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“Sure, a few times. To help me relax after a tough day. The tea and incense, and a shoulder massage.” Tears shimmered. “He could be so sweet that way when he wanted to.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Eve saw Trina set her teeth, turn away—and saw Peabody give her arm a rub.
“Let me ask you, Sima, and I need you to be square with me. When he made the tea, lit the incense, did you have sex with him?”
“Well . . . I guess.” She frowned a little, flushed a little. “Yeah, I guess. I’d get relaxed, you know.”
“After a hard day,” Eve continued. “So you maybe weren’t feeling much like having sex . . . until you got relaxed.”
“Sometimes you’re on your feet for like eight hours, hardly a break. It just can go that way, and that’s good because it means people ask for you especially. But when you get home, maybe you just want to sit down, watch some screen, maybe go to bed—to sleep I mean—a little early.”
“Sure, I know how it goes.”
“Everybody does, right? Well, mostly. Trey, I swear, he could want to do it twice a day every day.”
“So you maybe just wanted to kick back, watch some screen, and he wanted sex.”
“He wasn’t pushy about it. If I told him I was really tired or whatever, he was okay with it.”
“He’d make you some tea, to relax you.”
“Yeah. And it did, and I’d start getting in the mood after all.”
“Sima, I’ve taken a statement from one of his clients, one who wasn’t in the mood, either, until he made her tea.” Eve waited a moment to let it sink in—saw it didn’t. “It’s pretty clear there are going to be more.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We’re taking the tea into the lab for testing, and I believe they’ll find some form of date-rape drug in the mix.”
“No, no, he wouldn’t do that. Holy God! You’re wrong. Trina.”
“You think about it, Sim. Think,” Trina insisted. “Did he ever make you the damn tea when you already wanted to have sex, or after you had sex? Or in the morning before you both left for work, or any goddamn time you didn’t have sex after drinking it?”
“I . . . He . . .” Her eyes filled. “No. But—why would he do that? Why would he do that to me? He didn’t have to do that to me. I mean sometimes you just want to sleep or just cuddle. Don’t you?”
“Sure you do, honey. Sure.” Trina went over, hugged Sima close. “It’s not on you, and don’t you think that. It’s not on you, and it’s not about sex.”
“But—”
“It’s about him wanting to make you do something you didn’t want to, so he could feel like a big man. Anybody who does that is small.”
“I cared about him. I thought he cared about me.”
“He never cared about anybody but himself.” Over Sima’s head, Trina’s eyes met Eve’s fiercely. “And that’s not on you, either.”
• • •
Run the names Trina gave us,” Eve said as they started back to the car.
“On it. It really flattened her.” Peabody pulled out her PPC to begin the runs when she got into the car. “Imagine it. Imagine finding out someone you thought cared about you, someone you lived with, slept with, slipped you a sex drug. If he did. We’re not a hundred percent sure.
”
“I’m sure enough. Profile it, Peabody. Everything we know about the vic. Is he the kind of guy who makes tea for his girlfriend when she’s too tired for sex?”
“Probably not, no.”
“And then, coincidentally, once she drinks the tea, she’s, bang, in the mood to do it after all? If that’s straight tea, I’ll eat the leaves dry.”
