Easy Prey by John Sandford

knew her,” Lucas said.
    â€œYes. She was some kind of hotel executive.”
    Sloan nodded. “Okay. Let me ask you about your personal relationship with Miz Maison. You were . . . what?”
    He let the question hang there, unfinished. Corbeau hesitated for a moment, then said, “We had both a friendship and a sexual relationship. I originally met her in New York. We were both working as models—this was before she became as famous as she is . . . was. We were both from Minnesota—that brought us together, and we became friends.”
    â€œThe relationship continued even after you moved back here? I understand you live here now.”
    â€œYes, although I go to New York every few weeks, to talk with dealers. I represent both myself and several other potters to the New York galleries. I’d usually stay at Alie’e’s apartment.”
    â€œNot always?”
    â€œNot always. We both continued to have other relationships—with men as well as women.” She was looking at Lucas again. “Neither one of us thought of ourselves as primarily lesbian; we were just very good friends and our friendship had a physical component to it. If she had a man over, then I would stay someplace else. Usually up on Central Park South, so I could walk to the galleries on Fifty-seventh Street and over on Madison Avenue.”
    â€œDid you have a sexual encounter with Miz Maison last night at the party?” Sloan asked.
    Another quick glance at the lawyer. “Yes.”
    â€œYou were alone with her?”
    â€œNo. There were three of us. The other woman is Catherine Kinsley, who I believe is up north at her cabin with her husband. I haven’t been able to reach her.” She flushed for the first time. “This is not heavy duty masculine-style sexuality. This is more like . . . cuddling, kissing, talking with each other.”
    â€œBut there was a physical component.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhat happened . . . afterwards? How was she when you left?”
    â€œSleepy. We were all sleepy, but she’d gotten up very early for her photo shoot, and had to get up the next day, and Silly—Silly Hanson—said she could sleep there, and so we left her. She was okay.”
    â€œAnd neither you nor Miz Kinsley saw her again.”
    â€œNo. Well, I don’t know if Catherine saw her, because, like I said, I haven’t been able to reach her this morning. I couldn’t find her number, and I don’t know exactly where the cabin is. Anyway, I don’t think she saw her. We walked out to our cars together, said good-bye, and I went home. Your police people woke me up.”
    â€œMiz Maison injected heroin around the time of your encounter. Were you present for that?”
    â€œNo.” Quick and definite, Lucas thought. She’d known the question was coming.
    Sloan continued. “You didn’t know that she was using heroin?”
    A slight hesitation, another glance at the attorney, and, “I thought she might be tripping when we met in the bedroom. She was . . . languid. She was the way you get when you’re using. But I wasn’t there when she injected, and I don’t think she had much, because she didn’t fall asleep or anything, not while we were there. It was more like a . . . a . . . party favor.”
    â€œA party favor,” Lucas said.
    â€œYeah. That’s what people call them. Some people call them short pops—you know, if you want the effect but don’t want to get addicted.”
    â€œYou get addicted anyway,” Sloan said.
    Corbeau flipped her head. “You know that’s not true. That’s just a political position.”
    Sloan looked at Lucas, who raised his eyebrows, and Sloan said, “I’m not here to argue with you, but just for the record, Miz Corbeau: Short pops will addict you as fast as anything. Believe me or don’t believe me. But that’s the way it is.”
    She