Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)(107)

“And how is Santiago?”

“Twenty-two stitches—some muscle involved there—and a couple weeks of desk duty. He’s the worst of it. Some nicks, some bruises. We got lucky.”

“No.” It annoyed him enough to turn her around to face him. “Lucky my ass, Lieutenant. You did the job, step-by-step. This could’ve been a war zone. You made sure it wasn’t.”

“The war’s not over. Abernathy reports the island is mostly contained, but mostly isn’t all. It’s a lot bigger than this compound. Same goes for the farm system.

“On the other hand,” she added as they walked out, “the Huffmans are in custody, so are Po and Harstead, Wexford. I’m having Gwen brought in for another round. I’d really like to work something on her that sticks, but I don’t see that happening. We’ve got the Pooles.”

“You have the Wilkeys.”

“Yeah, we’ve got the fucking Wilkeys.” Her face went fierce. “Every one of them.”

Outside, lights lit the compound like noon. Cops swarmed everywhere, clearing buildings, searching for hidey-holes, grid-searching the grounds. She signaled to the Crime Scene van.

“It’s all yours.”

“I expected to find you exhausted,” Roarke commented. “And you’re the opposite.”

“Got another wind. I don’t know which number wind this is, but I’ve got it. Teasdale and I worked some things out. I get to interview Wilkey before she takes him. I get Mirium Wilkey, then she’ll toss in the federal charges, but I get her first. I get Piper, the Huffmans, Po, Harstead, Wexford, the Pooles, and so on. Everyone will do their federal rounds, but first they’re mine.”

“The FBI wouldn’t have this without you.”

“I wouldn’t have it without them, so that’s a wash. Our sweepers and EDD will work with the feds to process this place, and the facilities outside the complex. Our PA will work with federal prosecutors. Then there’s the international aspect, but right now, I’m focusing on two murders and the abductions and enforced imprisonment in my city.”

Medical vans worked on-site to treat and evaluate. Police wagons loaded prisoners. Eve spotted the gate guard—in restraints, sporting a black eye—and felt another little lift to her spirit.

He spotted her, too. He elbow-jabbed the cop loading him into the van, and rushed Eve like a bull.

She didn’t bother to reach for her weapon, held up a hand to stop anyone else from stunning him. And let him come.

All she had to do was sidestep the charge and trip him—but the added uppercut gave her an even higher lift.

He fell like a tree and skidded a foot or so on his face.

“We’ll bury you, bitch! We’ll bury you.”

“You’re the one eating dirt, asshole. Add another charge of assaulting an officer and resisting arrest to his slate,” she told the uniforms who dragged him up again.

“Big man,” the uniform snarled. “Had a stunner, and hit my partner with a stream, then grabbed his own kid—eight years old—and tried to use the kid as a shield. Kid gave him the shiner.”

“Good for him.”

“Her,” the uniform corrected, and muscled the guard into the van.

At the gates, Eve saw Whitney conferring with Teasdale. And Nadine, outside those gates, doing a one-on-one with Tibble, with the compound, the activity at his back.

“Commander, Special Agent, the compound is secure. Joint teams are processing. At last count we have six hundred and thirty-two adults and fourteen hundred and eighteen minors moved or being moved out. APA Reo and the reps from the federal prosecutor’s office, the state’s attorney’s office are running tabs on the number of arrests and charges. Child Protective Services is conducting interviews and evaluations.”

Whitney held up a hand to stop Eve’s report. “Do you wish to remain here overseeing this cleanup operation?”

“Sir, I’d prefer to call my division back into Central and start the interview process.”

“Done. This was good work, Lieutenant. Down the line good work.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’ll remain here,” Teasdale told her. “And touch base with you later today.” She paused as Conroy raced over.

“They found him. Tony—Agent Quirk. He’s alive. In bad shape, but alive.”

“Where?” Teasdale demanded.

“The farm system, somewhere in Iowa. They had him in a cell, shackled in a cell. Had a shock collar on him. Beaten, tortured, but alive.”

He turned to Eve, held out a hand.

“That’s good news, Conroy.” She shook it.

“He’s a friend of mine. He’s got internal injuries, and the medical I talked to said without treatment, he wouldn’t have lasted another forty-eight. He’s alive because we pushed on this tonight. I thought it was a mistake. I was wrong.”

“I’ve been wrong once or twice myself. I need to speak with Nadine, Commander, then I’ll be at Central.”

“We’ll need to schedule a media conference later this morning,” Whitney told her. “Kyung will coordinate with you. No good deed,” he added.

“Yes, sir.” She walked over to Nadine, who’d concluded her one-on-one with Tibble.