Authors: J. D. Robb
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Detective and mystery stories, #Police, #Suspense, #Mystery, #Police Procedural, #Psychics, #Policewomen, #Crime & Thriller, #Crime & mystery, #Eve (Fictitious character), #Dallas, #Dallas; Eve (Fictitious Character)
"I'll manage."
"Dallas!" Celina sprang off a bench. "I've been waiting. They said you were on your way in. You haven't answered your voice or e-mail."
"Been busy. Getting to it."
"Peabody." She clamped a hand over Eve's arm.
"She's holding. I'm really pressed, Celina. I can give you a few minutes in my office. You set?" she asked Roarke.
"I am, yes. I'll meet you out here."
"I'm sorry." Celina pushed her hands through her luxurious hair. "I'm upset."
"We all are," Roarke told her. "It was a long, difficult night."
"I know. I saw..."
"Let's take it in here." She led the way into her office, shut the door. "Have a seat." Though she knew caffeine wasn't the best idea at the moment, she wanted coffee. Ordered two. "What did you see?"
"The attack. On Peabody. God, I was in the tub. Hot bath before bed to relax me for today. I saw her walking—sidewalk, buildings. He—he just leaped out at her. It was like a blur, and the next thing I know I'm floundering around in the tub like a damn trout. I tried to contact you."
"I was already in the field, and went straight to the hospital. I haven't gotten to a lot of my messages."
"He knocked her down. He was kicking her, and she was fighting him. He hurt her. It was terrible. For a minute, I thought she was dead, but—"
"She's not. She's holding."
Celina clutched the coffee in both hands. "She's not like the others. I don't understand."
"I do. Just tell me what you saw. I want the details."
"They're not clear. It's so damn frustrating." She set the mug down with a snap. "I talked to Dr. Mira, but she won't budge on the time element for the next session. I wanted to go under immediately. I know, I
know
I'd see more. But I saw—I heard—screaming, shouting, and he threw Peabody down. I saw him jump into... It was a van. I'm sure it was a van. Dark. But everything seemed dark. He was hurt. There was pain."
"She got to her weapon."
"Oh. Good. Good. He was afraid. I feel... it's hard to explain it, but I feel it. His fear. And not just of being seen, or caught, but of something else. More. Of not finishing? I want to know, I want to help. Can you convince Dr. Mira?"
"She won't budge for you, she won't for me." Sitting on her desk, Eve tapped her fingers on her knee. "If I could get a personal item from someone I believe was a victim, a previous victim, would you get anything from it?"
"Very possibly." Excitement shone in Celina's eyes as she leaned forward. "It's more what I do. That connection. If I could link, I might see something."
"I'll work on that. I don't know if I can be there for your session today. We've caught a break and I'm following it through. The witnesses from last night got a pretty good look at him."
"Thank God. If you can identify him, this will be over. Thank God."
"I'll work on getting you something as soon as I can."
"Anytime. Absolutely anytime. I'll come in as soon as you want me. I'm sick about Peabody, Dallas. Just sick about it."
———«»——————«»——————«»———
Sometime during the endless night, McNab dropped off in the chair beside Peabody's bed. He'd lowered the guard so he could reach her more easily, and when fatigue won, he rested his head beside her breast with his hand under the sheet and linked with hers.
He didn't know what woke him—the pings of the monitors, the shuffle of feet outside the room, the light that spilled through the window. But he lifted his head, winced with the crick in his neck, rubbing it out as he studied her face.
They hadn't yet treated the bruising, and it broke his heart to see her face so damaged. It twisted his belly to see her so still.
"It's morning." He cleared the worst of the hoarseness from his voice. "Morning, baby. Ah, sun's out, but it looks like we might get some rain. You, ah, had a lot of people in and out, checking on you. If you don't wake up, you're going to miss all the attention. I was going to get you flowers, but I didn't want to leave you that long. You wake up, and I'll take care of that. Want some flowers? Come on, She-body, rise and shine."
He slipped her hand out, pressed it to his cheek. There were nasty abrasions down the arm where it had skidded over the sidewalk.
"Come on, come on back. We got a lot to do, you know. Moving day."
He kept her hand there as he turned his head and watched Mavis come in.
She said nothing, only walked to him, laid a hand on the back of his head.
"How'd you get by the dragons?"
"Said I was her sister."
