“Jonathan Harper Ebersole, you’re under arrest for—”
He charged her. She had an instant to think: Moron. Then as he lifted the thing in his hand, point toward her, she decided against stunning him.
Since her legs were longer than her arms, she kicked him in the balls, and he went down, gasping.
“Peabody, get the spatula.”
“It’s a palette knife, Dallas.” But fighting a grin, Peabody stepped on it.
“Whatever. Roarke, see to the witness, would you? To repeat, Jonathan Harper Ebersole, you’re under arrest for the murders of Leesa Culver, Robert Ren, Janette Whithers.”
“M-m-murder?” Aaron sat down hard in the chair Roarke led him to.
“Further charges include dosing them with barbiturates without their knowledge or consent, and trespassing on private property to dispose of their bodies. As well as the attempted murder of—what’s your name?”
“Aaron.” His golden tan faded as he went pasty white. “I’m Aaron Pine.”
“The attempted murder of Aaron Pine, and the attempted assault with intent on a police officer.”
“Was he going to kill me?”
Eve cuffed the blubbering Jonathan, then looked at Aaron. “Don’t you listen to media reports?”
“Why?” He lifted trembling hands. “Things are bad enough without hearing about more shit.”
“Hard to argue. Suspect’s in custody.”
“We heard.” Baxter strolled in. “This is some excellent place.”
“I guess I’m relieved of ass-kicking duties,” Jenkinson added as he glanced around. “Who are you supposed to be?” he asked Aaron.
“I don’t know. Some guy from history.”
“Dr. Pozzi at Home,” Roarke supplied. “John Singer Sargent. Dr. Pozzi was a nineteenth-century French gynecologist.”
“Seriously?” was Jenkinson’s response as Aaron just put his head in his hands and moaned.
“Also reputed to be quite the ladies’ man—in nonprofessional ways. Can I get you something, Aaron?”
“Can I have the rest of my glass of wine? It’s not dosed, is it? He drank some, too. I saw him pour both glasses from the bottle.”
“Don’t touch anything until you seal up,” Eve told Roarke as she hauled Jonathan to his feet. “We need some field kits from the van.”
“You broke into my home.” Jonathan’s voice wheezed a little but carried plenty of venom. “I’ll have your job! You have no right to break into my home.”
“Got a warrant.” Curious, she looked at the portrait he’d begun. “Man, that’s a lot of red. I know somebody with fingers like those. Spider fingers.” She glanced back at Aaron. “Yours don’t look like spiders.”
“It’s not finished! I’d barely started!”
“Maybe they’ll let you finish it in prison. I really doubt it, but maybe. Who wants to take him in?”
“I don’t get to kick ass, I might as well get some satisfaction. Me and Reineke have him, boss. We’ll get him all nice and settled.”
“I’m not going to prison. That’s ridiculous! You have no idea who I am!”
“Well, you start with jail, but yeah, you are. And I know exactly who you are, you dumb fuck. I didn’t finish reading the dumb fuck his rights, Detective Sergeant.”
“We’ll take care of that. Hey, dumb fuck, you have the right to remain silent.”
