“What did you have to drink?”
“Jesus Christ.” Robbins shoved up, threw her hands in the air. “I was doing a workout. I wasn’t drinking. Some tea. Just some herbal tea he made. I iced it, and it was nice enough.”
“Did he light incense?”
“So what?” But Robbins’s eyebrows drew together, and she sat again. “Yes. Right before the massage. The massage that wasn’t a massage because I decided I’d rather have sex. How do you know about the incense, what do you care about the tea?”
Color dropped out of her face. “Jesus, Jesus, did he drug me? Oh God, did he give me something?”
“We believe Ziegler routinely gave at-home clients, potentially others, a date-rape drug in the guise of tea, and accentuated it with incense that was also laced.”
“I see.” She pressed her lips together, looked away. “That explains it. I wasn’t attracted to him that way, simply wasn’t, but that evening . . . I initiated it.” Her voice trembled a little. She picked up her glass again, drank slowly. “I initiated it almost as soon as I was on the massage table.”
“No, you didn’t,” Eve said. “He initiated and took your choice away when he gave you the drug without your knowledge.”
“I don’t know how to feel about this.” She pressed the cold glass to her forehead. “I don’t know how to feel. I was raped when I was sixteen by a boy I thought liked me. He slipped me something, too. Not enough, because I didn’t really drink much, just enough I felt weird and off. Not enough, so I said no. And when I said no, he held me down. He hurt me, and he forced me. And I didn’t tell anyone, I was so ashamed. It was years before I told anyone, and came to terms with it. Now this.”
She closed her eyes again. “Trey didn’t force me. He didn’t hurt me.”
“Yes, he did.” Eve’s flat tone had Robbins opening her eyes again. “He didn’t hold you down or put bruises on you, but he forced you. He raped you.”
“You’re right. You’re right.”
Her eyes filled. Eve watched her wage a fight against them. Win it.
“Now I have to come to terms with it again. I will. Well, back to therapy.” She lifted her glass in toast. “What fun.”
“I can give you a contact for a rape center,” Peabody told her.
“That’s okay. I have a shrink on tap. I don’t have an alibi, and it looks like I had a motive. I didn’t kill him, but I’m sure as hell glad he’s dead. What happens now?”
Eve rose. “We talk to other people in your situation. And if we find out you’re lying and you did kill him, we’ll be back to arrest you.”
“Great. Terrific.” Robbins managed a weak smile. “That’s still a fabulous coat.”
• • •
On the way down to the lobby, Peabody brooded.
“Don’t sulk over it,” Eve ordered. “Spill it.”
“I’m not sulking. I’m considering. Her statement makes it unquestionable our vic used date-rape drugs on numerous women, at least over the last couple months. And it also confirms he extorted money from at least some of them. Either one of those acts equals motive. Combine them, and it becomes a really strong motive. I know she doesn’t have an alibi, but I don’t think she did it.”
“Because you liked her. And because you felt sympathy after her claim she’d been date-raped in the past.”
“Well, yeah. In part anyway. Didn’t you?”
“I didn’t not like her. As for the claim of previous date rape, she also indicated she never reported it. We can’t confirm it ever happened.”
“No, we can’t, and, yeah, it could’ve been a bid for sympathy. But I believed her.” Still brooding, Peabody stepped out of the elevator, crossed the lobby with Eve. “I guess you didn’t.”
“Actually, I did. Going through that humiliation and trauma a second time? Adds to the motive.”
“I didn’t think of it that way.” Peabody glanced up at Robbins’s windows as they walked to the car. “Damn it.”
“We’ve got an asshole, fuckhead, serial date rapist as a vic, Peabody. We’re going to feel sorry for pretty much all the suspects. The women he used, the spouses, boyfriends, fathers, brothers, friends who learned about it. And now we veer off to yet another angle.”