Kindred in Death Read online

  “What did you talk about?”

  “All kinds of shit. School, music, vids, e-bits. She’s not much into the e-scene, but she liked to hear me talk about it. We’ve known each other forever. Grandpa knew her dad, and she was looking hard at Columbia for next year. We talked about that since I’ve done two semesters.”

  “Did she talk about her boyfriend?”

  “What boyfriend?” His eyes went on alert. “She wasn’t tuned into anybody I knew about. She wasn’t hooked up. She got all spazmotic when it came to guys, hardly ever did the one-on-one.”

  “One-on-one?”

  “Dating, you know? She didn’t think she was pretty, but she was. And she said she couldn’t think of what to say or how to say it. Mom said how she was just self-conscious and shy, and she’d grow out of it. Now she won’t.” Bitterness coated the words. “What happened to her, Dallas?”

  “Her parents were away for the weekend.” Eve kept her tone brisk and neutral. “Sometime yesterday, she let someone into the house. It appears she expected him, and given what we know of her at this point, we conclude she knew him and trusted him.”

  He’d get the details soon enough, Eve knew. Better to hear them now, and from her. “He restrained her. He raped her. He killed her.”

  His gaze didn’t waver from hers. Fury snapped into it as he got to his feet, then his eyes went cold. Yeah, he’d be a good cop, she decided.

  “She was harmless. I want to say she was the kind of person who’d go out of her way not to hurt anyone. But she was strong and fast, and smart. She knew self-defense. She took me down a few times when we practiced. He wouldn’t have been able to restrain her without a fight. You’ve got to have some trace.”

  “It may be he slipped her a drug to incapacitate her so he was able to restrain her and prevent her from causing him any harm. She fought, Jamie, and hard, but it was too late.”

  “If she let someone in, she knew him. You’re right there. We haven’t been as tight since I started college, so I don’t know everyone she might have . . .”

  “What?”

  “When we peeled off from the group, were hanging out over pizza, she asked me what college guys looked at in a girl. I made some crack like the same thing every guy looks for. But she wanted to know, like, if it was looks or common ground, and if we all really expected sex. We could talk like that because we didn’t have that kind of thing.”

  He eased back down on the arm of the chair. “I think I said it wasn’t expected, it was hoped for. Pretty much always. But I didn’t score with every girl I went out with. I said how she could worry about college guys when she was a college girl. She smiled. I didn’t think anything of it, the way she smiled and bounced off topic. She wasn’t just talking about guys. There was a guy. Son of a bitch.”

  “Who would she have told about him?”

  “Jo, if anybody. Jo Jennings. BGPFAE.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Ah, best girl pals forever and ever. They’ve been hooked since grade school. But Deena could keep things tight when she wanted or needed. Plus, she’d rather listen than talk. She didn’t like to stand out, got wizzy if people paid too much attention to her.”

  “All right. We’re going to be talking to Jo Jennings.”

  “What about the security?” Jamie demanded. “She wouldn’t have turned off the cams, not even for someone she knew. House rule, h and f—hard and fast. Cams on and activated twenty-four/seven.”

  “It appears the killer deactivated them, and removed the record discs.”

  “Then he’d have to access the control room, and it’s passcoded. He had to know how. He had to know . . .” Already pale, his face seemed to whiten to bone. “He planned it, right along. He scoped her. Did he jam them first?”

  “We haven’t gotten that far.”

  “Even if he figured how to delete the hard drive, took the disc—and he’d have to have some skills on the e-side for the delete, he’d be on there. He’d still be on there in shadows and echoes. You have the captain on this? You have Feeney?”

  “He should be there now, with a team.”

  “I want in. Dallas, you have to let me in.”

  “I don’t have to do anything,” she said coolly. “Captain Feeney will have autonomy on e-details.”

  He got to his feet again, every line in his body tensed. “You won’t block me.”

  “Is that a question or a statement?”

  He remembered himself—and her. “A request.”

