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Nixie?”
    “Safe.”
    “Mother of God.” Dave staggered to the sofa, slid onto it, crossed himself. “Merciful Jesus. What happened?”
    “We’re investigating. How long have you worked with Swisher?”
    “Um, God. Ah, five years. Two as a partner.”
    “Let’s get this out of the way. Can you give me your whereabouts between midnight and three a.m.?”
    “Shit. Shit. Home. Well, I got home just after midnight.”
    “Alone?”
    “No. Overnight guest. I’ll give you her name. We were up and . . . occupied until around two. She left about eight this morning.” His eyes were dark, and when they met Eve’s again, they were shattered. “He wasn’t just my partner.”
    Sade sat beside him, took his hand. “It’s just what she has to ask, Dave. You know. Nobody thinks you’d hurt Grant or his family. I was home. I’ve got a roommate,” she added, “but she wasn’t home last night. I was talking to a friend on the ’link until just after midnight. She’s got man trouble. You can check my machine.”
    “Appreciate it. I’m going to want the name of your overnight guest, Mr. Rangle. It’s routine. Ms. Tully, you said Mr. Swisher was between assistants. What happened to his assistant?”
    “She just had a baby last month. She took maternity, but was planning to come back, so we did the temp thing. But a few days ago, she opted for professional mother status. There wasn’t any friction, if that’s what you’re after. God, I’ll have to tell her.”
    “I’ll need her name, and the names of all the staff. Just routine,” Eve added. “Now I want you to think, to tell me if you know of anyone who’d wish Mr. Swisher or his family harm. Mr. Rangle?”
    “I don’t have to think. I don’t.”
    “A client he’d pissed off?”
    “Honest to God, I can’t think of anybody who’s ever walked in that door who would do something like this. His kid? Coyle? My God.” Tears swam into his eyes. “I played softball with Coyle. The kid loved baseball. It was like his religion.”
    “Swisher ever cheat on his wife?”
    “Hey.” When Dave started to rise, Sade pressed a hand on his thigh.
    “You can never say a hundred percent, you know that. But I’d give you a ninety-nine point nine percent no, and that goes for her, too. They were tight, they were happy. They believed in family, since neither of them had much of one before they hooked up. And they worked to keep it together.”
    Sade took a steadying breath. “You work as close as we work in this firm, you know that kind of thing. You get the vibes. Grant loved his wife.”
    “Okay. I want access to his office, his files, his client list, court transcripts, the works.”
    “Don’t make her get a warrant, Dave,” Sade said quietly. “Grant wouldn’t if it had been one of us. He’d cooperate. He’d help.”
    He nodded. “You said Nixie was safe. She wasn’t hurt.”
    “No. She wasn’t injured, and she’s in protective custody.”
    “But Linnie . . .” He passed a hand over his face. “Have you told the Dysons?”
    “Yes. Do you know them?”
    “Yeah, God, yeah. Parties at Grant’s, weekends at this place they have in the Hamptons on time share. Grant and Matt and I golfed a couple times a month. Sade, can you make calls, close things down for the day?”
    “Sure. Don’t worry.”
    “I’ll show you Grant’s office—sorry, I can’t remember if I got your name.”
    “Dallas, Lieutenant Dallas.”
    “Um, they didn’t have close family. Arrangements . . . Will we be able to make arrangements?”
    “I’ll see if I can clear that for you.”
    ***
    When they got back in their vehicle, they had a box full of discs, several files of hard copies, Swisher’s office calendar, address, and memo books.
    Peabody strapped in. “Picture’s coming clear of a nice, happy family, nicely secured financially, good circle of friends, close relationships with associates, satisfying careers. Not the sort you expect to get murdered in their