Devoted in Death (In Death #41)(87)

“It’s fifteen-thirty here, Lieutenant.”

“How can it – never mind. Check the former residence, then head to the prison. We’ve had some hits here. I’ll send you a report. Good work.”

Eve cruised the streets, noted the pizzeria, the Chinese restaurant. Since double-parking would draw attention, she paid the freight for a lot, covered the same ground on foot, found the hardware, the 24/7, the boutique, the pawnshop, flashed the photos at other shop owners, at glide-cart operators.

They’re here, she thought, scanning faces, vehicles, buildings. She only needed one of them to step outside their nest. Go out for food, a six-pack of beer.

But she saw nothing of them, and walked back to her car.

She drove home thinking Campbell and Mulligan might be trapped in one of the buildings she’d passed, and that thought clawed at her through the miserable traffic and the icy sleet that began to fall.

She wanted home and the quiet, craved it like water after a drought. Just an hour of quiet where no one talked to her, fed her data, looked to her for the answers.

She dragged herself into the warmth.

“Early and alone?” Summerset gave her a long, cool look out of dark eyes.

She found she didn’t have the energy to take a swipe at him.

“They’ll be piling in later.”

The cat padded over to bump against her leg, but she just turned to the stairs, started up without taking off her coat.

Summerset went directly to the house intercom. “I believe the lieutenant has hit a wall. She’s on her way up.”

“I’ll look after her,” Roarke said.

No doubt, Summerset thought, and noted the cat had followed her up.

When she stepped into the bedroom, Roarke saw it. Exhaustion – if not physical, mental. The momentum since the morning, all the push, the rush, the progress, and she had yet to cross the finish line.

With two people’s lives depending on it.

He could feel the weight she carried.

“I didn’t know you were home, too.” She tossed a file bag on the sofa of the sitting area. “And early.”

“A bit.” He adjusted his plans to finish up some work before dinner. “How many cops in the house?”

“Just me. They’ll be coming later. An hour or two, I’d say. Sorry.”

“An hour or two will do it. I was thinking a swim would be nice. Now I don’t have to swim alone.”

“I really have to —”

“Decompress,” he finished. “We’ll both work better, be sharper, for the break.”

“I don’t think Campbell and Mulligan are getting a break.” She heard the angry snap in her voice, held up a hand so he wouldn’t snap back. “That’s wrong, just wrong, and I know better. I could feel it breaking all day, all damn day, but…”

Take an hour, Mira had advised her. Sometimes you had to listen.

“I could use a swim. I could use an hour with you, not talking about all this.”

“I could use the same.”

“Give me a sec.”

She stripped off her coat, her weapon harness, and after a moment’s thought, sat to take off her boots. Then she stood, reached for his hand. “Let’s go.”

When they stepped into the elevator, he turned her face to his, kissed her. “Welcome home.”

“Same to you.” Then she sighed, leaned her head on his shoulder because she could, she could do that with him without being weak.

Small, daily miracles.

“My brain’s tired.”

“I know, and you’ve the beginnings of a headache. I can see it.”

“Is that why they’re so blue? X-ray eyes?”

“Where you’re concerned.”

“I don’t need a blocker, just some quiet. I talked to a half a million people today, most of them at least twice. You probably did double that.”

“And won’t the quiet hour be good for both of us?”

They stepped out, into and through the tropical bliss of plants and dwarf trees toward the deep blue water.

“God, that looks really good.”

“What are you doing?” he asked as she opened a case.

“Getting a suit.”

“Whatever for?”

“Look, I know I said an hour or two, and probably, but what if cops come early? And what if one of those cops thinks, just like we did: Hey, a swim would be nice. I’m not risking naked.”

“If you want privacy…” He took the suit out of her hand, set it aside. “It only takes blocking the elevator from this level, which I did.”

“Blocking the elevator.” Absently, she rubbed at the headache between her eyes. “Why didn’t I think of that? They can’t get in here?”

“They could if McNab decided to bypass, which would be a bit of a challenge for him. But I believe we can trust him to respect our privacy.”

So saying, he tugged up her sweater.

She considered McNab, bypassing, then nodded. “No, he wouldn’t do that. One question,” she added as she took off her trousers, “before the quiet.”

“I can handle one question.”

“How can it be one hour earlier in Oklahoma than it is here, and be the same time it is here in the Bahamas? Oklahoma’s in the same damn country as we are, right? It’s America. And the Bahamas aren’t. You don’t have to be a geography whiz to know the Bahamas aren’t in the U.S. and Oklahoma is. So why, for God’s sake? How?”