“Angie.” Latisha winced.
“Oh, come on, it’s a fact. We’re all so sorry about Marta. We liked her, and we were looking forward to working with her. What do you need to know?”
“We can get this out of the way if both of you can tell me where you were on the night of the murder, from nine to midnight.”
Angie looked at Latisha. “Don’t you get tired of always being right?”
“No.”
“Tisha said the cops would come, and they’d ask that exact question. I said, They will not. Why? And she said—”
“Connections,” Latisha finished.
“So we talked about it, all of us.”
“To get your stories straight,” Eve said mildly.
“God, that’s just what that sounded like.” Angie let out a choked laugh. “No, just to prepare, especially since the reports said you were in charge, though we still figured you’d just send some other detectives. But I was hoping you’d come because I have this Roarke goal. Professionally,” she added with a smile.
“If it’s in Angie’s head,” Latisha put in, “it generally comes out of her mouth.”
“That’s true. Why hedge? It’s not efficient. And here you are, asking the question. I prepared but it still made my stomach jump.”
“Why don’t I take this?” Latisha suggested. “We were all here—all five of us—until about nine-thirty. We had an after-hours staff meeting, and Clare made Irish stew.”
“She likes to cook,” Angie put in. “Kassy left first. She got married last September and wanted to get home to her honey. Then Holly left to meet this guy she’s been seeing. He was taking her dancing. Nobody takes me dancing. She looked completely iced, didn’t she, Tisha?”
“She did. Angie and Clare left together.”
“We shared a cab. We live in the same building. One of our neighbors was having a party, so we hit that.”
“And I locked up, went home because I currently have no life,” Latisha finished. “I walked. It’s only five blocks.”
“I wish you wouldn’t walk alone at night,” Angie admonished.
“I have a black belt in karate, and I carry Back-Off. I was in bed by eleven. Alone.”
“Your own fault. If you gave Craig another chance, I think—”
“Angie, I don’t think Lieutenant Dallas or Detective Peabody are interested in my lack of sex life at the moment.”
“Everybody’s interested in sex, right?” She grinned at Peabody.
“It’s hard to argue that.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
Peabody blinked. “All right.”
“Was it totally surreal investigating the murder of the woman who plays you in the vid? She sort of looked like you, especially in the publicity shots. It had to be really weird.”
In her curvy chair, Latisha just sighed.
“It was strange, yes.”
“And a total scandal, which just adds delicious juice—don’t roll your eyes, Tisha, it does. I’d kill to go to the New York premiere. I don’t mean literally,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry. I’m actually nervous, and I don’t get nervous. I have no nerves, except now I do. I’ve never been interviewed by the police. And then it’s you, the Icove police. And Roarke’s cop. And God, I’m sorry, but I seriously love your boots,” she said to Peabody.
“Thanks. I do, too.”