prompted.
“First tell me what this is about.”
“Your roommate,” Malcolm said. “Her body was found yesterday.”
Zoe’s lips parted in surprise, and the muscles in her face tightened. She stepped aside. “Come in.”
The place was neatly arranged. A floral couch, two chairs, a flat-screen television, a built-in shelf loaded with books, and a large window that allowed the fading afternoon light to flood into the apartment. On several walls were framed posters of ballet productions:
Giselle
,
Swan Lake
, and
The Nutcracker
.
Malcolm made no effort to disguise his appraisal of the room. He’d discovered living spaces said a great deal about people. “How long was Sierra Day your roommate?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “About a month. It was only supposed to be for a few days, but I should have known better with Sierra. Once she’s in a place it’s hard to get rid of her.”
“You two were friends?”
“I wouldn’t say friends. We were acquaintances. I’m the marketing director for the Washington Ballet. She worked at most of the theaters in the metro area. We ran in the same circles. When she asked me if she could stay for a few nights it seemed the nice thing to do.”
“How did you two meet?”
“She was my understudy in a play a few years ago.”
“You the actress that suddenly got sick just before opening night?”
Dark brows creased. “How did you know?”
“Grapevine says that Sierra gave you a little something that made you sick so she could step into your role.”
Zoe frowned. “That’s not true.”
“What was wrong with you?”
She hesitated. “Food poisoning.”
“That’s a bad break.”
Zoe was cool, controlled. “Not really. I was trying to act when I could no longer dance. Acting was not a good fit for me. I landed the ballet marketing job a few weeks after that play shut down.”
“Why’d you let Sierra move into your place?”
“She needed a place to crash. That play stuff was water under the bridge.”
“Okay.”
Zoe folded her arms over her chest. “So where did you find her?”
“She was found at Angel Park.”
She arched a brow. “Really?”
“That means something?” Malcolm said.
“Her last reviewer called her an ‘angel on stage.’ She liked the description and repeated it a lot.”
“A lot of people heard it?” Garrison said.
“Knowing Sierra, yes. She was no shrinking violet. How did she die?”
Malcolm would bet that Zoe was no shrinking violet either. “We’re still trying to figure all that out. Did she pay you rent?”
A smile tipped the edge of Zoe’s lips. “Not a dime. But then it was just supposed to be a few days.”
“How long has it been since you last saw her?”
A crease formed on her smooth forehead. “Ten or eleven days. A Wednesday, I think.”
“It didn’t surprise you that she didn’t come home for so long?” Garrison said.
“No. She’s been coming and going like that since day one. Last Friday night I paused and wondered if she’d come home. I peeked in her room, but couldn’t tell if she’d been through or not. It’s always a wreck. I left early on Saturday for a seminar and just got back today.”
“Where was the seminar?”
“New York. It was a medical convention focused on healing injuries.”
“You want to dance again?” Malcolm said.
Her fingers tightened very slightly around her forearms. “Yes, I do. I used to be a very talented dancer. A car accident changed all that. I’d hoped the seminar would show me new healing techniques to strengthen my right ankle.”
“Did it?”
“No.” The clipped word hinted to her disappointment.
“So you just lost track of your roommate?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I had a lot of hopes pinned on this trip and was distracted. I wasn’t going to deal with Sierra until I got back.”
“Can we see her room?” Malcolm asked.
“Be my guest.”
She crossed the living room and opened the door to a guest room. The contrast
“First tell me what this is about.”
“Your roommate,” Malcolm said. “Her body was found yesterday.”
Zoe’s lips parted in surprise, and the muscles in her face tightened. She stepped aside. “Come in.”
The place was neatly arranged. A floral couch, two chairs, a flat-screen television, a built-in shelf loaded with books, and a large window that allowed the fading afternoon light to flood into the apartment. On several walls were framed posters of ballet productions:
Giselle
,
Swan Lake
, and
The Nutcracker
.
Malcolm made no effort to disguise his appraisal of the room. He’d discovered living spaces said a great deal about people. “How long was Sierra Day your roommate?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “About a month. It was only supposed to be for a few days, but I should have known better with Sierra. Once she’s in a place it’s hard to get rid of her.”
“You two were friends?”
“I wouldn’t say friends. We were acquaintances. I’m the marketing director for the Washington Ballet. She worked at most of the theaters in the metro area. We ran in the same circles. When she asked me if she could stay for a few nights it seemed the nice thing to do.”
“How did you two meet?”
“She was my understudy in a play a few years ago.”
“You the actress that suddenly got sick just before opening night?”
Dark brows creased. “How did you know?”
“Grapevine says that Sierra gave you a little something that made you sick so she could step into your role.”
Zoe frowned. “That’s not true.”
“What was wrong with you?”
She hesitated. “Food poisoning.”
“That’s a bad break.”
Zoe was cool, controlled. “Not really. I was trying to act when I could no longer dance. Acting was not a good fit for me. I landed the ballet marketing job a few weeks after that play shut down.”
“Why’d you let Sierra move into your place?”
“She needed a place to crash. That play stuff was water under the bridge.”
“Okay.”
Zoe folded her arms over her chest. “So where did you find her?”
“She was found at Angel Park.”
She arched a brow. “Really?”
“That means something?” Malcolm said.
“Her last reviewer called her an ‘angel on stage.’ She liked the description and repeated it a lot.”
“A lot of people heard it?” Garrison said.
“Knowing Sierra, yes. She was no shrinking violet. How did she die?”
Malcolm would bet that Zoe was no shrinking violet either. “We’re still trying to figure all that out. Did she pay you rent?”
A smile tipped the edge of Zoe’s lips. “Not a dime. But then it was just supposed to be a few days.”
“How long has it been since you last saw her?”
A crease formed on her smooth forehead. “Ten or eleven days. A Wednesday, I think.”
“It didn’t surprise you that she didn’t come home for so long?” Garrison said.
“No. She’s been coming and going like that since day one. Last Friday night I paused and wondered if she’d come home. I peeked in her room, but couldn’t tell if she’d been through or not. It’s always a wreck. I left early on Saturday for a seminar and just got back today.”
“Where was the seminar?”
“New York. It was a medical convention focused on healing injuries.”
“You want to dance again?” Malcolm said.
Her fingers tightened very slightly around her forearms. “Yes, I do. I used to be a very talented dancer. A car accident changed all that. I’d hoped the seminar would show me new healing techniques to strengthen my right ankle.”
“Did it?”
“No.” The clipped word hinted to her disappointment.
“So you just lost track of your roommate?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I had a lot of hopes pinned on this trip and was distracted. I wasn’t going to deal with Sierra until I got back.”
“Can we see her room?” Malcolm asked.
“Be my guest.”
She crossed the living room and opened the door to a guest room. The contrast
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