J. Robb - Delusion in Death

“Which is where you might be able to help,” Eve told him. “We’ve been able to eliminate some of the victims, through background checks, interviews. We’re taking a close look at survivors of the attacks.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Yes, that makes sense. Whoever the leader sent in would have the best chance of surviving—knowing what’s coming, being able to take some sort of defense against it.”

“Exactly. It helps we don’t have to spell everything out for you.”

“Just common sense again,” he said to Eve.

“Now the lab has been able to identify the most probable source, and we’ve reconstructed the attack—again the most probable scenario given the data.”

“A reconstruction? It may jog something if I could see it.”

You’d love it , Eve thought. “Let’s hope we don’t have to go there, Lew. Even computer-generated, it’s gruesome.” She opened a file. “This woman.” She tapped her finger on CiCi Way’s photo. “Do you recognize her?”

“She looks familiar.” He knitted his brows.

“She’s one of the survivors.”

He took the photo, studied it carefully. “Yes. Yes, I remember her. She was with the woman you asked us about yesterday evening. Sitting at a table with two men.”

“If you could think back carefully,” Mira urged him. “Try to visualize the bar, your position, the movements, this woman.”

“I had my back to the room the majority of the time.”

“There was a mirror behind the bar,” Eve reminded him.

“And we tend to see things that don’t really register at the time, but we can bring back.” Mira leaned forward. “I’m trained in hypnotherapy. If you’ll allow me, I might be able to help you remember.”

“Just give me a minute to think, to visualize.” When he closed his eyes, Eve exchanged a quick glance with Mira.

“I can see her at the table,” Callaway said slowly. “She and the other three. A lot of laughter, drinking, eating. But she … I see her looking around, and checking the time. Yes, she’s tracking the room, shifting in her chair.”

“As if she were nervous?” Mira asked.

“It strikes me that way. I didn’t pay attention at the time. Or I might’ve thought she was nervous to be on a kind of blind date.”

“Why do you think she was on a blind date?” Eve asked.

His eyes opened, stared into hers for a moment. “I must’ve heard her say. I honestly don’t—wait, yes, wait. She and the other woman got up. I think they must’ve gone down to the restroom. I can’t be sure, but they left the table, passed right by us at the bar. In fact, I was standing up by then, starting to leave. She bumped into me. Didn’t even apologize. I think she said something to the other woman about it being a blind date.”

“So, this woman didn’t actually know the man she was with.”

“I don’t believe so. But I had the sense the two women were friends. Good God, how could she do that to her friend, to someone who trusted her?”

“Trust is often a weapon,” Eve said. “But we’re not absolutely certain CiCi Way was a source.”

“You believe she was.” He shook his head as he studied her picture again. “She’s young. The young are often impressionable, easily swayed. Easily used.”

“Did you see them come back?”

“I was getting ready to leave, as I said, but Joe stalled me for a few minutes.” He lifted his face to the ceiling, eyes half shut. “I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in nearly a week. I was exhausted. Joe wanted me to stay. His wife was away with the kids, and he wasn’t in the mood to go home to an empty house. But I wanted to get home, just crash for the night. I’d gotten up, yes, that’s right. I was standing, telling Joe I’d see him in the morning, when they came back. Passed the bar again. They had to walk right by to get to their table.”

He lowered his face, widened his eyes at Eve. “She wasn’t watching where she was going.”

“No?”

“It was still crowded, and she was looking around again. She shoved at me. Shoved me out of her way as she went by as if she was in a hurry, and she said something rude. Something like, ‘Move your ass.’ I’d forgotten all about that. I’ve been so wrapped up in what happened to Joe, I’d forgotten about that. I walked to the door as they walked to the table. I know I looked back, she’d been so rude—and she … she took something out of her pocket as she sat down. She reached in her pocket.

“She’s the one.” He laid his hand over the face in the photo. “She has to be the one.”

As he spoke, the door opened and Teasdale walked in. She hesitated as she spotted Callaway, then sent Eve a hard stare. “Lieutenant, I need to speak with you a moment. Privately.”

“We may just have caught a break,” Eve began.

“I prefer not to have this discussion in front of a civilian.”

Eve surged to her feet, stomped out.

“Looks like a power struggle,” Callaway said.

“You could say so.” Peabody looked up from her computer. “While they’re at it, let’s go over those details again.”

“I’ve had the parents taken to a safe house. I persuaded them to tell me about a couple incidents in Callaway’s childhood.”

“Feel free to use them,” Eve told her, “if a door opens. But don’t screw up my timing or the rhythm. We’re working him. He thinks he owns the room. I led him to one of the survivors, tailoring her into the source. He took the bait and ran with it.”

“Once you take the bait, you’re hooked. Running becomes problematic.”

“Whatever, he’s adding a lot of details. Too many details.”

“Pride and pleasure cause people to elaborate as much as guilt.”

“I’m going to push him on Jeni Curve next. The conflict between you and me gives him the illusion of power. He’s going to pride and pleasure himself right into a cage. So.” Eve hooked her thumbs in her belt loops. “I think you’re a pushy federal shill wrapped in red tape.”

Teasdale picked a minute piece of lint from her lapel. “I see you as an incompetent, overly aggressive city employee.”

“That should do it.” Eve opened the door. “It’s still my case.”

“Not for long. I beg your pardon, Mr. Callaway, but I have strong objections to involving a civilian in this highly sensitive investigation, particularly one with connections to several of the victims.”

“That connection’s given us CiCi Way, and an angle to push, Agent Teasdale,” Eve reminded her. “You and the HSO are secondary investigators in this matter. You’re basically a consultant yourself until I hear different.”

Deliberately she turned her back on Teasdale, faced Callaway. “I’d like to move on to the second location.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“But you’re familiar with the café, know several of those who were killed or injured. Let’s try the visualization again.”

“For God’s sake,” Teasdale muttered.

“Look, Agent, we might get the same line on Curve with this.”

“Jeni?” Shock registered on Callaway’s face. “You don’t seriously suspect Jeni.”

“I don’t want to influence your memories here. Let’s just focus on yesterday. You stayed in for lunch?”

“Actually, I wanted some air, some head-clearing time, so I went out.”

“Do you remember what time you left the office? The building? If not, we can check logs and discs.”

“I think it was around twelve-fifteen. Near that time. I grabbed a pita—veggie and cheese, and a ginger ale from a cart about a block from the office. I’m not sure he’d remember me. He was busy.”

“Where did you go, what did you see? Take your time,” Eve encouraged. “Try to see it again.”