Abandoned in Death (In Death, #54)(16)

“I don’t want you to worry.”

“Shit, oh shit, maybe me and Number Two should sit down.”

“This is just a precaution, okay? A woman was killed, and her body left on a bench at the playground, the one near you.”

“Oh no, oh God. When?”

“Last night—well, early this morning. It’s my case, Mavis, and Peabody and I are all over it. I’ve even got Nadine doing some research.”

“The poor woman.” Mavis’s eyes, dyed a deep purple, filled. “Was she a neighbor?”

“She worked the stick at Arnold’s, lived a few blocks from there.”

“I know that bar. It’s classy.”

“He wanted a type, and he may want another. You’re not the type.” She thought of Trina, the much-dreaded stylist. “Neither’s Trina if she’s coming and going a lot. But I want you to take precautions. Don’t take Bella to that playground until I have more on this. And you could bring in the security detail you use for gigs. They’re good. Just a precaution.”

“What did he do to her? No, don’t tell me.” Closing her eyes, she breathed deep. “I have to think of Number Two. No bad vibes allowed. I think we’ve got most of the security installed that McNab and Roarke worked out, but I’ll ask Roarke when he gets here later.”

“Good, that’s good. Just … don’t go out walking, you and Bella, by yourselves right now.”

“You think he lives around here?”

Not panic, which Eve had feared, but icy anger.

“I don’t know, but he spent enough time in that neighborhood to choose the dump site. And the bar and the vic’s place aren’t that far. I need some time to work the case.”

“And not worry about me. Don’t. We’ll be careful. Nobody’s going to touch my babies, and Number Two goes wherever I go, right? Get the bastard, Dallas.”

“Count on it.”

“I do. Come by if you can. We’re going to be here all day.”

“I’ll try. And I’ll keep you in the loop as much as I can.”

The faintest smile crossed Mavis’s face. “He sure made a mistake using our playground. Pissed off Lieutenant Dallas.”

“Damn right. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Cha.”

She sat a minute, ridiculously relieved Mavis hadn’t fallen apart. And equally relieved to be sure her oldest friend would take every precaution.

Off the list, she thought.

Then she rose, rolled her shoulders. She programmed coffee, sat again.

And nibbling on her brownie, drinking her coffee, she studied her board.





4





BEFORE


She didn’t know where she was or how she got there. She remembered nothing before waking on the ground, surrounded by trees, with the sun pushing through the thick canopy of leaves and covering her like a blanket soaked in hot water.

And shivering, shivering despite that smothering blanket of heat.

Everything hurt, and her head pounded sickly even as her stomach churned. When she pushed up to her hands and knees, her pounding head spun, and her stomach revolted.

Sweat slicked her skin as she vomited up the vile.

Weeping, she crawled away, then just curled into a ball, waiting to die.

But she didn’t.

Chills racked her so her teeth clacked together, and, when they passed, more sweat poured, ran down her body like a river. The sickness cycled back until there was nothing left, and she lay exhausted, throat burning.

And somehow she slept.

She woke burning with fever, racked with chills, and this time prayed to die.

Without sense or purpose, she managed to gain her feet, took a few stumbling steps. When she fell, she waited for the sickness to come again, but there was only pain and that terrible heat.

So she pushed to her feet again. She saw nothing to tell her where she was, which way to go, so she walked blindly.

She couldn’t say how long she walked, forced time and again to stop and rest. She feared she walked in circles. She saw birds, squirrels, knuckles of trees poking out of brown water. And the things that swam in it, silently.

But not another human being.

She knew she was a human being, a girl, a woman, but beyond that she had nothing to anchor her.

She didn’t remember driving into the lake, or the sudden wild panic that had her fighting her way out of the submerged car, swallowing water, thrashing her way to the surface.

She certainly didn’t remember a little boy left sleeping and alone in front of an empty church.

She was alone, and too sick, too tired to think of before.

She fell asleep again, and woke in the dark, woke freezing this time.

The air—so thick—seemed to clog her lungs so her breathing wheezed. And the wheezing led to horrible spells of agonizing coughing.

Insects buzzed around her, biting until every inch of her skin burned and itched. She scratched and scratched until she bled, and the blood drew more to bite and swarm.

She tried calling out, but her voice was a croak, no louder than the frogs.

She walked and wept, walked and wept. And finally just walked, shuffling like a zombie, and jolting at each sound.

The hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves. She waited for something to leap out of the dark and consume her.