Visions in Death by J. D. Robb Read Free Book Online Page B

and murdered. Raped and murdered right over in the park."
    "Would she have told you if she was being bothered by anyone, if she was concerned about anything?"
    "Yes." He said it without hesitation. "If not me, certainly she would have told Deann. They were very close. We... We're family." He sat, let his head fall back.
    "Were you and Ms. Maplewood close?"
    "You're asking me if Elisa and I had a sexual relationship. I wondered if you would, and told myself not to be insulted. I'm trying not to be. I don't cheat on my wife, Lieutenant. I certainly wouldn't take advantage of a very vulnerable woman in my employ, a woman I liked very much, a woman who worked very hard to give her child a good life."
    "I don't ask to offend you. Why do you characterize Ms. Maplewood as vulnerable?"
    He pinched the bridge of his nose, dropped his hand. "She was a single parent who had been misused by her husband, who was dependent on me for her salary, for the roof over her head, come to that. Not that she couldn't have found other employment. She knew how to work. But she might not have found a situation that allowed her child to grow up in a home like this, with a playmate, with people who loved her. Vonnie's welfare was first for Elisa."
    "Was she threatened by her ex-husband?"
    He smiled, humorlessly. "Not anymore. She was a strong woman, who'd put him where he belonged. In the past."
    "Do you know of anyone who'd want to hurt her?"
    "Absolutely no one. That's the God's truth. I can't resign myself, not fully, to the fact that anyone did. I know you have a job to do, but so do I. My wife needs me, the children need me. Can we do whatever else needs to be done later?"
    "Yes. I want to take this." She pulled out the roll of ribbon. "I can give you a receipt."
    "Not necessary." He pushed to his feet, rubbed his hands over his face. "I've heard you're good at your job."
    "I am good at it."
    "I'm depending on you." He offered his hand. "We all are."
    ———«»——————«»——————«»———
    They hit crafts stores, crisscrossing Manhattan on the way downtown. Eve had no idea there was so much involved in the making of so many things easily available ready-made. When she expressed the opinion, Peabody smiled and fingered some brightly-colored thread sold in hanks.
    "There's a lot of satisfaction in making something yourself. Picking the colors, the materials, the pattern. Individualizing it, and seeing it come to life."
    "You say so."
    "A lot of craftsmen and artisans in my family. Goes with the whole Free- Agerphilosophy. I'm pretty handy myself, but I don't have a lot of time for it. I still have the tea cozy my grandmother helped me crochet when I was ten."
    "I don't even know what that is."
    "What, the tea cozy or crocheting?"
    "Either, and I find I have no interest in finding out." She studied the shelves and displays, full of supplies and finished products. "A lot of the clerks we've talked to remember Maplewood. Don't see a lot of men in these joints."
    "Needlework remains primarily the work and/or hobby of the female. Too bad. It can be very relaxing. My uncle Jonas knits up a storm and claims it's one of the reasons he's a healthy, vital one hundred and six. Or seven. Maybe it's eight."
    Eve didn't bother to respond but headed out of the shop. "Nobody, thus far, remembers any man bothering Elisa or any other customer for that matter. Nobody asking questions about her, loitering around. Same kind of ribbon. There has to be a connection."
    "He could've bought it anywhere, any time. He might've seen her in one of the stores, then gone back later to buy his own. You know, they have these craft fairs, too. He could've bumped into her at one of those. I bet she'd go to the fairs, maybe take the kids."
    "That's a good line. Check it out with the Vanderleas." She stood on the sidewalk, thumbs in front pockets, fingers tapping idly on her hips as people streamed or trudged around her. "Do that later. They need some space.