“There can be enough of a why, though it makes no rational sense, to help us find him.”
“Enough of a why?” Ira echoed.
“Why the Patricks, why you, why the Strazzas? Married couples, childless married couples, who live in single-resident homes in good neighborhoods.”
“Three makes a pattern,” Lori stated. “I write screenplays.”
“My information is you’re a lawyer.”
“Yes. I write on the side—under other names. It’s more than a hobby, less than a job. In any case, I’ve script doctored several thrillers. Three makes a pattern. We’re … a type.”
“We believe there’s a pattern, yes, and that helps us. We believe he selected you as he did the others. And that he’s done with you,” Eve added when she saw fear leap into Lori’s eyes. “If he continues the pattern, he’s already selected his next victims. You may be able to help us stop him.”
“We agreed to talk to you,” Ira said, “because we would do anything, anything to stop him, to know he’s locked away. I wanted to kill him. I’ve never been a violent man, but I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. I’ve dreamed of it, of getting free, and beating him to death right there, in our bedroom.”
Even as he said it, Ira’s eyes glittered with retribution.
“He struck Lori, again and again, raped her, again and again. And he watched me while he raped her. Grinned at me. I could do nothing.”
“He wanted to humiliate you, Mr. Brinkman,” Peabody told him. “As much as he wanted anything, he wanted that. He’s a coward, and he’s weak, that’s why he threatened your wife. He threatened her to disable you.”
“He used me to hurt Ira, used Ira to hurt me. Yes, he’s a coward, but you haven’t stopped him.”
“We’re adding details that may help us do that.”
Lori looked back at Eve. “You said selected. He selected us. What do we represent to him?”
“We’re working on that. You had no connection with the Patricks before this?”
“No—at least we didn’t know them,” Ira qualified.
“I recently learned I’d script doctored a screenplay, one that had been shelved. On Screen acquired the option when the previous one expired.”
“When was this?” Eve asked.
“It was just last month, early last month. I haven’t met or discussed it as yet with the producers. The last thing on my mind the last months has been the fun, and that’s what this is for me. We met with the Patricks, with Neville and Rosa a few weeks ago. Nikki—Detective Olsen—arranged it when I asked if we could. It helped, just talking, the four of us.”
She glanced at Ira. He smiled a little, lifted her hand to press it to his cheek.
“It’s helped,” Lori repeated. “And Rosa and I have talked several times since. She’s younger than I am, and they were just married when … Just starting their lives together. I think it’s been harder for her.”
“She struck me as strong.”
For the first time Lori smiled. “I think so, too. So am I. So are we,” she said, looking at Ira. “Ask what you need to ask.”
“Can you tell me if you’ve ever used Jacko’s Catering?”
“Catering?” Lori sent Eve a puzzled look. “No. We’ve used First Class for years. My friend Rhia raves about them, but—”
“So you’ve been to events they’ve catered?”
“Yes.”
“How about Loan Star Rentals?”
“I couldn’t say. Ira?”
“No, it’s not familiar. Why?”
“Just some details we’re exploring. Do you entertain here often? Personally, professionally?”
“I’ll bring clients and associates here for dinner occasionally,” Ira said. “It’s more usual to take them out to dinner, or lunch. Certainly we have friends over.”
“Ira actually likes to cook, so if we’re hosting a couple of friends or a small, intimate group, he makes the meal. For larger groups, Lilia sets it up with First Class.”
“Lilia?”
“Our border collie—and I mean that in the best way. Ira’s fiercely organized, and I’m not. I’m a failure when it comes to times and dates, even checklists, particularly when I’m inside a case. So Lilia handles it all. We’ll just say, we’re having a party on this date, and she takes care of the details—and makes sure I remember to stop work in time to actually shower and dress.”
“And that’s been a close call a time or two.” More relaxed, Ira lightly pinched Lori’s arm.
“Lilia Dominick?” Peabody asked, consulting her PPC.
“Yes. She’s been with us for about eight years. She makes Ira’s fierce efficiency look like chaos.” Watching Eve, Lori rubbed a hand just above Ira’s knee. “Do you think we’ve had the person who did this in our home? Invited him in?”
“We’re going to explore every avenue, Mrs. Brinkman. Whatever we find, you’ll remember: You didn’t invite him in that night. You didn’t invite his actions that night. You aren’t responsible, in any way, for what happened.”
Because she wanted to keep them from dwelling on that possibility, Eve changed gears. “Detectives Olsen and Tredway indicate neither of you met or knew the Patricks before the attacks. How about the Strazzas?”