  “As I said, e-detail is under Feeney’s province. The work’s harder when it’s someone you care about. You already know that.”

  His throat worked as he nodded. “When Alice was murdered, Deena was a rock for me. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, but she just kept being there until I had to. I’m going to be there for her now. I can handle it. In three years when I’m finished college, I’m joining the force. College first, that’s the deal I made, but then I’m going for the badge. I can handle it.”

  “Deal with who?”

  “With Roarke, since he’s picking up the freight the scholarship doesn’t cover. And you didn’t know that.” The faintest smile came back to his eyes. “I guess he knows how to keep things tight, too.”

  “Apparently. If Feeney gives you the nod, I’ve got no problem with it. I’m sorry you lost your friend, Jamie.”

  “Do her parents know?”

  “They found her this morning.”

  He sighed. “I’d like to go over. Not just for the work, but I may be able to help them.”

  “They’re with the Whitneys.”

  He nodded. “I’m going to go over anyway, speak to the captain. Ask him to let me in.”

  “Clean up first. Even e-geeks should have some standards.”

  “McNab will be there.” Peabody spoke for the first time, then rose. She crossed to Jamie, hugged him. “You could toss some stuff in a bag, and hang out at our place if you don’t want to be alone here.”

  “Maybe. Thanks.” He sighed again. “Yeah, maybe.”

  And when he laid his head on Peabody’s shoulder Eve saw there was still a boy in there. “I went to a party last night. Maybe if I’d asked her to go. Maybe—”

  “You couldn’t have changed anything.” Peabody drew him back. “We go from here.”

  He nodded. “From here.”

  He’s going to be thinking of his sister, too,” Peabody commented when they were back in the vehicle. “He won’t be able to help it. Most people get through their lives without violent death touching it. He’s eighteen, and dealt with it three times.”

  “Working with EDD might help him deal. If you had a secret guy, would you keep him secret?”

  “I had such crap luck with guys for such a long stretch a serious date would have been cause for taking out an airtram ad. But Jamie’s right—at least it jibes with my sense—she could keep things tight.”

  Eve pulled up at the next address—a well-maintained multi-family building. “She was only sixteen, and going by our current theory very likely infatuated with an older boy. Jaime said she asked about college guys. She had to tell someone something. I vote for the BGPFAE.”

  The Jennings’s apartment took up the corner on the third and fourth floor. The woman who answered the door appeared to be harassed. The root might have been, Eve concluded, the shouted argument in full swing. Furious voices—a girl, a boy—blasted down the stairs.

  “Yes. What is it?”

  “Mrs. Jennings?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD, and Detective Peabody.”

  “God, are the neighbors complaining?” She held out her hands, wrists together. “Will you arrest me if I just go up and bash their heads together? Please, please do. I could use the quiet.”

  “May we come in?”

  The woman gave the badges the briefest of glances. “Yes, yes. I don’t even know what they’re fighting about now. They’ve been at each other most of the morning about one thing or the other. Pe
ace Day, my ass,” she said with weary bitterness. “Their father’s golfing. Bastard,” she added with the smallest hint of a smile. “Maybe you could just arrest them, then I could have five minutes of peace!”

  She shouted the last word, aiming for the stairs. It didn’t make a dent in the noise.

  “Mrs. Jennings we’re not here about a complaint.” Why didn’t she tell them to shut the hell up? Eve wondered. “We’re Homicide.”

  “I haven’t killed anyone. Yet. Was there an incident in the building?”

  “No, ma’am. We’re here about Deena MacMasters?”

  “Deena? Why would you . . . Deena?”

  Eve watched it sink in, but pushed through. “She was killed early this morning. We understand she and your daughter, Jo, were friends.”

  “Deena?” she repeated, backing up. “But how?” She reached up as if to push at her hair. It was already pulled back in a tail, and her fingers stayed at her temple. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “We understand this is a shock, Mrs. Jennings,” Peabody said. “If we could have a few minutes with Jo, it might help us.”

