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“Oh, that sounded wrong.” She rubbed her damp face with the heels of her hands. “Adrianne believes in being prepared. You might be a client one day. So we keep files—articles and basic data. She admired you. She believed, strongly, in women leaving a deep mark doing what they were meant to do. And as soon as I saw you, I knew why she wasn’t home, why she didn’t answer her ’link. She’s my best friend in the world, and I knew you were here to tell me she was dead.”
Wallace wiped another tear away, blinked the rest back. “You’ll find who did this to her. She’d have expected that from you. I’ll take you through to the offices.”
As they rose, the buzzer sounded.
“Will you excuse me a minute?”
As Wallace went to the door, Eve angled herself to keep it in view. She watched Roarke step in, take Wallace’s hands. He kept his voice low, so all she heard was the comfort in the tone.
When she turned back, Eve saw the tears had won again.
“I’ll take you both over. I’ll get a printout of the e-mails you wanted.”
“It would be helpful if you’d get me a list of anyone who knew Ms. Jonas was going to the park, and when.” Busywork, Eve thought, but it would give the woman something to do.
“All right.” She walked them back through the foyer and through already open doors to another large unit.
Another living space designed to Eve’s eye to keep clients comfortable. Stylish, sunny built-ins that likely housed entertainment and refreshment equipment.
Later, Eve decided, she’d need to go through the rest of the space, the more personal spaces.
“Can you tell me if she had trouble with anyone? A client who was unhappy or dissatisfied? A personal problem with anyone?”
“She never left a client unhappy. She’d find a way, and if it wasn’t exactly what they were after, she had a talent for making them think it was, or that it was better than they’d expected. On a personal level, she kept things casual. She wasn’t ready, she said, for a serious relationship. I honestly don’t know of anyone who’d do this to her. People liked her—it was part of her success. Giving people what they wanted, and being likable.
She stepped out into another, smaller living space, then turned into an office. It reminded Eve of Mira’s. Not in the decor, she realized, but in that it struck her as feminine, pretty, and efficient all at once.
“I can put those e-mails on disc for you, unless you’d prefer a hard copy.”
“Both wouldn’t hurt.”
“All right.” She sat, engaged the computer. When she’d finished, she handed Eve a thin paper file, and a disc in a case.
“I’d like to scan some of the other correspondence, some of the files.”
“I feel like I have to say this business runs on privacy and discretion. But I’m not in the mood to care about that right now. And I know Adrianne would be pissed off by what happened—that sounded stupid.”
“No, it didn’t. It sounded accurate.”
Wallace managed a weak laugh. “She’d also want you to have whatever tools you needed to do your job. I’d like you to tell me if you make copies or transfer any files.”
“No problem.”
“If you don’t need me to stay, I could really use a few minutes.”
“Go ahead. Ms. Wallace?” Eve added as she started out. “It strikes me Ms. Jonas had good judgment in friends.”
“That was a kind thing to say,” Roarke murmured.
“I’m not feeling very kind. Adrianne isn’t the only one pissed off right now. I told you I could handle this.”
“Do I interpret that as you’re pissed off at me?”
“Not especially.” Eve sighed. “A little, but mostly because you’re here and I could punch you if I needed to.”
“If I hadn’t come, you wouldn’t be pissed off at me, but then I wouldn’t be here to punch.”
“Don’t try to logic me right now. They had a really big night, splashy party, with their private entertainment on the side. Figured on using that party, and each other, for alibis—with the bonus of having a lure for Jonas. One slips out, skewers the chef, then later, the other slips out, hangs the facilitator. And they cover each other.
