina smiled.
“It’s my job to know. And if I miss something, then see it, I do what I can, then I step back. I don’t believe in suffering, particularly when it’s me doing the suffering. I don’t understand why people insist on causing it or enduring it. I’m a shallow creature,” she said, stretching like a cat in the sun. “But until a couple of nights ago, a damn contented one.”
Peabody offered a hand to help her up. Celina studied it, grinned. “Can I take a peek? Just surface. Not deep probe, no secrets. You both interest me.”
Peabody wiped her hand on her trousers, then offered it again. “I guess so.”
Celina clasped hands, continued to hold it after she’d gained her feet. “You’re a dependable woman. Sturdy shoulders, and a loyal streak that encompasses every area of your life. You’re proud of your badge, and the work you do. Careful,” she said with a laugh, and released Peabody’s hand. “You open like a door. I didn’t intend to peek into your personal life. But he’s a cutie.” She winked. “She-body.”
Peabody flushed. “We’re, ah, moving into a new place together. Going to cohabitate.”
“Congratulations. Ain’t love grand?” Smiling, she turned to Eve. Raised her eyebrows.
“No.”
Laughing, Celina tucked her hands into her pockets. “One of these days, I predict, you’ll trust me enough. Thanks,” she said to Peabody. “You cleansed my palate. I’ll catch a cab in a bit. I want to walk off this headache before I go home.”
She started to walk, directing herself away from the path they’d taken. Then she stopped, turned. There was none of the easy humor on her face now. “It’s going to be soon. The next. I don’t know how I know that, but I do. It’s going to be very soon.”
Eve watched her go and, gift or no gift, knew she was right.
Chapter 7