Ceremony in Death (In Death #5)(19)

“An accident? No, you’ve made a mistake. It was someone else. It wasn’t Alice.” She clutched at Eve, flooded eyes pleading. “You can’t be sure it was my Alice.”

“It was. I’m sorry.”

She collapsed then, burying her face in her hands, pressing her hands to her knees so her body was balled in a defensive shield.

“I could make her some tea,” Peabody murmured.

“Yeah, go.” It was the part of the job that made Eve feel the most helpless, the most inadequate. There was no solution for fresh grief. “Is there someone I can call for you? Do you want me to contact your mother? Your brother?”

“Mama. Oh God, Alice. How will we bear it?”

There was no answer for that, Eve thought. Yet they would. Life demanded it. “I can give you a soother, or contact your doctor, if you’d prefer.”

“Mom?”

As Brenda continued to rock, Eve looked over. The boy stood in the doorway, blinking sleepy, confused eyes. His hair was tousled from sleep and he wore grubby sweatpants with holes at the knees.

Alice’s brother, Eve remembered. She’d forgotten.

Then he focused on Eve, his eyes suddenly alert, and much too adult. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “What’s happened?”

What the hell was his name? Eve struggled to remember, then decided it didn’t matter at the moment. She rose. He was a tall boy, she realized, with sleep creases in his cheeks and a body already braced to take the worst. “There’s been an accident. I’m sorry but — “

“It’s Alice.” His chin quivered, but his eyes stayed steady on hers. “She’s dead.”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

He continued to stare at her as Peabody came in with a cup of tea, set it awkwardly on the table. “What kind of accident?”

“She was hit by a car early this morning.”

“Hit and run?”

“No.” Eve watched him carefully, considering. “She stepped into the path of a cab. The driver was unable to stop. We’re in the process of analyzing his vehicle and the scene, but there was a witness who corroborates the driver’s statement. I don’t believe he was at fault. He didn’t attempt to flee the scene, and his driving record is clean.”

The boy simply nodded, dry-eyed, while his mother’s weeping filled the room. “I’ll take care of her. It’d be best if you left us alone now.”

“All right. If you have any questions, you can reach me at Cop Central. I’m Lieutenant Dallas.”

“I know who you are. Leave us alone now,” he repeated and went to sit by his mother.

“The kid knows something,” Eve stated as they stepped outside.

“That would be my take. Maybe Alice felt more comfortable talking to him than other members of the family. They were pretty close in age. Brothers and sisters squabble, but they confide in each other.”

“I wouldn’t know.” She started her car, pined for coffee. “Where the hell do you live, Peabody?”

“Why?”

“I’ll drop you at home. You can catch some sleep, report to Central at eleven.”

“Is that what you’re going to do, catch some sleep?”

“Yeah.” That was probably a lie, but it served her purposes. “Which way?”

“I live on Houston.”

Eve winced only a little. “Well, if it’s going to be inconvenient, it might as well be way inconvenient.” She headed south. “Houston? Peabody, you bohemian.”

“It was my cousin’s place. When she decided to move to Colorado and weave rugs, I took it over. Rent control.”

“A likely story. You probably spend all your free time hanging at poetry bars and performance art clubs.”

“Actually, I prefer the mating lounges. Better food.”

“You’d probably get more sex if you didn’t think about it so much.”

“No, I tried that, too.” She yawned, abruptly and hugely. “Sorry.”

“You’re entitled. When you report in, check on the status of the autopsy. I want to be sure there’s nothing weird in the tox report. And make sure to change out of that silly dress.”

Peabody shifted on her seat. “It’s not that silly. A couple guys at the Aquarian seemed to like it. So did Roarke.”

“Yeah, he mentioned it.”

Jaw dropped, Peabody swiveled her head. “He did? Really?”

Foolishness, Eve thought, helped soothe. “He said something about you looking appealing. So I hit him. Just in case.”

“Appealing. Jesus.” Peabody patted her heart. “I’m going to have to dig through some of the other stuff my mother’s made for me. Appealing.” She sighed. “Roarke doesn’t have any brothers, cousins, uncles, does he?”

“As far as I know, Peabody, he’s one of a kind.”

She found him dozing. Not in bed, but on the sofa in the sitting area of the master suite. The moment she stepped into the room, his eyes opened.

“You’ve had a long, rough one, Lieutenant.” He reached out a hand. “Come here.”

“I’m going to grab a shower, some coffee. I’ve got some calls to make.”