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“I can go? Just go?” His face underwent rapid changes, from shock to suspicion, from relief to disappointment. “I don’t have to, like, get a lawyer or something?”
“Just stay available, Dingo.”
She had to pick her way through the same minefield of nerves with Liza Blue, who turned out to be hair and enhancement consultant. When her teeth started chattering, Eve heaved a long, long breath.
“Look, Liza, do you have anything to feel guilty about?”
“Well, I cheated on my boyfriend last week.”
“I’m not going to arrest you for that. How long have you worked for Hastings?”
“Um, I freelance, you know. I work for lots of photographers, and do hair and enhancements for weddings and special occasions, like that. He likes my work, so I’ve been doing shoots for about a year.” She looked plaintively at Eve. “Is that right?”
“Who supplies the enhancements?”
“I have my own kit, but Hastings keeps a supply. He’s real fussy. Lots of them are.”
“Does he have any Barrymore products?”
“Sure. That’s good stuff.”
“Have you ever worked on this girl?” Eve asked, handing over the print of Rachel Howard.
Liza pursed her lips. “I don’t think so. I’d use a good strong pink lipdye. If I used Barrymore, like you were asking about, I’d maybe use First Blush or Spring Rose. Bring out the shape of her mouth. She’s got a nice one, but it could pop a little more. And she ought to bring out her eyes some. She looks kind of familiar though. I don’t know where—”
She broke off, and dropped the print as if it had burst into flames. “That’s the one who’s dead. I saw on the news. That’s the girl they found downtown in a recycle bin.”
“Where were you night before last?”
“With my boyfriend.” Her voice quivered. “With Ivan. I felt real bad about cheating on him. I don’t know why I did. I almost told him last night, but I clucked. We went to a vid, then back to his place.”
“Peabody, get her data. You can go on home, Liza.”
“You think maybe Hastings killed her? I don’t want to come back here if you think he killed her.”
“He’s not charged with anything. I just need to ask questions.”
Eve went to the room where Hastings waited. He was sitting, his arms folded over his chest, staring at himself in the dressing room mirror.
“We can do this a couple of ways,” Eve began. “I can take you in, hold you, while I get warrants to search this building, including your private residence upstairs, and your vehicles. Or, you can agree now to allow this search.”
“You’re not going to find a fucking thing.”
“Well then, it shouldn’t worry you to have us look.”
His eyes met hers in the mirror. “So look.”
Chapter 9
She called in a team, and looked.
She found no illegals, which surprised her. She’d have pegged Hastings as the type for a taste of a little recreational Zoner, but his place was clean. None of the tranq used in subduing Rachel Howard turned up in the toss of his apartment, studio, or vehicles.
There were a number of Barrymore enhancements in the studio kit, and she matched the shades and products to those used on Rachel.
Tried to imagine Hastings carefully painting the girls lips, brushing color on her eyelids with those big hands.
There was no chair on the premises that matched the one used in Rachel’s death portrait, but she did find a large spool of wire. The wire and enhancements went into evidence bags, without a peep of protest from Hastings when she gave him a receipt.
