“So you beat him to death.”
“I protected myself. My reputation. It’s the same as defending my life.”
“K.T. had to go, too. Same reason.”
“I made her. She had no loyalty, no gratitude, no respect. I did what had to be done, and that’s the end of it.”
“Not the end. You set up Julian to take the fall.”
“He’s a fool. Talented, but a fool. And weak. He’d have gone to you eventually. He wouldn’t have been able to stay strong. He’d have ruined himself, and me. He’d be better off dead.”
“So you were doing him a favor.”
Disgust surfaced, smeared his voice. “He couldn’t even die without being told how. I protected myself, my investment, my reputation. One I’ve built for more than half my life. I had every right.”
“No, you didn’t. And that’s the end of it.”
“Power has responsibility and privilege. You married a man who’d know that.”
“I married a man who knows more about real power than you ever will.”
“I have nothing more to say to you. My lawyers will deal with you from now on.”
“Fine with me.” She began putting the evidence bags back in the box she’d brought in. “Be sure to tell those lawyers you’re charged with multiple counts of murder, first and second degrees, and get ready for the media roasting.”
Eve smiled now. “You’re going to be a whole new kind of celebrity now—but your new status won’t get you into the VIP lounge.
“Go ahead and arrange for him to contact his lawyers, Peabody, then put him in a cell for the night and go get your crème brûlée.”
“That’s a big yes, sir.”
Eve walked out, passed the box to the officer waiting to take it back to Evidence. She smiled as Roarke strolled down to meet her.
“I didn’t think he’d actually confess.”
“He couldn’t help himself. All those names, the data, the evidence, came at him too fast. It scared him, and he can’t be scared. And I made him look stupid and weak, another unacceptable condition. Murder makes him feel powerful. He needed to feel powerful.”
“I’d say he’s about to suffer a major power outage.”
“Oh yeah. You know what?” They walked to her office where she retrieved her coat. “We closed two murders, and one attempted, and are well on the way to closing seven other murder cases. And nobody tried to punch me in the face, stab me, stun me, or blow me up. I think it’s a record.”
“It looked dicey for a minute in there.”
She made a pfft sound as they headed out. “He wouldn’t have gotten a shot in. Plus I avoided getting puke or blood on my boots for an entire day.”
“Obviously we need to celebrate.” Roarke trailed a hand down her back as they walked. “Half-drunk sex?”
“Works for me.”
On the way toward home and half-drunk sex, Eve contacted Nadine to give her the rest of the story.
It seemed only fair.
J. D. Robb, Celebrity in Death
(Series: In Death # 34)
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