  “Jo. Jo doesn’t know anything. Jo’s been home all morning, fighting with her brother. She doesn’t know anything.”

  “She’s not in any trouble,” Peabody assured her. “We’re talking with all of Deena’s friends. It’s routine. You knew Deena for some time?”

  “Yes. Yes. They’ve been best friends since they were eight. She’s—they—oh God. My God. What happened?”

  “If we could speak with Jo,” Eve interrupted. “You’re free to remain in the room.”

  “All right. Yes. All right.” She walked to the base of the stairs, gripped the banister until her knuckles went white. “Jo! Jo! I need you down here. Right now. Do I tell her? Should I—”

  “We’ll tell her.” Eve heard the clump that translated into resentful feet, then a girl with an explosion of brown curls and violently angry brown eyes appeared. She wore knee-length black shorts and, in a fashion that baffled Eve, had layered a trio of tanks so the blue peeked out from the red, and black peeked out from the blue.

  “Why is it always me?” Jo demanded. “He started it. He won’t . . .” She trailed off, flushing deeply when she spotted Eve and Peabody. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”

  “Jo, baby—”

  “I’m Lieutenant Dallas. This is my partner, Detective Peabody.”

  “Police? Are you going to haul that freak off?”

  “You’re the freak.” A boy, curly brown hair shagging in the current style, eyes just as violent as his sister’s, snarled as he stormed down the steps.

  “Stop! Both of you! Now!”

  At last, Eve thought. Obviously stunned by the tone and the order, both kids stopped and stared at their mother as they might a two-headed alien.

  Eve stepped up, pointed to a chair. “Sit.”

  “Am I in trouble? I haven’t done anything. I swear.”

  “Freak,” the boy muttered under his breath, then visibly shrunk under Eve’s frigid stare.

  Eve turned back to Jo. “I’m sorry to inform you that Deena MacMasters was killed this morning.”

  “Huh?” It was knee-jerk disbelief. “What?” And the tears welled and spilled instantly. “Mom? Mom? What is she saying?”

  Though Eve preferred to leave weepers to Peabody, she sat across from Jo, kept their faces level as the mother squeezed into the chair to put her arms around her daughter.

  “Someone killed her. Someone she knew. A boy she’s been seeing secretly. What’s his name?”

  “She is not dead. We went shopping on Saturday with Hilly. Why are you saying that?”

  The brother moved to her other side, all anger forgotten.

  “She let someone into the house while her parents were away. Who was she dating?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Lying doesn’t help her now.”

  “Lieutenant, please. Can’t you see how upset she is? We all are.”

  “Her parents are upset, too. They came home and found their daughter dead. Who was she seeing, Jo? What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know. Mom. Mom. Make her go away.” She turned her face, pressing it to her mother’s breast. “Make it go away.”

  “It can’t go away.” Eve said it coldly, before Mrs. Jennings could speak. “It happened. Were you her friend?”

  “Yes. Yes.”

  “I’ll get her some water,” Peabody murmured, and turned away to find the kitchen.

  “Tell me everything you know. It’s the only way to help her now. If you’re her friend, you want to help her.”

  “But I don’t know. I really don’t. I never met him, or even saw him. She just called him David. She said his name was David, and he was wonderful. They met in the park a few weeks ago. She ran there a couple times a week. More sometimes.”

  “Okay. How did they meet?”

  “She liked to run, and this one day he was on the same path, and he tripped. He went down pretty hard, so she stopped to see if he was okay. He was all embarrassed, and he’d banged his knee a little, turned his ankle, you know? And he told her he was fine, not to stop, but when he tried to get up, his water bottle was broken and spilled all over, and he was more embarrassed because it got her shoes wet. They went over to sit on the grass, started talking a little, so she could make him feel better. And he was really cute.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “I don’t really know. She just said he was really cute. Adorable squared, and he was from Georgia and had an accent that just made her go wizzy. He was clumsy and really sweet and courteous. Old-fashioned. She really liked that about him.”

