Read Online Rapture in Death by J. D. Robb - Free Book Online

Call in the sweepers, Peabody, and let’s get the scene tagged. We can release the body to the ME. I’m done with it for now.” Eve stepped back with blood smearing her sealed hands. “I want you to take a prelim from the two uniforms who responded while I talk to Foxx.”
    Eve glanced back at the body, shook her head. “That’s just the way he’d grin at you in court when he figured he’d tripped you up. The son of a bitch.” Still studying the body, she used the cleaner from her kit to remove the blood, tucked the soiled wipe into a bag as well. “Tell the ME I want toxicology ASAP.”
    She left Peabody and followed the blood trail back downstairs.
    Foxx was down to choking, whimpering sobs now. The uniform looked ridiculously relieved when Eve reappeared. “Wait for the ME and my adjutant outside, Officer. Give Officer Peabody your report. I’ll speak with Mr. Foxx now.”
    “Yes, sir.” With almost unseemly delight, he fled the room.
    “Mr. Foxx, I’m Lieutenant Dallas. I’m sorry for your loss.” Eve located the button that released the drapes, pushed it to let watery light into the room. “You need to talk to me. You need to tell me what happened here.”
    “He’s dead.” Foxx’s voice was faintly musical, accented. Lovely. “Fitz is dead. I don’t know how that can be. I don’t know how I can go on.”
    Everyone goes on. Eve thought. There’s little choice. She sat and put her recorder on the table in plain sight. “Mr. Foxx, it would help us both if you talked to me now. I’m going to give you the standard caution. It’s just a matter of procedure.”
    She recited the revised Miranda while his sobs trickled off, he lifted his head, and aimed swollen, red-rimmed golden eyes at her.
    “Do you think I killed him? Do you think I could hurt him?”
    “Mr. Foxx — “
    “I loved him. We’ve been together for twelve years. He was my life.”
    You still have your life, she thought. You just don’t know it yet. “Then you’ll want to help me do my job. Tell me what happened.”
    “He — he’s been having trouble sleeping lately. Doesn’t like to take tranqs. He can usually read, listen to music, spend an hour with VR or one of his games, whatever, to relax. This case he’s working on worried him.”
    “The Salvatori case.”
    “Yes, I believe, yes.” Foxx wiped at his eyes with a damp and bloodied sleeve. “We didn’t discuss his cases in any depth. There was privilege, and I’m not a lawyer. I’m a nutritionist. That’s how we met. Fitz came to me twelve years ago for help with his diet. We became friends, we became lovers, then we simply became.”
    She would need to know all of that, but for the moment, she wanted to see the events leading up to that last bath. “He’s been having trouble sleeping,” she prompted.
    “Yes. He’s often plagued with insomnia. He gives so much to his clients. They prey on his mind. I’m accustomed to him getting up in the middle of the night and going into another room to program a game or doze in front of the view screen. Sometimes he’d take a warm bath.” Foxx’s already ravaged face blanched. “Oh God.”
    The tears started again, flowing hotly down his cheeks. Eve took a quick look around and spotted a small serving droid in the corner of the room. “Bring Mr. Foxx some water,” she ordered, and the little droid scooted away to comply.
    “Is that what happened?” she continued. “Did he get up in the middle of the night?”
    “I don’t even remember.” Foxx lifted his hands, let them fall. “I sleep soundly, never have a bit of trouble. We’d gone to bed just before midnight, watched some of the late news, had a brandy. I woke early. I tend to.”
    “What time was that?”
    “Perhaps five, five fifteen. We both like early starts, and it’s my habit to program the morning meal personally. I saw that Fitz wasn’t in bed, assumed he’d had a bad night and that I’d find him downstairs or in one of the spare bedrooms.