Indulgence in Death (In Death #31)(9)

“Come on, Lieutenant.” Roarke took her hand. “You’re in charge. How are things at the pub, Brian?”

“Oh, much the same. I pull the pints, listen to the gossip and the woes.” He winked over Eve’s head at his friend. “It’s the quiet life for me now.”

“How do you say bullshit in Irish?” Eve wondered.

“Now, Lieutenant darling, I’m a reformed man since this one led me onto the wayward path in my youth. You come to Dublin again soon, see for yourself. I’ll stand you both to all you can drink.”

They walked easily, though the boy raced back and forth urging them to hurry. Eve heard the dogs now, high, excited, insistent barking.

“Why are dogs always running off to find something to sniff at, pee on, or chase?”

“Every day’s a holiday when you’re a dog,” Brian observed. “Especially when there’s a boy in the mix.”

When they reached the verge of the trees she resigned herself to tromping through nature—a dangerous bitch in her opinion.

Moss grew green on rock and tree with sunlight filtering with a greenish hue through the leaves. Gnarled branches twisted themselves into strange shapes as they rose up or spread out.

“Mind the faeries,” Brian said with a grin. “Christ, it’s been years since I stepped into a country wood. Roarke, do you remember when we skinned those Germans in the hotel, then hid out for two days with travelers in the wood down in Wexford till the heat was off?”

“Jesus, I’m standing right here,” Eve pointed out. “Cop.”

“There was that girl,” Brian continued, unabashed. “Ah, the sultry beauty. And no matter how I tried to charm her, she only had eyes for you.”

“Again, right here. Married.”

“It was long ago and far away.”

“You lost half your take at dice before we were done there,” Roarke reminded him.

“I did, yes, but had a fine time.”

“Where’s the kid?” Eve stopped a moment.

“He’s just run ahead a bit,” Roarke said. “He’s having an adventure.”

They heard him call out. “There you are, you great stupids!”

“And he’s got the dogs.”

“Good, he can bring them back or whatever.” She stood where she was, scanning. “Is it creepy in here, or is it just me?”

“Just you, darling.” Roarke started to call Sean back, when he heard the sound of running. “Here he comes.”

The boy flew down the path, the freckles standing out starkly on his white face, his eyes huge. “You have to come.”

“Is one of the dogs hurt?” Roarke moved forward, but the boy shook his head, grabbed Eve’s arm.

“Hurry. You have to see.”

“See what?”

“Her. The dogs found her.” He pulled and dragged. “Please. She’s awfully dead.”

Eve started to snap something, but the look in Sean’s eyes killed annoyance, awoke instinct. The kid wasn’t having a harmless adventure now. “Show me.”

“An animal,” Brian began, “or a bird. Dogs will find the dead.”

But Eve let Sean guide her off the rough path, through the thickets, over moss-coated rocks to where the dogs sat, quiet now, quivering.

“There.”

Sean pointed, but she’d already seen.

The body lay belly down, one high-heeled shoe tipping loosely off the right foot. The face, livid with bruising, was turned toward her, eyes filmed, sightless as the pale green light showered down.

The kid was right, she thought. That was awfully dead.

“No.” She yanked him back when he took another step forward. “That’s close enough. Keep those dogs away. They’ve already compromised the scene.”

Her hand automatically reached up for the recorder that wasn’t on her lapel. So, she etched the scene in her mind.

“I don’t know who the hell to call in around here.”

“I’ll see to it.” Roarke pulled out his pocket ’link. “Brian, take Sean and the dogs back, would you?”

“No. I’m staying.” Sean dug in, hands fisted at his sides. “I found her, so I should stay with her. Someone killed her. Someone killed her and left her alone. I found her so I have to look after her now.”

Before Roarke could object, Eve turned to the boy. She’d thought to dismiss him, but something on that young, freckled face changed her mind. “If you stay, you have to do what you’re told.”

“You’re in charge.”

“That’s right.” Until the locals got there. “Did you touch her? Don’t lie, it’s important.”

“I didn’t. I swear. I saw the dogs, and I ran up. Then I saw her, and I tried to yell, but . . .” He flushed a little. “I couldn’t make anything come out. I made the dogs come away from her, and sit, and stay.”

“You did just right. Do you know her?”

He shook his head, slowly, solemnly, from side to side. “What do we do?”

“You already secured the scene, so we keep it secured until the police come.”

“You’re the police.”

“I don’t have authority here.”