“You found her. But…”
“We should go inside, Ms. York.” Peabody took Jaycee’s arm, eased her around. “We should go sit down.”
“It’s going to be bad. It’s going to be very, very bad. Will you please say it quickly? Would you please tell me fast?”
“Your sister’s dead, Ms. York.” With her hand still on Jaycee’s arm, Peabody felt the shudder. “We’re very sorry for your loss.”
“I knew, I think. I knew as soon as they called from the club. I knew something awful had happened to her.”
Peabody guided Jaycee to a chair in the living area. Lots of clutter, Eve noted, the kind that shouted a family lived there. There were photographs of young boys, of a laughing man, of the victim.
There were several colorful throws, a lot of big floor pillows that looked as if they’d had a great deal of use.
“Is your husband at home, Ms. York?” Eve asked. “Would you like us to get him for you?”
“He’s not…Clint took the boys to Arizona. To…to Sedona. A week. It’s a school camp.” Jaycee looked around the room as if expecting to see them. “They went to camp, and I didn’t. I didn’t want to camp, and I had work. And wouldn’t it be nice, I thought, wouldn’t it be nice to have a week at home by myself. I didn’t call them. I didn’t tell them because they’d worry. Why worry them when everything’s going to be fine? I kept telling myself everything was going to be fine.
“But it’s not. It’s not.”
She covered her face with her hands and began to weep.
Eve put her at a decade older than her sister. Her hair was short and blond, her devastated eyes a summer blue.
“I called the police.” She sobbed out the words. “When they said she hadn’t come into work, I called the police. I went to her apartment, but she wasn’t there, so I called. And they said to file a report. A missing person’s report.”
She closed her eyes. “What happened to Sari? What happened to my sister?”
There was an ottoman in front of the chair. Eve sat on it so they would be face-to-face. “I’m sorry. She was murdered.”
The splotchy color weeping painted in her cheeks died away to shock-white. “They said—I heard—they said there was a woman found tonight, in East River Park. Identification withheld, they said, until notification of next of kin. I’m next of kin.”
Jaycee pressed a hand to her lips. “I thought, ‘No, no, that’s not Sari. Sari doesn’t live on the East Side.’ But I kept waiting for someone to knock on the door. And you did.”
“You were close, you and your sister.”
“I…I can’t. I can’t.”
“I’m going to get you some water, Ms. York.” Peabody touched a hand to Jaycee’s shoulder. “Is it all right if I go into the kitchen and get you some water?”
Jaycee only nodded as she stared at Eve. “She was my babydoll. My mother died when I was little, and a few years later, my father remarried. They had Sari. Sarifina. She was so pretty, like a doll. I loved her.”
“Would she have told you if anyone was bothering her? If she was disturbed or uneasy about anything?”
“Yes. We talked all the time. She loved her job. She was so good at it, and it made her so happy. But it was a problem for Cal. The man she’d been seeing for the last few months. The fact that she worked at night and couldn’t spend that time with him. She was angry and hurt that he’d given her an ultimatum. That she had to quit her job or he’d break things off. So they broke up. She was better off.”
“Because?”
“He isn’t good enough for her. That’s not just sister talk.” She paused, took the water Peabody offered her. “Thank you. Thanks. He just wasn’t good enough—selfish streak, and he didn’t like the fact she was making more money that he was. She knew it, recognized it, and was ready to move on. Still, she was sad about it. Sari doesn’t like to lose. You don’t think…Do you think Cal hurt her?”
“Do you?”
“No.” Jaycee drank, breathed carefully, took another small sip. “I wouldn’t have thought it. It never crossed my mind. Why would he? He didn’t love her,” Jaycee said dully. “And he was much too interested in himself to get worked up enough to…I need to see her. I need to see Sari.”
“We’ll arrange for that. When did you see her last?”
“Last Sunday afternoon. Before Clint and the boys left. She came by to say good-bye. She was so full of life, of energy. We made plans to shop on Saturday—tomorrow. My guys aren’t coming home until Sunday, they’re taking a play day before they come home. Sari and I are going shopping, and out for lunch. Oh, God. Oh, God. How did she die? How did my baby die?”
“We’re still investigating, Ms. York. As soon as I can give you details, I will.” She would not, Eve thought, tell this poor woman, not while there was no one to lean on, what had happened to her sister. “We can contact your husband. You want him and your sons home now?”