Abandoned in Death (In Death, #54)(100)

“Please, get me out of here. Get me out.”

“That’s what we’re going to do. Don’t you worry.”

Eve reached the steps to see Jenkinson stroking Covino’s hair as she wept on his shoulder.

“Bring her up this way. It’s clear.”

Still clinging to Jenkinson, Mary Kate whipped her head toward Eve. “Did you catch him? Did you find him? He’s insane.”

“We have him,” Eve assured her. “He’s secured. We’re going to have you transported to the hospital, and—”

“No, please, no, please. I don’t want to go to the hospital. I want … God, I want my mom. I want…” She buried her face in Jenkinson’s shoulder again.

“Mary Kate.” Eve came down a few steps. “Cop Central’s not far.”

“It’s not? Where the hell am I?”

“About six blocks from where you live. How about we take you to Central, and I contact your mother, your family, your roommate, anyone you want. We can have a medical look you over there.”

“Please. Okay, please. Can you take me out of here?”

“Jenkinson, take Mary Kate into Central, stay with her. Ah, cloak the board in the conference room, use that. Reineke, I’m going to need you here on the search for now. Start on the second floor.”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Sure I will. I bet that ankle’s sore. You lean on me now.”

With a sob that ended on a sigh, Mary Kate leaned on Jenkinson. She looked at Eve.

“There was another woman here. At least one other. Her name was Anna, that’s all I could hear. I think he killed her. I’m afraid he did.”

“We’ll talk about it.”

Eve walked down as they walked up. When Roarke came down a few minutes later, she stood at one of the cells. “I’m going to contact Louise—she’s closer than Mira for a physical exam on Covino. Mira’ll handle the rest, but her wrist and ankle looked rough. Three cells. Two more like this.”

She gestured. “And he’d have used the bath in the bedroom suite deal to clean them up. He has a work space set up in there—a long table, all the hair stuff, makeup, the tattoo kit, and so on. Wardrobe in the closet.

“She got the keys from him. I need to ask her how the hell she managed to get him to set down the keys, a knife that’s likely the murder weapon, a Taser—a mini, wouldn’t do much, but still. How the hell did she get him to leave all of that within her reach?”

“She must be a very clever woman. She outwitted him. So did you.”

“On our part, good cop work. On hers? That’s grit. Smarts, yeah, but grit. I have to go in, talk to her. I may want a pass at Dawber tonight, we’ll see. Either way it’s going to take awhile.”

Because she had her recorder on, and he knew her standards, he didn’t touch her. “You know I’m going with you.”

“Figured, but just wanted to point all that out.”

“Dallas?” Peabody called from the top of the stairs. “He has an office set up on the second floor. He had more targets lined up. You’re going to want to see this.”

“On my way.” She looked again at the windowless room with its narrow cot, the shackles bolted to the wall.

“Grit,” she repeated.





21





As she walked from the basement level to the second floor, Eve contacted Louise Dimatto.

“Hey,” Eve said when Louise, blond hair loose and wavy, came on-screen. “I need a favor.”

“I’m in a very good mood, so inclined to give one.”

“Where are you?” Walking, Eve observed. Street noises.

“Enjoying a slow walk home after a lovely dinner with my sexy husband.”

Louise aimed her ’link over and up so Charles came on-screen. “Hey back, Lieutenant Sugar.”

Good moods all around, Eve concluded, for the doctor and the former licensed companion turned sex therapist.

“How about grabbing your medical bag and making a detour to Central?”

Louise angled the ’link back, and the dreamy light in her gray eyes vanished. “Who’s hurt?”

“Female victim, Mary Kate Covino. Minor physical injuries, primarily contusions and lacerations on her wrist and ankle. I could call the MTs, but she’s going to feel more comfortable with you.”

“Is this connected to the two women who were murdered?”

“She would’ve been number three. We’ve got him.”

“Good. We’re nearly home. I’ll get my bag.”

“Thanks. I’m putting her in a conference room on my level, and Jenkinson’s with her. Peabody’s going to clear it so you can go straight to her. He had her a week, Louise.”

“Understood. Mira—”

“I’m calling her in.”

“Also good. I’ll see you soon.”

“Peabody, clear them through,” she said when she clicked off.

She stepped into a large room with an attached bath. It had big double windows, privacy screened, facing the street.

She wouldn’t have called it an office, but an HQ.

He had boards set up, one for each victim. Photographs of them at work, on the street, shopping, drinks with a friend. Time sheets, she noted, studying them one by one. Logging each woman’s routines, work schedules, days or nights off. A list of family, friends, coworkers, shops and restaurants most frequented.