Obsession in Death(117)

“We’re going to disarm this now, Lieutenant.”

Eve turned her head to study one of the boomer team. “Say hallelujah. Peabody, once this is disarmed, I want this crazy bitch cleared medically then tossed in a box. We have a lot to talk about.”

“Peabody’s a bit preoccupied,” Roarke replied, and she turned a bit more, saw her partner and the e-geek who loved her in a full body and lip lock.

“Oh, for God’s sake.”

“And we’re clear.” The head of E and B gave the signal. “You can release that, Lieutenant.”

“Be damn sure,” she said as cops cheered. Her hand, sandwiched between Lottie’s and Roarke’s, didn’t want to let go. She managed to unclamp one finger at a time.

Then found herself dragged to her knees to experience a full body and lip lock.

With relief surging through her she gave it a minute – maybe two – before she shoved at Roarke. “On duty.”

“Alive.”

He rested his forehead on hers. Murmured to her in Irish – words he’d translated for her before, and that would’ve mortified her if anyone in the room understood.

“Okay.” She clamped a hand on his a moment, held it tight. “Back at you.” Then she got to her feet, turned first to Reineke. “Nice shot, Detective.”

“Nice jump, boss. Ah hell.”

To her shock he threw his arms around her, lifted her to her toes in a giant bear hug.

“Okay, okay. Hey.”

“Just went back for a cup of christing coffee. Stuck back there, my family out here. I can’t do squat.”

“Going for christing coffee and keeping your head saved your family. So…” She gave him a punch in the shoulder. “Good work. Everybody… take a couple minutes. Settle. And if somebody would get me some christing coffee, I might hug them.”

Her knees felt too fluid – and God, she could use a chair.

But not yet.

“Get her out of our house,” she ordered with another glance at Lottie. “Have her examined and cleared. I want her in the box within the hour. I’m going to take her apart, piece by lunatic piece.”

“Happy New Year.” Peabody, eyes still damp, offered her a cup of coffee.

“Yeah. Hell.” Eve took the coffee, passed it off to Roarke. And hugged her partner.



She took a little time to settle herself. She had to admit to being a little light-headed.

“Have you eaten since breakfast?” Roarke asked her when she dropped into her office chair.

“Maybe not.”

With a sigh, he pulled out his ’link.

“What are you doing?”

“Ordering pizza – for your division – and more for the E and B team. And don’t give me any bloody grief about it. I’m a bit on edge here as I couldn’t get through the bloody, buggering door for more than five minutes – and that was after Feeney started on it before me. And my wife about to be blown to bits on the other side.”

She knew the fear, the soul-emptying terror of it. She’d felt it for him a time or two. All she could do now was try to ease it.

“I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“Weren’t you now?”

“Nope. I wasn’t going to let the last words I said to you be ‘Later, honey.’?”

Since it made him laugh, she sat back, closed her eyes for one blessed moment while she heard him ordering twenty-five (good God!) large pies with a variety of toppings.

She heard the brisk click of heels, opened her eyes, and waited for Mira.

“I’m sorry to intrude.”

“Still on shift,” Eve reminded her.

“Would you like some tea?” Roarke asked, rose.

“Oh God, I would love some. Thank you. I can get it. You should sit.”

“Not at all. I’ll leave the two of you to talk. I have a few threads to tie off. I left my downtown meeting rather abruptly.” He gave Mira the tea, then smiled, bent down, kissed the top of Eve’s head, lingered there. “Pizza in thirty, and you’ll have a slice at least before you take on your prisoner.”

“I could eat.”

Eve waited as Mira sat, gingerly, on the edge of the miserable visitor’s chair. “You’re going to tell me she’s crazy, which isn’t news! but you’re going to add she’s going to skew legally insane. I’m not going to get her locked in an off-planet cage for the rest of her crazy life.”

“No, you’re not. You will get her locked in an institution for the rest of her life.”

“I’m dealing with her first. She had my people. All of my people. She would’ve killed all my cops. Well, maybe Reineke would’ve survived the blast – then he’d never have gotten over surviving it.”

She stopped for a minute, pressed her fingers to her eyes because to her shock and unease, tears burned at them.

“But they were nothing to her, goddamn it. They were nothing to her. She’d worked with them, maybe all of them, at some point. Worked the same crime scene, and she didn’t care. And why, because she has some sort of sick crush on me?”

Mira rose, set the tea on Eve’s desk. “Drink that.” Gently, she brushed a hand over Eve’s hair. “For me.”