“Since she’s one of yours I don’t have to ask if she’s good.”

“She is. Very good.”

“And he was her husband?”

Roarke looked back at the bed. “He was. Blair Bissel, an artist of some debatable talent. Works-worked in metal. That’s one of his, I believe.” He gestured toward a tall, seemingly jumbled series of metal tubes and blocks that stood in the corner of the room.

“And people pay for that?” She shook her head. “Takes all kinds. I’m going to ask you more about her later, but I want to get to her first, then take a closer look at the scene here. How long have they had marital problems?” Eve asked as she started down the hall again.

“I wasn’t aware they had any.”

“Well, they’re over now. Keep Caro tucked away,” she ordered, then walked to the living area to get her first look at Reva Ewing.

Caro sat with her arm around a woman in her early thirties. She had dark hair, cut short in a style nearly as careless as Eve’s. She looked to have a small, compact body, the athletic sort that showed off well in the black T-shirt and jeans she wore.

Her skin was icy-white, her eyes a kind of sooty gray that was nearly black with shock. Her lips were colorless, a bit on the thin side. As Eve stepped closer, those eyes flicked up, stared blindly. They were red-rimmed and puffy, and showed none of the sharp intelligence Eve assumed she owned.

“Ms. Ewing, I’m Lieutenant Dallas.”

She continued to stare, but there was a faint movement of her head, as much shudder as nod.

“I need to ask you some questions. Your mother’s going to go with Roarke while we talk.”

“Oh, couldn’t I stay with her?” Caro’s arm tightened on Reva’s shoulders. “I won’t interfere, I promise, but-”

“Caro.” Roarke moved to stand beside her, reached down and took her hand. “It’s better this way.” Gently, he drew Caro to her feet. “Better for Reva. You can trust Eve.”

“Yes, I know. It’s just…” She looked back as Roarke led her from the room. “I’ll be right here. Reva, I’m right here.”

“Ms. Ewing.” Eve sat across from her, set her recorder on the table between them. And saw Reva’s gaze fix on it. “I’m going to record this. I’m going to read you your rights, then ask you some questions. Do you understand?”

“Blair’s dead. I saw. They’re dead. Blair and Felicity.”

“Ms. Ewing, you have the right to remain silent.” Eve walked through the revised Miranda, and Reva closed her eyes.

“Oh God, oh God. It’s real. It’s not some horrible dream. It’s real.”

“Tell me what happened here tonight.”

“I don’t know.” A tear dribbled down her cheek. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Was your husband sexually involved with Felicity?”

“I don’t understand it. I don’t understand. I thought he loved me.” Her eyes locked on Eve’s. “I didn’t believe it at first. How could I? Blair and Felicity. My husband and my friend. But then I could see it, could see all the signs I missed, all the clues, all the mistakes-those little mistakes they both made.”

“How long have you known?”

“Just tonight. Just tonight.” Her breath shuddered in and out as she used a balled fist to wipe at the tears on her cheeks. “He was supposed to be out of town until tomorrow. A client, a new commission. But he was here, with her. I came, and I saw…”

“You came here tonight to confront them?”

“I was so angry. They’d made a fool out of me, and I was so angry. They broke my heart, and I was so sad. Then they were dead. All that blood. All the blood.”

“Did you kill them, Reva?”

“No!” Her whole body jerked at the question. “No, no, no! I wanted to hurt them. I wanted them to pay. But I didn’t… I couldn’t have. I don’t know what happened.”

“Tell me what you do know.”

“I drove over. We have a house in Queens. Blair wanted a house, and he didn’t want to live in Manhattan where we both worked. Someplace private and away, that’s what he said. Someplace just ours.”

Her voice broke on the words so that she covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry. It all seems impossible. It seems I’ll wake up any minute and none of this will have happened.”

There was some blood on her shirt. None on her hands, on her arms, her face. Eve noted it down among her observations and waited for Reva to compose herself and go on.

“I was furious, and I knew just what I wanted to do. I’d designed the security here, so I knew how to get in. I broke in.”

She dashed a tear off her cheek. “I didn’t want to give them time to prepare, so I broke in, and I went upstairs, to her bedroom.”

“Did you have a weapon?”

“No… Well, I had a stunner. My SS issue, reconfigured. It won’t go over minimum power, so I can carry it with a civilian license. I was…” She heaved a breath. “I was going to give him a jolt with it. On the balls.”

“And did you?”

“No.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t remember clearly. It’s like this smear over my brain.”

“You tear up the leather jacket?”

“Yeah.” She sighed now. “I saw it hanging over the rail. I gave him that goddamn jacket, and seeing it just made me crazy. I took out my minidrill and went to work on it. Petty, I know it was petty, but I was so angry.”

“Doesn’t seem petty to me,” Eve said, keeping her tone mild and just a little sympathetic. “Husband’s cheating on you with your pal, you’d want to get some of your own back.”

“That’s the way I felt. Then I saw them in the bed, together. And I saw them-dead. The blood. I’ve never seen so much blood. She screamed-no, no, I screamed. I must’ve screamed.”

She rubbed a hand over her throat, as if she could still feel the sound ripping through it. “Then I passed out-I think. I smelled something. The blood, but something. Something else, and I passed out. I don’t know how long.”

She reached for the glass of water, drank deeply. “I woke up, and I felt fuzzy and sick and strange. Then I saw them, on the bed. I saw them again and I crawled out. I couldn’t seem to stand up, so I crawled out, to the bathroom and got sick. I called my mother. I don’t know why exactly. I should’ve called the police, but I called Mom. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Did you come here tonight with the intention of killing your husband and your friend?”

“No. I came here with the intention of pitching a royal fit. Lieutenant, I’m going to be sick again. I need to-”

She clutched her stomach, then sprang up and ran. Eve was on her heels when Reva flung open a door and dived into a powder room. Dropping to her knees, she was hideously ill.

“Burns,” she managed, and gratefully took the damp cloth Eve offered. “Burns my throat.”

“You take any illegals tonight, Reva?”

“I don’t do illegals.” She mopped the cloth over her face. “Believe me, you’re raised by Caro, screened by the Secret Service, then Roarke, you don’t screw around.” Exhaustion in every line of her body, she leaned back against the wall. “Lieutenant, I’ve never killed anyone. I carried a weapon when I stood for the President, and once took a hit for her. I’ve got a temper, and when I’m riding on it, I can be rash. Whoever did that to Blair, to Felicity, wasn’t rash. They had to be crazy. Fucking out of their minds. I couldn’t have done it. I couldn’t have.”

Eve crouched down so they were eye-to-eye. “Why do you sound like you’re trying to convince yourself of that, Reva, as much as me?”

Her lips trembled, her eyes swam with fresh tears. “Because I can’t remember. I just can’t remember.” She covered her face with her hands, and wept.

Eve left her long enough to get Caro. “I want you to sit with her,” Eve instructed. “I’m going to put a guard with you momentarily. That’s procedure.”

“Are you arresting her?”

“I haven’t made that determination. She’s cooperating, and that’s going to help. It’d be best if you bring her in here, keep her in this room until I come back.”

“All right. Thank you.”