“It’s all right, Anson. It’s the police.”
He walked to the side of the bed, took her hand. “Why don’t I talk to them outside?”
“When they’re done with me.”
“Jeannie said to tell them their time’s about up.”
“And she’s fierce. Soften her up a little, would you? Get us another few minutes.”
“That’s all right,” Eve told them. “We have enough for now. If you think of any more, have any questions we can answer, you can contact either of us.”
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“You need to keep me updated. There are memorials I won’t be able to attend. I need to know what’s happening.”
“We’ll keep you informed.” Eve glanced at Anson. “Why don’t we step out?”
“Let me get you some fresh water,” Peabody offered.
“Thanks. I don’t suppose you could talk Jeannie into some coffee? I’d settle for tea, even the herbal crap, but something that’s not flat water?”
“Let me see what I can do.”
Eve stepped out with Anson. He angled himself out of view of Karson’s bed, pressed his fingers to his eyes. “Anything I can do to help. I thought she was dead. I couldn’t do anything. My friend, one of my closest friends is dead. I watched it happen, and I couldn’t do anything.”
“How long have you been Karson’s admin?”
“Three and a half years. I was her admin’s assistant, and when Marcia retired, I took the position.”
“You knew about the merger from the outset?”
“Yes.”
“How did you feel about it?”
“Willi—Ms. Karson’s got the smartest business brain I know. And she cares, genuinely cares about not just the company but the people who work for her. It’s what makes Econo such a good fit with Quantum. Mr. Pearson had the same qualities, at least from my point of view.”
“Anybody think differently?”
“There were a few doubters, some dissents, but as the deal took shape, that faded off. I don’t understand any of this. I don’t know anyone who would have done this. And anyone, absolutely anyone who works for, who knows Willi, would know she’d push through it. No way she’d let the deal fall apart.
“I don’t like leaving her alone for too long.”
“Just another minute. As her admin, you’d see her correspondence, set up her appointments. Did anything strike you as threatening, even subtly?”
“I can’t think of anything.”
“On a personal level? Someone who might want to harm her?”
“She has an ex, a jerk, but there’s no way. Honestly, just no way. They’re not friendly, but I’d know if he’d ever been violent. He’s more of an opportunistic asshole.”
“Name.”
“Crap, crap. Okay. Jordan Banks. Trust-fund type, swanks around, pretends to work in the art world, but mostly swanks.”
“Don’t like him much?”
“At all, but he wouldn’t do this.”