Greg Iles - Sleep No More

Waters waited for more details, but Jackson offered none. He swallowed hard.

“That’s right,” he said, as the skin of his face seemed to tighten around his skull. “Is that a problem?”

“Well,” said Jackson, “last time I talked to you, you didn’t seem like a big fan of Ms. Sumner. You went down to her office to give her an earful after she tried to sell your house out from under you. That’s what you said.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I’m sort of confused, John. What were you doing with her at Bienville a few days after that? And not once but twice?”

“She was showing me the house. Simple as that.”

Silence. “You in the market for a new house? You already got a pretty nice one.”

“Bienville has a lot of architectural significance.”

“I don’t know too much about that kind of thing. Is Lily interested in it too?”

A flash of the knife. Tom Jackson was quicker than he liked people to think. “Here’s the thing, Tom. I’ve been thinking about buying it as a surprise for Lily. She thinks it’s too expensive. And it is expensive. But I’ve had a good couple of years, even though the oil business as a whole is in the toilet. And I knew if I just went ahead and did it, she’d love it. You know what I mean?”

“I can’t really say I do, John. That’s thirty years of my salary.”

Jackson had already checked the price of the house. “Well, that’s why I kept quiet about it, anyway. I didn’t want anyone knowing I was looking at the place. You know how this town is. People hear I’m looking for an antebellum home, every realtor in town is calling me, and my wife knows about it by dinnertime.”

“Now that I understand,” Jackson said. “But why’d you pick Eve Sumner to show you the place? She’s not the realtor for the Historic Society.”

Waters thought fast. “To be honest, I felt bad about raising hell at her office. She was nice that day, and I felt guilty later. I figured a commission like that would more than make up for it.”

“I see.” The detective covered his phone and said something unintelligible to someone else. “What did you think about Eve as a person?”

“Very professional.”

“People say she could get a little unprofessional with certain male clients.”

“Cole told me something like that. But she was totally professional with me. I did notice she had the equipment for what you’re talking about, though.”

“That’s the damn truth,” Jackson said in an unguarded moment. “In the right outfit, she was something to see.”

Any outfit, Waters thought, recalling how Eve had looked dancing gloriously naked in the parlor of Bienville.

“John,” Tom said in a quieter voice, “this is you and me, right?”

“Right.”

“Did you tap that stuff out on one of those afternoons? I wouldn’t blame you a bit, if you did. I just need to know.”

“Hell no. I’m married, man.”

“So were a lot of guys who spent time with Eve. That doesn’t seem to stop too many people these days, men or women.”

“You’re right. But it does me.”

More silence. “John, I’m going to ask what I asked you the other day. And I want you to think before you answer, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Did you have any other contact with Eve Sumner that I should know about?”

Waters let some time pass, as if he were thinking. “No,” he said at length. “Nothing I can think of.”

“Okay, then. I appreciate your time.”

“Sure. Still no prime suspect?”

“With this gal, it’s more a process of elimination than a search. You know what I mean?”

“I hear you. Good luck, Tom.”

“Yeah.”

Waters hit the disconnect button with a shaking finger. Then he pulled Penn Cage’s phone number from his memory and punched it into the keypad.

Penn gave Waters a cup of coffee and led him out to the backyard. Today he did not pull weeds from his flower beds. He sat on a wrought-iron bench, crossed his legs, and sipped his coffee.

“If the police were going to call you in for questioning over this,” he said, “Tom wouldn’t have questioned you on the phone.”

Waters paced the grass in front of the bench. “I’m not sure he bought my explanation.”

“He may not have. He may think you were screwing her, in which case he won’t let this drop. But unless they find something else to support this, you’ve probably got at least a few days’ grace. I’ll tell you something else encouraging. They must not have found anything in Eve’s house that incriminates you. If they had, they would already have searched your house and office.”

Waters stopped pacing, relief washing over him like a cool balm.

“So,” Penn said. “You told me you needed to talk about something else. Something disturbing.”

“Yes.” Waters sat on an iron chair opposite Penn and set his coffee mug on the ground. “Lily wasn’t herself last night.”

Penn drew back his head as if he sensed where Waters was going. “What do you mean?”

“I mean in bed. She was totally out of character. She was very aggressive, and she did things she’d never done before.”

Penn shrugged. “Sometimes women do that. Didn’t you tell me that Eve’s death had made Lily more aware of your marital problems?”

“Yes. She said she was going to make an effort.”

“There you go. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“You know women don’t go from sexual dysfunction to supreme confidence overnight. But that wasn’t all. When Lily was in the bathroom before we made love, I walked over to look at her. She couldn’t see me. She was looking into the mirror like she hardly recognized herself. And then she twisted a lock of hair tight around one finger and pulled it out into a curl.”

Penn shook his head. “This is nuts. You think because Mallory twisted her hair, and because you saw Eve do it a few times, that Mallory’s soul is now in your wife?”

“I know you’re not open to-”

“I’ve seen Caitlin twist her hair a hundred times.”

Waters waited a moment before continuing, in the hope that Penn would really listen. “I’m sure you have. It’s a basic human gesture, okay? But in Mallory, it was a precursor to her cutting behavior. It’s called trichotillomania. She pulled it very hard. So did Eve. And now Lily.”

“Even in this fantasy universe of yours where the laws of physics are suspended, how could Mallory’s soul be inside Lily?”

“I told you how Eve said it worked. Through sex. Eve died while we were having sex, Penn. Or soon after. And the next day I was totally disoriented. I had blackouts I remember absolutely nothing about.”

“And that’s exactly what I’d expect from a man who believed he’d just committed murder.”

“That same day, I made love with Lily. She climaxed, and after that I was fine. But then she spent half the next day sleeping, and then started acting like a totally different person.”

Penn got up from the bench and motioned for Waters to follow him along one of the paths through the large garden area formed by his and Caitlin Masters’s yards.

“There’s one other option, John. I hesitated to mention it when we first spoke, but now…”

“This isn’t the time to pull any punches.”

Penn met his eye. “Remember you said that.”

“Tell me.”

“Lily could be involved in this thing. She could have been in it with Cole from the start.”

“What? That’s insane.”

Penn nodded and kept walking. “I’m sure you’re right. I thought I should mention it.”

“Why?”

The lawyer looked almost apologetic. “If you were to be declared incompetent by a court, or sentenced to prison for murder, Cole’s corporate power would be enhanced, but his ability to turn that power into ready cash would be limited.”