Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(23)

“Perhaps she had a recent relapse, as often happens.”

“No mandatory testing?”

“She had completed the program.”

“Perhaps she had a recent relapse,” Eve repeated.

“And we will look into the matter.”

“A little late for that, isn’t it, since Dorian hasn’t been in that apartment since sometime around August of last year.”

Truman’s pointy little chin jutted up. “I was not aware of that circumstance.”

“It’s your job to be aware.”

Annoyance flashed, and Truman’s thin lips vanished as she pressed them together. “I won’t tell you how to do your job, you won’t tell me how to do mine. Minor female Gregg—”

“She has a name. She has a goddamn name.”

“Be sure I’ll report your language,” Truman responded with a sharp nod. “I do not refer to charges by name in order to keep a professional distance. She is a difficult, recalcitrant child,” Truman continued. “And as you can see from my files, and her juvenile record, has a history of truancy, of running away, of petty theft.”

Eve found the words, the tone, the voice pounding in her head. Except for the petty theft, Truman might have spoken of minor female Dallas.

“There’s also documentation of sporadic physical and verbal abuse of the custodial parent by the minor female.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I won’t tolerate that language. You have copies of my files, so we’re done here.”

“Sit your tight ass down, Truman, or I’ll not only see you’re cited for dereliction of duty, I’ll bring charges of my own and toss you in a cage.”

“You threaten me!”

“I promise you. Whatever your files say, you haven’t conducted a home visit for months.”

“I certainly have.”

“Not with Dorian present. And if in those files you claim otherwise, or claim to have spoken to her since last August, I’ll charge you with conspiracy to defraud the government.”

“I’m not a criminal!” She squawked it, and made Eve think of the chickens on the Brody family farm.

“I’m a public servant. I had no idea the female—the child,” she amended, “wasn’t in parental custody. Ms. Gregg said they were trying tutors and homeschooling, and it was working better.”

“And isn’t it your duty to speak to the child?”

“The child was, as I said, difficult. And very, very rude to me. I had no reason not to trust the custodial parent.”

“A woman with a history of illegal and alcohol abuse. One reported to you by witnesses of striking Dorian.”

Truman lifted her chin. “Neighbors have agendas, and will gossip.”

“Did you ever see bruises on Dorian?”

“She’s a clumsy child, and in addition, often got into physical altercations with other children.”

“Who says?”

Truman looked away. “Her custodial parent.”

“The one smacking her around, booting her out of the apartment when she wanted alone time with her newest ‘date,’ the one pulling in a monthly check even when the kid doesn’t come home for months? The one who never bothered to file a missing persons report on her own daughter, send up an Amber Alert? That custodial parent?”

“Obviously Ms. Gregg wasn’t forthcoming and failed to inform me, and the authorities. Naturally, she’ll be disqualified as a professional parent, and I will certainly recommend foster care for the child.”

“The missing child. The child who may be dead because you couldn’t be bothered to do your job.”

“I did my job!” Truman’s face bloomed red at the accusation. “You have no idea what goes into my job! The stress, the hours, the unruly, difficult children, the careless parents and guardians. I’m not responsible if that girl ran off again, or if she met a bad end because of it. She had choices, and made poor ones.”

With everything inside her burning dark, Eve got slowly to her feet. “Now would be a really good time for you to leave.”

“I will not have some—some New York City bully accuse me of—”

“You need to get out, and now.”

“I’ll be reporting this treatment, your language, and your behavior.”

“Yeah? Same goes. Now get the fuck out of my house.”

Moving fast, she got out.

“Peabody, get me that fucking negligent asshole excuse for a human being’s supervisor. Get me her boss. Now.”

“I’ll do that, but do me a favor, and take five minutes first. Just five minutes,” Peabody repeated, standing up and standing firm when Eve rounded on her.

“I feel what you feel. You feel more of it, I get that, but I feel it. I wanted to pound her with my fists, choke her till she popped, then kick what was left of her into squirmy pulp. She needs to be reported, she needs to be fired, and I think, I really think, brought up on charges. But that part, that last part’s not our call.”

She could barely find her breath. All she could find was rage.

“Fuck that.”

“I want to fuck that, I do. And if you’d told me to toss her in a cage, I’d’ve done it. Hopefully you’d have covered me when she sued our asses off for it, but I’d’ve done it either way. It’s not that she didn’t help Dorian, and who knows how many others, but that they weren’t kids to her. They were just charges. Nameless charges.”