Without waiting, Jessica sat down, tapped the tube of sparkling water on the table. “Coming down here’s put a hitch in my day. I heard the news about Nigel McEnroy, and it’s shocking. But you can’t be talking to everyone who ever worked through Perfect Placement.”
Maybe not so friendly then, Eve thought, and cracked the tube Peabody handed her. “Not everyone, no. Just those we believe may have reason to want McEnroy dead.”
“Why in God’s name would I want him dead? I barely knew the man. I was headhunted by PP, but I worked primarily with Sylvia Brant. I don’t think I met with McEnroy more than three or four times.”
Eve went with the faintest of smirks. “You did a lot more than meet with him last September eighteenth.”
“What?”
“Dinner at La Cuisine ring any bells?”
That drew Jessica’s eyebrows together. Beneath them her eyes, a gold-flecked brown, went momentarily blank. “What? Oh, yes.” The mild annoyance returned. “Of course, last September. I was one of the two candidates up for the position I now hold at Broadmoore. He—McEnroy—he was in New York to weigh in on the placement, and we had a business dinner. A business dinner,” she repeated, and rubbed her left hand up and down her right arm.
“And after the business dinner you went with him to his home.”
“I certainly did not!” Hot color flashed into her cheeks. “Are you actually implying I slept my way to my position? That’s not only a lie, but an insulting one. I’ve worked hard to reach this point in my career, and I don’t sleep around, or use sex for advancement. Add to it, he’s married, has kids. And I was in a serious relationship.”
“What did you do after the business dinner?”
“I … I walked to the corner.” She cracked her own tube with a quick snap. “I walked to the corner, got a cab, went home. I haven’t seen or spoken to Nigel McEnroy since that night. Since … I went home.”
“What’s the last thing you remember before you walked to the corner? Look at me,” Eve demanded. “The last thing.”
“I … I wasn’t feeling well. Nerves, that’s all. The job was a big upgrade for me, so I was nervous. It was months ago.” She snapped it out like she’d snapped the tube. “Why would I remember every detail?”
“You remember nothing,” Eve corrected, but gentled her tone. “You don’t remember, not clearly, even leaving the restaurant. You don’t remember getting in the limo McEnroy had waiting.”
“I didn’t.” But a tremor shivered into her voice. “It would be unprofessional. I took a cab home.”
“After.” Even more gently now. “Because he told you to. Jessica, you were one of many.”
I know what it’s like, Eve thought, to block it out, all of it out to survive. I know what it’s like when it floods back, when the walls break down, and it all lands in your chest like an avalanche.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Eve leaned to Peabody, murmured in her ear, “Get Mira if she’s available, or whoever she recommends as a rape counselor.”
Peabody rose, moved quickly.
“He drugged you.” Eve said it fast, fast was best. “You did nothing unprofessional, nothing wrong. You did nothing because he drugged you, just as he did other women.”
“You’re trying to say he … he gave me a roofie, raped me? No, no, no, I’d remember!” Jessica insisted with the fierceness of desperation. “I would remember. I’d have sued his ass off. I’d have gone to the police. I—”
Eve got up, walked around the table to sit next to her. “He drugged you, so none of it’s clear, and what bits and pieces worked through, you blocked out.”
“You’re saying he recommended me for my position because he raped me?”
“No, no I’m not. You were going to get the position, on your qualifications. One had nothing to do with the other. The bits and pieces, you told yourself they were anxiety, or weird dreams.”
“There’s a room, and the birds—they fly out of the chairs, fly around the room screaming. Someone’s inside me, and I can’t stop it. I don’t want to stop it, but I’m screaming, too.”
She gripped Eve’s hand. “When I heard he was dead, when I heard the report this morning, I … I felt, just for a second, I felt satisfaction. It was horrible. But I don’t remember. You can’t be sure.”
Eve thought about the vid. Not now, she decided. “We’ve talked to other women. He did this to other women. He had a pattern, Jessica. Did you talk to anyone about that night? How you didn’t feel well, how you took a cab home?”
“No, not even Chad. I was ashamed because I thought I must’ve gotten ill at dinner, maybe behaved oddly. I couldn’t remember, and I thought it must’ve been something I ate, or nerves. I told Chad it went great, but I didn’t want to talk about it and jinx it. I lied, the first lie I told him.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, tightly shut.