Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(48)

“Did you see her again, after that?”

“Once, not long after—few days maybe. She had on the scarf and was stalking some tourists. I didn’t say anything to the beat cops.” He shrugged. “I figure she’s just trying to get through, right? That’s different than the bad guys.”

“All right. I’m going to send the pictures to your ’link, and I need the exact location of your downtown stall.”

“She get dead, too?”

“No.”

“She do something you gotta arrest her for?”

“No.”

“In trouble then?”

“Yes, she’s in trouble. I want to find her, get her out of trouble.”

“Anybody can, it’s gonna be you. But you need these shades. They’re badass. I’ll give you a cop discount.”

She bought the shades, got the stall location, transferred the photos to his ’link.

“Thanks for the help.”

He just pointed at the shades she’d slipped on. “Badass.”

“Check it.”

On the way back to her car, she ordered up some uniforms to canvass a four-block radius around the downtown stall location. If Tiko had spotted Dorian twice, someone else must have seen her.

The orange-and-black scarf wouldn’t hurt pinning a sighting.

Tiko added weight to what she already firmly believed. Dorian had been abducted from New York. And now, the most logical conclusion targeted that abduction after Thanksgiving and before Christmas.

Wouldn’t she have roamed the same area? And if so, Tiko—sharp eyes, quick brain—would’ve seen her again.

Either way, she thought, and launched the battle with traffic again, Mina’s abduction came first, and by at least a few weeks.

She contacted Peabody to relay the information.

“Tiko? Jeez! That’s a serious break. I never thought of him as a possible source.”

“I nearly didn’t. We might get lucky, hit more sightings, pinpoint the abduction time and location. At least get closer.”

“And if she got away, maybe she’d go back to the familiar, to that area. Maybe she had a hole downtown, and near enough to Tiko’s stall for him to spot her twice.”

“We’ll see what the uniforms dig up.”

“We’re going to stick in the lab awhile, then take a break and go by the house. We’ll run some auto-searches from home after.”

“Just keep it coming. I’m nearly home. I’ll pick it up from there. If anything pops from the uniforms, we’ll follow up in the morning. I’ll let you know.”

Eve clicked off. It felt like movement, she thought. Maybe a direction.

And when the gates opened for her, she thought of Roarke.

How much did she include him in this one? She had Feeney and EDD all over it, but … He had his own way, and that way proved invaluable time after time.

What felt like movement meant she couldn’t afford to push aside anything or anyone who could inch the movement forward.

She studied the house, the elegance, the fantasy of it against the summer-blue sky. Almost always, just the wonder of it lowered her stress level.

This evening, it lifted it.

Stupid, she admitted. Roarke would deal just as she would. As they would.

But with this, she didn’t bring only death into their house, but the misery of the past with it.

It weighed on her as she went in.

But instead of Summerset and the cat looming in the foyer, she saw Roarke with Galahad.

“It’s a visual illusion. Like a holo.” She peered down at the cat as he jogged to her. “Maybe you’re not you, either.”

“Summerset’s having an early dinner with Ivanna before a night at the theater.” Now he walked over, kissed her.

“Even an illusion or holo tech couldn’t make Summerset do that, like that. I guess you’re you.”

“On the other hand, look at you, Lieutenant, in those shades.”

“Badass, right? That was the sales pitch.”

“Definitely.”

Studying her face, he skimmed a finger down the dent in her chin. “Let’s have a glass of wine on the patio. You can tell me what’s brewing in here.” He tapped a finger to her temple. “Then we’ll go up and deal with it.”

“I didn’t want to bring it home to you.”

“Bring yourself home to me, and anything that comes with you is fine.”

More her problem, she thought, so much more hers than his. So she leaned into him, held on to him. “Let’s just do this for a minute first.”

“Are you hurting?” he murmured.

“I’m not. I promise, I’m not. It’s in there, I know it, but I have a grip on it. It’s different now that I know I can get a grip on it. I’m okay if you are.”

“And I am.”

“Then I’d like to sit outside for a bit. I think, maybe, we caught a break. I don’t know if it’ll open it up, but I think it’s a break. And,” she continued as they began to walk to the back, “I could use your help. I wasn’t going to ask—didn’t want to—because I didn’t want to bring it home.”

“Does it make it easier if I tell you it helps me when you ask?”