“Anna.”
“That’s it. I’ve dragged a lot of people onto the stage at Mike’s.” He smiled at the thought. “That isn’t a stiff sort of place, and more the sort I’d take a team for fun.”
“Anna Hobe has been missing for seven days.”
“What?” He jerked back. “No! Like Mary Kate?”
“You haven’t been in Mike’s in the last week?”
“No, no, not for a couple of weeks, at least. We were working on the campaign, and I brought work home. What does this mean? The first girl…”
His color went nearly as gray as his hair.
“Oh my God, you think that could happen to Mary Kate?”
“All three of these women live within blocks of here. You’ve lived here for a number of years. I’m sure people are used to seeing you, think nothing of it. You have a nice view of the street from those windows.”
He still held the ’link, and his hand shook as he stared at her.
“You think I … I’m a suspect? Why would I … I could never … I—I need a glass of water.”
“Why don’t I get that for you?” Roarke rose.
“I— Thank you. Ah, the kitchen…”
“I’ll find it.”
Mosebly closed his eyes when Roarke walked away. His rapid breathing worried Eve a little. She sure as hell didn’t need a panic attack or a heart event on her hands.
“I’ve never hurt another person in my life.” Mosebly hitched in a couple more breaths, let them out. “I avoid conflicts, to be honest. And hard news when possible. I would never harm Mary Kate. I love her.”
“Tell me about your mother.”
His eyes popped open. “My mother?”
“Yes.”
“She—she died last February after a long, difficult illness. I don’t understand what—”
“You loved her, too.”
“Of course. She was my mother.”
“She lived with you here for several years.”
“Yes. I convinced her to come to New York and live with me after my father died. I don’t know what this has to do with anything, but if it somehow helps…”
“You left home fairly young, and there are some gaps in the first couple of years after you came to New York. Can you fill those in?”
He closed his eyes again. “We can never escape them, can we? Never really escape the sins of the past.”
He looked at Eve again, and she saw sorrow, not guilt, not fear. He shifted when Roarke came back with a glass of water. Taking it, he handed Roarke Eve’s ’link.
He drank slowly before setting the glass down on the table.
“I’m gay,” he said simply.
“Okay. That has no bearing on—”
“You wanted the gaps filled. It’s unremarkable to you, my sexual orientation, but it was anything but when I was growing up, a PK in rural Kentucky.”
“PK?”
“Preacher’s kid. All those years ago, Lieutenant, if you know anything of history, you understand homosexuality wasn’t widely accepted. In that time, in that place, I was an aberration, a sin, a freak. I stayed closeted—my shame, my instinct to avoid confrontations. When I finally screwed up the courage to tell my parents, they were shocked, hurt, and couldn’t accept me or support me. My father…”
He glanced toward the photo on the mantel. “He said harsh things. It was a shameful, painful experience, but not all that atypical of those times.
“I left home with that shame and pain inside me. I had a little money, thanks to my grandparents—maternal—who were able to accept and support. I came to New York—my vision of the polar opposite of where I grew up. The money didn’t last long. I was angry, desperate, determined never to return home.”
He picked up his glass again, drank some more. “I met a man. A wealthy, influential man with many contacts. He ran … we’ll call it an escort service. I hope the statute of limitations on such things has run its course, as I don’t want to go to prison for things I did so long ago.”
“I’ve got no interest in charging you with prostitution, which is regulated and legal now.”
“It wasn’t then.” He smiled a little. “I was very good-looking, and my inexperience actually worked in my favor. I made a great deal of money, and there was enough PK in me that I was frugal with it. I avoided drugs, drank rarely and always in moderation.”
He paused to drink more water, and to Eve’s eye, steady himself again.