“Of course.”
Mira rose from her position on a sofa, followed Eve out of the room.
“What’s your take? Just a quick thumbnail of reactions.”
“Is it homicide?”
“I can’t tell you. Really can’t. It has earmarks of an accident—or. So until that’s determined, we’ll proceed as if it’s or. What’s your take?”
“Individually and as a group, they’re upset, nervous. Connie’s managed to hold on to her role as hostess. Roundtree had her, and everyone else, half convinced Harris had just passed out like Julian. The producer and the publicist huddled together awhile. He wasn’t happy—well, several weren’t—when McNab confiscated all ’links. But no one caused any trouble. Matthew and Marlo were the most shaken, but as they found her, that’s to be expected.”
“Maybe you could sit in on the interviews, at least for now.”
“If you think I can help.”
“It’s a weird, fucked-up situation. You’re a shrink. That’s your area. Weird and fucked up, right?”
The tension on Mira’s face dissolved with her laugh. “I suppose it is.”
SHE STARTED WITH MATTHEW AT THE DINING room table where they’d all shared a meal. A low centerpiece of white lilies and short candles replaced the food and dishes, and a gray T-shirt and sweatpants replaced Matthew’s suit.
“Connie gave me a change of clothes. They have a home gym and she keeps some workout gear for guests. McNab said it was okay if I changed. My clothes were wet. Marlo’s, too. Wet. She changed, too.”
“No problem. I want to record this, and just to cover everything, I’m going to read you your rights.”
“Been a while.”
“Sorry?”
“I got arrested for drunk and disorderly and underage drinking when I was seventeen. One of those ‘the parents are away so let’s party’ deals at a friend’s. Too loud, too stupid, and I mouthed off to the cop. A thousand-dollar fine, alcohol school, and three months’ community service. I got grounded for three months on top of it.
“Sorry,” he added and scrubbed the heels of his hands over his face. “That doesn’t mean a damn, does it? I’ve never seen anyone dead before. I’ve been dead, killed people, held my dying sister in my arms—on-screen. So you think you’ve got it, but you don’t. No matter how good they are with the makeup, the lighting, the angles, it’s not the same.”
His breath hitched in and out. “She was so white. And her eyes …”
“Would you like some water, Matthew? Some tea?”
He looked at Mira with such gratitude. “Can I get tea? Is that okay?”
At Eve’s nod, Mira rose again. “I’ll see to it.”
“I can’t seem to get warm. The water was a little cold, I guess. And the … Sorry,” he said to Eve again.
“Have you got something to be sorry for?”
“I’m not handling this very well. I thought I was good in a crisis, but I’m not handling it.”
“You’re okay.” She set up the recorder, read off the Revised Miranda. “You got that, Matthew? You understand your rights and obligations?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What were you and Marlo doing on the roof?”
“We went up for some air, to hang for a few minutes.”
“And what happened?”
“Her feet hurt. Marlo. She said her feet hurt, so I said she should take her shoes off, stick her feet in the pool. We were going to just sit on the edge of the pool awhile. We were laughing about the gag reel when we walked into the dome. We didn’t even notice her for a minute. Seconds, I guess, it was just a few seconds.”