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"Could be it’s telling you that you had a paranormal experience last night."
Eve spared one bland look for Peabody. "Paranormal my ass."
"Cases have been documented, Dallas."
"Fruitcakes have been documented, too. It’s going to be a family member. That’s where we push. That and whatever Hopkins may or may not have had in his possession that his killer wanted. Start with the family members. Let’s eliminate any with solid alibis. We’ll fan out from there."
She glanced at her desk as her ‘link beeped - again - and, scanning the readout, sneered. "Another reporter. We’re not feeding the hounds on this one until so ordered. Screen all your incomings. If you get cornered, straight no comment, investigation is active and ongoing. Period."
"Got that. Dallas, what was it like last night? Skin-crawly or wow?"
Eve started to snap, then blew out a breath. "Skin-crawly, then annoying that some jerk had played with me and made my skin crawl for a minute."
"But kind of frigid, too, right? Ghost of Bobbie Bray serenading you."
"If I believed it was the ghost of anyone, I’d say it was feeling more pissy than entertaining. What someone wants us to think is we’re not welcome at Number Twelve. Trying to scare us off. I’ve got Feeney’s notes on the report from EDD. He says a couple of his boys heard singing. Another swears he felt something pat his ass. Same sort of deal from the sweepers. Mass hysteria."
"Digging in, I found out two of the previous owners tried exorcisms. Hired priests, psychics, parapsychologists, that kind of deal. Nothing worked."
"Gee, mumbo didn’t get rid of the jumbo? Why doesn’t that surprise me? Get on the ‘link, start checking alibis."
Eve took her share, eliminated two, and ended up tagging Serenity Massey’s daughter in the woman’s Scottsdale home.
"It’s not even seven in the morning."
"I’m sorry, Ms. Sawyer."
"Not even seven," the woman said testily, "and I’ve already had three calls from reporters, and another from the head nurse at my mother’s care center. Do you know a reporter tried to get to her? She has severe dementia - can barely remember me when I go see her - and some idiot reporter tries to get through to interview her over Bobbie Bray. My mother didn’t even know her."
"Does your mother know she was Bobbie Bray’s daughter?"
The woman’s thin, tired face went blank. But it was there in her eyes, clear as glass. "What did you say?"
"She knows, then - certainly you do."
"I’m not going to have my mother harassed, not by reporters, not by the police."
"I don’t intend to harass your mother. Why don’t you tell me when and how she found out she was Bobbie’s daughter, not her sister."
"I don’t know." Ms. Sawyer rubbed her hands over her face. "She hasn’t been well for a long time, a very long time. Even when I was a child…" She dropped her hands now and looked more than tired. She looked ill. "Lieutenant, is this necessary?"
"I’ve got two murders. Both of them relatives of yours. You tell me."
"I don’t t
hink of the Hopkins family as relatives. Why would I? I’m sorry that man was killed because it’s dredged all this up. I’ve been careful to separate myself and my own family from the Bobbie phenomenon. Check, why don’t you? I’ve never given an interview, never agreed to one or sought one out."
"Why? It’s a rich pool, from what 1 can tell."
"Because I wanted normal. I’m entitled to it, and so are my kids. My mother was always frail. Delicate, mind and body. I’m not, and I’ve made damn sure to keep me and mine out of that whirlpool. If it leaks out that I’m Bobbie’s granddaughter instead of a grandniece, they’ll hound me."
"I can’t promise to keep it quiet, I can only promise you that I won’t be giving interviews on that area of the investigation. I won’t give out your name or the names of your family members."
"Good for you," Sawyer said dully. "They’re already out."
"Then it won’t hurt you to answer some questions. How did your mother find out about her parentage?"
"She told me - my brother and me - that she found letters Bobbie had written. Bobbie’s mother kept them. She wrote asking how her baby was doing, called my mother by name. Her Serenity she called her, as if she was a state of mind instead of a child who needed her mother."
