Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(96)

“It’s why you’re here.”

“Well, hot damn. I’ve got to kick somebody’s ass now that I know I stood at that damn counter and there were girls … Son of a bitch.”

“We’ll get them out. Give me ten, Willowby.”

“Yeah, sure. I gotta walk off the mad.”

When Willowby left and they were alone, Eve turned to Roarke.

“You can’t worry about me. I’m talking about my mental and emotional state. I’m handling it, and I’m going to keep handling it.”

“Until?”

“Until it’s done. I’m going to say, here, to you, that even though I know it shouldn’t, my mental and emotional state need to get this done. And I’m going to say we wouldn’t be here, where I know we can get it done, without you. I couldn’t have gotten here without you. I don’t only mean the e-work. I mean knowing you’d be there if I got shaky. So I’m telling you I won’t get shaky. We, every one of us, have to be on top of this, every step of it, every contingency, every unknown—and there are too many of them. We have to, or it won’t get done.”

He took his hands out of his pockets, where his fingers had toyed with her old gray button, and put them on her shoulders.

“You’re steady as they come. If I had worries about that, you put them to rest an hour ago. Still, you’re so bloody tired.”

“Hence the booster. What the hell kind of word is hence?”

He just gathered her in, rested his cheek on top of her head. “Promise me something. If, after it’s done, you need to feel shaky, you’ll let yourself.”

“After it’s done. And you’re good with your parts in this?”

“I am. I’m with you, Lieutenant, before, during, and after.”

“I’m going to say I love you, then we need to break this up.”

“I’m going to say I love you.” He tipped her face up to his, kissed her. “And now we can break this up. Temporarily.”

“Let’s plan—when it’s done—on getting a bunch of sleep, then having a bunch of wine, then having a bunch of sex.”

“Sex, sleep, wine, more sex.”

“I can agree to that. Break,” she said, and stepped back, stared at the screen. “It’s going to work.”

“I believe that. I had a change of clothes brought in for you. They’re in your locker. You’ll feel better if you take ten minutes for yourself.”

“Probably would. Shower, change, boost. Okay, thanks. Looks like you grabbed the first two of those already.”

“I did, so I can attest you’ll feel better for doing the same.”

“I’ll be back in ten.”

She made a beeline for the locker room, and decided if the stingy piss-trickle of almost hot water in the shower felt like luxury, she’d needed it.

And the fact that Roarke had provided, in his Roarke way, a black shirt and trousers, fresh boots, a thin black jacket with magic lining told her he understood she wanted the take-no-bullshit state of mind.

In under ten she headed back to the conference room.

She caught the scent from ten feet away.

Bacon, coffee, sugar.

And from the sound of voices, cops who’d beat her back had dived right in.

Once again the Roarke way, she thought when she stepped in. Thermal dishes and platters huddled on the conference table. One look at the mountain of fluffy scrambled eggs told her he hadn’t ordered the fake stuff from Central’s Eatery.

Bacon, sausage, bagels, and damn it, she recognized the sticky buns from Jacko’s.

She watched the e-team along with Peabody, Willowby, Baxter, and Trueheart piling plates with all of it. Before she could speak, Jenkinson and Reineke barreled in behind her.

“Now this is what I call a briefing!” So saying, Jenkinson zeroed in on the sticky buns.

It was hard to blame him.

With a smile, Roarke brought her one of her own.

“I’m going to have a rescue/takedown team loaded with food.”

“Fueled,” he corrected. “Make sure you eat some eggs.”

Since it was right there, she bit into the sticky bun.

They streamed in. She gestured Lowenbaum and the two cops with him to the table. Found that nicety unnecessary with Santiago, Carmichael, and the uniforms.

Then Mira came in with Jamie Lingstrom—Feeney’s godson, summer intern, college kid. Eve just pointed at him.

“Cap asked me to come in and run the screen for the briefing,” he began.

“And I added to that.” Mira gave Jamie’s arm a pat. “He’s closer in age to the victims you’ll get out, and may be able to help reassure and keep them calm.”

“You can work in here, in the van, and with Dr. Mira. You’re not on the takedown. Not this time,” she said when he started to object. “But you’ll free up McNab, and that’s going to help. Take it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Eat. I’m waiting for the commander, then we roll.”

It’s not a damn party, she thought as Jamie spotted the sticky buns and let out a “Woo!”

“These girls will feel disoriented, afraid, displaced.” Now Mira laid a hand on Eve’s arm. “We can’t know how deep the indoctrination goes for some of them, how deep the trauma. Having Jamie, and Willowby for that matter, as she looks younger than she is, may help. It doesn’t end at getting them out.”