Brigit’s chin jutted out, then angled as she inclined her head. “You’re absolutely right. I don’t like it, don’t like any of it, but you’re absolutely right. Come on, Ava, let’s sit down now. I’ll apologize, Lieutenant, Detective,” she continued as she led Ava to a thickly cushioned sofa in deep blue. “I’m rarely rude to guests in my home, even uninvited guests. I’m not altogether myself today. None of us are. Please, sit down.”

As Eve and Peabody took wide-armed chairs, Agnes rolled in a tray. “I’ve got chamomile tea for you, Ava. You’ll do better with that than coffee.”

“Thank you, Agnes.” Ava took the cup, stared into it.

“I’ll see she drinks it this time,” Brigit stated.

“Thanks.” Eve accepted the coffee Agnes offered. “Since you’re here, Mrs. Plowder, can you tell me when you and Mrs. Anders made your travel plans?”

“Travel? Oh. That seems like years ago already. We go away every year. Ava, Sasha-Sasha Bride-West-and myself. A week somewhere warm, a restorative at the end of winter.”

“This particular restorative. When did you make the plans? The dates, the destination.”

“Oh…Three months ago. About?” she added, turning to Agnes.

“Nearly four, actually. I booked the arrangements in November, just before Thanksgiving.”

“Agnes knows all, remembers all,” Brigit said, and Eve saw she’d been right. The smile was charming.

“We had such a lovely day.” Ava’s voice dripped like tears. “Such a lovely day on Monday. Breakfast on the terrace. Mimosas. We had mimosas, and we got just a little drunk. At breakfast, remember, Bridge?”

“Yes, honey, I remember.”

“We laughed like idiots. Everything was so funny. And later, when I called Tommy later, I cut it all so short. We were going to have massages on the terrace, where we’d gotten a little bit drunk at breakfast. So I cut it all very short. ‘I’ll talk to you later, Tommy,’ that’s what I said to him. ‘I’ll talk to you later. I want my massage.’ That’s the last thing I said to him, because there wasn’t any later.”

“Sweetheart.” Brigit brushed her fingers over Ava’s cheek. “Don’t do this.”

“I don’t know about trails going cold; I just know Tommy’s dead. I saw him myself when Ben took me to him. I saw Tommy dead.”

“Mrs. Anders.” Peabody shifted forward. “This is a terrible time for you. We’re here to help. You’ve lost your husband. Don’t you want to know why? Don’t you want to know who?”

“I don’t know.” Ava lifted her gaze, aimed those wet blue eyes at Peabody. “I should. I know I should. But he’ll still be gone.”

“He’d want you to know,” Peabody said. “He’d want us to find those answers.”

“I don’t know them. How could I?”

“You knew him best. You were his wife. There are things you know, things you may not realize are important, are relevant. That’s why we’re here. We will know.”

“Your husband’s date book,” Eve began. “Did he make the entries himself?”

“His date book? Yes.”

“And the autosystem in the bedroom, the wake-up program and so on. Would he have programmed that personally?”

“Yes.” Ava straightened in her seat. “He enjoyed that, hearing his first appointment of the day, being reminded of what he’d ordered for breakfast.”

“The two of you must have gotten up at the same time routinely.”

“Oh, if he had an early appointment, and I didn’t, I’d wear earplugs. And have Greta wake me.”

“Do you take sleep aids?”

“Oh, occasionally.” She waved a hand. “Now and then.”

“Did he?”

“Now and then. Everyone does, don’t they?”

“He had very specific routines. The bedroom door always closed, the internal security cameras shut down at night, no cameras in the sleeping area of the master bedroom.”

“Yes, he was very private.”

“Even in hotels,” Brigit put in. “We all traveled together quite a bit. Tommy always instructed housekeeping to keep the bedroom door closed, and tipped them in advance to insure they did.”

“He’d have been very careful regarding home security,” Eve commented.

“He had the system checked and evaluated every quarter.” Ava lifted her teacup, sipped. “And upgraded whenever upgrades became available. It wasn’t just security, though of course that was the priority. But Tommy liked…toys, if you know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“He just got such a kick out of all the bells and whistles. He liked to play,” she said wistfully.

And playing was the next line of questioning. “Mrs. Plowder, my partner and I need to speak with Mrs. Anders privately.”

“Oh, but can’t Brigit stay?” Ava fumbled for her friend’s hand. “I feel so much better with her here.”

“There are some sensitive questions. If, after we’ve concluded, you opt to share them with Mrs. Plowder, that’s your privilege. If you’d excuse us, Mrs. Plowder, Ms. Morelli.”

“We’ll be right upstairs.” Brigit patted Ava’s arm. “You only have to call if you want me.”

As her friend left the room, Ava set down her teacup, gripped her hands together in her lap. “This is about how Tommy was found. Brigit knows. Everyone knows.”

“Was your husband involved in sexual relationships outside of your marriage?”

“No.”

“Was your husband aware you procured the services of a licensed professional twice monthly for the last eighteen months?”

The prominent bones of Ava’s cheeks seemed to push against her skin. Her lips trembled, even as she clamped them tightly together. When she reached for her tea again, her hand shook. “Yes. Yes. God. Do you know what people will say about him, about us if all this gets out?”

“In your previous statement you claimed to have a solid and happy marriage.”

“It wasn’t a claim. It’s the truth.”

“Yet you sought sexual gratification from a professional.”

Ava closed her eyes a moment, let out a breath. When she opened them, her eyes were hard and angry. “You’re very smug, aren’t you? Sitting there, judging me by your lofty standards and morals.”

“I’m not judging you. I’m asking you.”

“Of course you’re judging me, and Tommy. So will others. Even Bridge, if she knew. She’s the most generous, open-hearted person I know, the most loyal of friends, but she’d never understand this. She’d never understand.”

“Make me understand.”

“Tommy and I loved each other. We enjoyed each other. We were devoted to each other. He used to say he made me laugh, and I made him think. Our marriage was very solid, very fulfilling to us both. A couple of years ago, a little more than that, I suppose, he felt, began to feel, he wanted more experimentation in bed.” She took a long drink of tea. Embarrassment or the heat from the drink flushed color into her cheeks. “We were neither of us children. Even when we married we were mature, experienced people. My husband wanted more…variety in our sexual relationship, and I tried to meet that. But, I wasn’t comfortable with some of his…”

She pressed her lips together. “In short, I wasn’t able to provide him with what he wanted, and he wasn’t satisfied with what I wanted in that one area of our marriage. It began to erode our relationship, to peck away at our foundation. We both felt it. Why should we allow that to destroy the rest?” she demanded. “We decided that we would take that off the table, so to speak. That sex wasn’t as important as we were, what we were to each other. We would simply obtain that aspect elsewhere. Discreetly. We would use professionals, and would never engage those professionals in any of our homes.”

“Did you both adhere to those terms?”

Ava looked away. “I did. Over the last few months I suspected…I thought Tommy might have been bringing women into the house while I was away. I found some lingerie in my drawer, another woman’s lingerie Greta must have laundered and put away believing it was mine. Some of my perfume went missing. Little things.”

“Did you confront him?”

“No. I was hurt, I admit it. Hurt and disappointed. Angry, too. I’d decided to take the time during this trip with my friends to decide how to handle it. He let someone into our home, and now he’s dead.” Her hand fisted in her lap. “I’m so angry with him, so angry with him for leaving me over this.”