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“You were pretty rough on him in there.”
“Is that an observation or a complaint?”
“An observation. I know you’re going to say I’m an investigative slut, but he’s starting to look good to me. The way you sprang knowledge of the wife’s affair on him, he never recovered from that.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“And pushing the LC angle. The way he fumbled it, denying any association, then breaking down and admitting it to prove to you he was still sexually capable.”
“Yeah, that was stupid of him.”
“You don’t sound too juiced about it.”
“I’m tired. I’m just tired.”
“Maybe you want to take a break before you wrap him up. The lawyer’s got to get here, do the consult. You’ve got an hour anyway if you want to grab a bunk.”
Eve started to speak, started to turn, and Trueheart stepped in. “Excuse me, Lieutenant, but Pepper Franklin is here, wants to see you. I didn’t know if you wanted me to pass her through.”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“Do you want me to sit in?” Peabody asked her when Trueheart left. “Or go baby-sit Breen?”
“Fortney was your pick before you decided to be fickle. Let’s both hear what she has to say.”
She walked to her desk, sat, and swiveled toward the door when Pepper entered. The actress was wearing enormous silver sunshades and bright red lip dye. Her glamorous hair was pulled straight back in a long, sleek tail. The sunny yellow skinsuit was in direct opposition to the murderous expression on her lovely face.
“Get us some coffee, Peabody. Have a seat, Pepper. What can I do for you?”
“You can arrest that lying, cheating son of a bitch Leo, and drop him in the deepest, darkest hole you can find until the flesh rots off his fucking bones.”
“No need to stifle your emotions in here, Pepper. Tell us how you really feel.”
“I’m not in the mood for jokes.” She whipped off the shades and revealed an impressive shiner. It would be more impressive in a few hours, Eve judged, when the blood finished gathering in bruises.
“Bet that hurts.”
“I’m too mad to feel it. I found out he’s been boffing my understudy. My goddamn understudy. And the assistant stage manager. And Christ knows who else. When I confronted him, he denied it, just kept lying, telling me I was imagining things. Have you got any vodka?”
“No, sorry.”
“Probably just as well. I woke up about three this morning. I don’t know why, generally I sleep like I’m in a coma. But I woke up, and he wasn’t there. I was confused, and concerned, so I did a house scan. And damned if it didn’t tell me he was there, in bed. Well, he wasn’t there, in bed. He’d programmed it to say so, I suppose, if I ever got suspicious and ran a replay, the system would verify that he’d never left the house. Bastard!”
“I guess you looked through the place to make sure it wasn’t a glitch, and he was in the kitchen raiding the AutoChef.”
“Of course I did. I was worried.” Bitterness spewed out like acid. “That was my only thought then. I looked all over the house, and I waited, and I thought about calling the police. Then it occurred to me he might have just gone out for a walk, or a drive, or Jesus, I don’t know. And the security system was faulty. I convinced myself, and I actually dozed off in the chair about six. When I woke up a couple hours later, there was a message on the ’link.”
She reached into a handbag the size of Nebraska and pulled out the disc. “Do you mind? I’d like to hear it again.”
“Sure.” Eve took it, slid it into her own ’link, and requested message play. Leo’s voice spilled out.
GOOD MORNING, SLEEPYHEAD! DIDN’T WANT TO WAKE YOU. YOU LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL SNUGGLED UP IN BED. GOT UP EARLY, DECIDED TO HEAD STRAIGHT TO THE HEALTH CLUB, AND ENDED UP HAVING A BREAKFAST MEETING. YOU NEVER KNOW WHO YOU’LL RUN INTO. I’VE GOT A PRETTY FULL SCHEDULE, SO I WON’T BE BACK UNTIL AFTER YOU’VE LEFT TO RECORD THAT PROMO SPOT THIS AFTERNOON. YOU’LL BE GREAT! PROBABLY WON’T SEE YOU UNTIL AFTER THE SHOW TONIGHT. I’LL WAIT UP, ’CAUSE I MISS YOU, BABY DOLL.
“Baby doll, my butt,” Pepper uttered. “He sent the transmission silent, about six-fifteen. He knows I’m never up before seven-thirty, never sleep past eight. He never came home last night, but he was covering himself. I went to his office, but he’d called that bimbo he’s probably been doing and told her he wouldn’t be in all day. She was surprised to see me as apparently he’d told her that I was having some sort of emotional crisis and he needed to stay with me. I’ll show him an emotional crisis.”
She rose, saw there wasn’t room to pace, then dropped down again. “I postponed the promo spot, went home, and went through his office. That’s how I found out he’s been sending flowers and tasteful little gifts to his fucking harem, and I found receipts for hotel rooms, names and dates on his personal calendar. He showed up about three, looking all surprised to see me, all delighted.” Her bruised eye flashed fury. “He’d had a couple of cancellations, and wasn’t this lucky? Why didn’t we go upstairs to bed, and get lucky again.”
“I’m assuming you told him his luck had run out.”