It made him close his eyes. "Close enough. She's still out."
"Bet she knows you're here." Mavis leaned over, touched her lips to his cheek. "Leonardo's down getting her some flowers. She'll like having them when she wakes up."
"We were just talking about that. Oh, Christ." He turned his head, pressed his face into Mavis's side as he fought to hold on.
She waited, stroking his hair until the tremors passed, and he was able to draw a steady breath. "I'll sit with her if you want to take a walk, get some air."
"I can't."
"Okay."
He shifted, but stayed close so they watched the steady rise and fall of Peabody's chest together. "Louise checked on her a few times. I think she and Charles stayed most of the night."
"I saw him in the waiting area. Dallas?"
"She's going after the bastard. She's hunting the animal who did this to her."
"Then she'll get him." After giving him a pat, Mavis turned away to pull over a chair.
"Wait, sorry, let me get that. You shouldn't be hauling stuff."
At best, the folding chair weighed four pounds, but she let him move it over for her. " McNab, there isn't a lot we—me and Leonardo—can do. But we can move your stuff, set up your new place."
"It's a lot of stuff. I don't want—"
"We can do that, if you let us. Then when she's better, you can just, you know, carry her in. It'll be done. You need to be here, with her. We can do this for you. For both of you."
"I... that'd be mag. Thanks, Mavis."
"Hey, we're going to be neighbors."
"You, ah, don't go lifting anything heavy. With that bun in the oven."
"Don't worry." She rubbed a hand over her belly. "I won't."
"I feel like I'm going to fall apart any second. Then the second passes, and it's the next, and I..." He jerked straight in the chair. "I think she moved. Did you see that?"
"No, but I—"
"She moved. Her fingers." He turned over the hand he held in his. "I felt them move. Come on, Peabody. Wake up."
"I saw it that time." With her fingers gripping his shoulders, she leaned forward. "Look, she's trying to open her eyes. Do you want me to get somebody?"
"Wait. Wait." He pushed up, leaned over. "Open your eyes, Peabody. You can hear me. No sliding back under again. Come on, you're going to be late for your tour."
She made some sound—part gurgle, part moan, part sigh—and he'd never heard sweeter music. Her lids fluttered, and her swollen, blackened eyes opened.
"There you are." The tears flooded his throat; he swallowed most of them and grinned at her.
"What happened?"
"You're in the hospital. You're okay."
"Hospital. Can't remember."
"Doesn't matter now. You hurt anywhere?"
"I... everywhere. God, what happened to me?"
"It's okay. Mavis."
"I'll get somebody."
When she dashed out, McNab pressed his lips to Peabody's hand. "It's going to be okay now. I promise. Dee. Baby."
"I was... coming home."
"You'll get there. Soon."
"Can I have drugs first?"
He laughed, as tears rolled out of his eyes.
———«»——————«»——————«»———
Eve caught herself leaning over Yancy's shoulder, and eased back. "It's okay. Used to it. Let me tell you first, if everybody brought me witnesses like yours, my job would be a hell of a lot easier. Maybe a little boring."
Then he glanced back at Roarke. "This is one of your programs."
"So I see. It's one of the best image programs on the market though we're working on some upgrades. Still, it's only as efficient as its operator."
"I like to think so."
"Can you guys get back to your admiration session later?"
"Well, take a look. Here's the sketch your wit brought in, and here's my revised image, after the session. See? We got a little more detail, subtle alterations, but they can boost time on an ID match."
"Less Frankenstein," Roarke commented.
"Yeah. The behavior of the subject tends to influence the witness's memory of his physicality. They see this big guy pounding on a woman, and he takes on giant characteristics. Monster shit. But your wit had the basics, and he had them down. Square face, lots of forehead, shiny dome. Knowing about the sealant lets me program that element. The shades hamper the ID—eyes are the best element for a match. But from here, we start building, using the program."
He initiated, took the sketch through the building stages. "Profile. Adding dimension, skull shape."
Eve watched Yancy use a stylist to prompt the program, section by section, on the image.
"Ears, line of neck. Revolve to back view, other profile. Full face. Shape of the mouth, nose, angle of bone. Get it to three dimensions, add skin tone. Okay, this is the best probability, given current data. To take it the last step, you have to go with a combo of your own judgment and the comp's. Remove shades."