  Peabody brought in a glass of water. Jo stared at it. “Thank you. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.”

  “Why did she keep him a secret?” Peabody asked gently.

  “It was romantic. She didn’t even tell me until, like, last month, and only because she said she’d burst if she couldn’t talk about him. And . . . well, she knew her parents would ask questions, and he told her he’d gotten in some trouble back home in Georgia when he’d been in high school. With illegals. Her father wouldn’t have liked it, even though he told her straight out, and he’d done his rehab and community service and everything. She wanted some more time before she said anything about him.”

  “But you never met him either,” Eve pointed out.

  “He was shy, and he said—I think—how he liked it just being the two of them for a while. They didn’t do anything. Honest, Mom, they didn’t . . . you know.”

  “It’s all right, sweetie. It’s all right, Jo.”

  “They just met in the park sometimes, or went for walks or rides on his board, and they went to see a couple vids and talked on the ’link a lot. It was weeks before he even kissed her. And he was nineteen. She was afraid her parents wouldn’t like that he was older.”

  “Did they have a date last night?”

  Jo nodded, miserably. “She was going to have him over, just to eat and hang out a while because he was going to take her to a show. She liked going to the theater, and he got tickets to Coast to Coast. It’s why we went shopping, especially. She wanted a new outfit. She bought this really mag purple skirt—it’s her favorite color, and new shoes to go with it. She was really excited.”

  Eve thought of the shoes near the table by the stairs, the purple skirt rucked up on the bruised thighs.

  “She went out yesterday afternoon for a mani and pedi.” Eyes streaming, she burrowed into her mother. “She tagged me to see if I could meet her, but we had to have dinner at Gram’s and Poppa’s. She wanted it to be special. She was so happy. He wouldn’t have hurt her. He was nice. There has to be a mistake.”

  “Who else did she tell about him?”

  “Nobody. She wasn’t supposed to tell me, they’d made a promise to each other to keep it just the two of them, at least for a while. But she couldn’t, she was so happy she just wanted to talk to me, to t
ell me. I had to swear absolutely not to tell, not even Hilly or Libby. And I didn’t. I didn’t tell. He was so mag, she had to tell somebody. And we’re best friends. There has to be a mistake,” Jo insisted. “Please? There has to be a mistake.”

  There’d been one, Eve thought as they walked back to the car. And young Deena had made it. David from Georgia—and what bullshit that was—had played her right from the first meeting in the park. Shy, clumsy, sweet—with just that one shadow in his past. Irresistible to a girl like Deena.

  He’d created the boy of her dreams.

  But why?

  4

  “WAS SHE A TARGET BEFORE HE SAW HER RUNNING in the park habitually, then set up the play,” Peabody wondered, “or before even that? I mean, specifically Deena MacMasters rather than just a teenage girl, maybe one with certain physical characteristics?”

  “It’s a good question.”

  “It seems like, if it was luck of the draw, he’d have backed off when he found out her father was a cop. Easier prey out there.”

  “Which may have been part of her appeal to him,” Eve said. “She’d make a challenge. He knew enough about her at the setup meeting. He’d already done or at least started research on her. He knew her father was a cop when he staged the meet—cute. Knew her tastes. Shy boy, awkward boy, gentle boy.”

  “Specifically her then.” Peabody frowned. “So why was it a good question?”

  “Because we can’t rule out the other option. I’m going to drop you off at the next pal’s, leave that one to you. I think Jo was being straight when she said nobody else knew about this guy—but we’ll cross the Ts. When you finish interviewing the friends, head down to Central. I’ll book a conference room. I want EDD to come in with a prelim report asap.

  “They went for walks,” Eve murmured, thinking of what Jo had said. “You can bet he didn’t walk with her in her own neighborhood. Nowhere they’d be likely to run into someone who knew her. To vids, where it’s dark. Keep it all a secret. It’s more romantic, and I’m ashamed of my minor transgression. I’m shy. A few weeks, Jo said. A long time to play out the string. Patient bastard.”