Eve stared at the eyeless face, felt a shudder run through her.
"Apt," Roarke stated.
"Yeah."
"His eyes could be damaged, but for ID purposes, we're going to try the highest probabilities for the shape. Color's not an option, though I'd lean toward dark with this skin tone and the eyebrows. Highest percentage. Going that direction, this is what I get."
Eve studied the finished image. The hard, square face, soft mouth, thick eyebrows over small, dark eyes. The nose was large, slightly hooked, the ears prominent against the bald skull.
"There he is," she said quietly.
"If it's not damn near close as a photograph, you can spank me," Yancy said. "I'll toss this to your office unit. Got you plenty of hard copies. I'll pass some out myself. You want me to run the ID match?"
"Shoot it to Feeney in EDD. Nobody's faster." Then she glanced at Roarke, saw him smile. "Hardly. That's a hell of a job, Yancy. One hell of a job."
"Your wits were gold." He handed her a stack of hard copies. "Tell Peabody we're pulling for her."
"Bet your ass." She punched him lightly on the shoulder, a sign of affection as much as appreciation, and hurried out. "Going to run for a match myself. Feeney'll probably beat me to it, but we'll get this started. And once we—shit, shit, shit."
She yanked out her beeping communicator. Seeing McNab's code on the readout, she stopped short. Instinctively, she reached for Roarke's hand as she answered. "Dallas."
"She's awake."
"On my way."
———«»——————«»——————«»———
Eve all but sprinted down the hospital corridor, and when an ICU attendant held up a hand, she only snarled. "Don't try it."
She surged through the door and straight into Peabody's room. And stopped short.
Peabody was propped up in bed, a vague smile on her battered face. The short counter under the single window had been transformed into a garden, with flowers jammed together in such abundance their scent overpowered even the hospital scent.
McNabstood beside her, holding her hand as if he'd been glued there. Louise was on the other side. And perched on a chair was Mavis, doing some blooming of her own in florid purple and green.
"Hey, Dallas." Peabody's voice was slightly slurred and absolutely cheerful. "Hello, Roarke. Jeez, he's just so gorgeous, what're ya gonna do? You gotta think about it."
Louise chuckled. "And who could blame you? You'll have to excuse her," she said to Eve. "They gave her something for the pain."
"Something really, 'specially good." Peabody grinned. "Totally iced drugs."
"How's she doing?"
"Very well." Louise gave Peabody a light pat. "She's got more treatments in store. Tests, scans, therapy—all that fussy medical business. And she'll need to be monitored carefully for a while yet. But they've bumped her all the way down to stable. She'll move to a standard room within a few hours if she stays stable. I expect her condition will be deemed good by the end of the day."
"You see my face? I mean, whoa shit! Messed me up good. They had to—what was it—reconstruct my cheekbone. I don't know why they couldn'ta done both while they were in there, and given me some. Cheekbones, you know? And he dislocated my jaw, so I'm talking funny. But it doesn't hurt a bit. I love drugs. Can I have more?"
"Can you cut them back a little?" Eve asked.
"Aw." Peabody poked out her bottom lip.
"I need to talk to her, get her statement. I need her a little more coherent for that."
"I'll check, see what I can do. But you'll need to keep it short."
"She's in a lot of pain without them," McNab said when Louise stepped out.
"She'd want to do this."
"I know." He sighed, smiled as Peabody examined the fingers of her free hand. "She's really wonked."
"How come we don't have six fingers, you think? Six would be frosty. Hey, Mavis!"
"Hey, Peabody." Mavis moved across the room, slid an arm around Eve's waist. "She says, 'Hey, Mavis,' about every five minutes," she whispered. "It's cute. I'm going to go out, sit with Leonardo and Charles while you do this part. Anybody you want us to tag to update them?"
"We spread the word, but thanks. Thanks, Mavis."
Louise and Mavis passed, going in and out. "I'm going to cut her IV down a little and give you ten minutes tops. She doesn't need to deal with pain right now."
"Can I kiss Roarke first? Come on. Please, please, please!"
Though Eve rolled her eyes, Roarke laughed and walked to the bed. "How about I kiss you, gorgeous?"
"Not so pretty right now," she said. Coyly.
"You're beautiful to me. Absolutely beautiful."
" Awwww, see? What're ya gonna do?"
He leaned down, laid his lips softly on hers.