Origin in Death (In Death #21)(75)



"Keep each line focused on its work. Limit or eliminate fraternizing and shop talk. Deny access to all but the top level. Not inefficient if you want to keep dicey stuff wrapped."

She rolled it around in her head, then peered through the rain. "There'd be room there to close off a sector from the rest. Room for ... what do you call the having-a-baby area of medicine."

"Obstetrics," Louise answered.

"The patient room I saw was like a high-end hotel suite. So maybe you keep your human incubators in-house, in style, segregated from the general population. Peabody, run a list. See what graduates got themselves medical degrees-highlight obstetrics and pediatrics."

"Warrant's coming through." Reo had a small, bulky briefcase unit in her lap. As it started to hum, her face brightened. "We're good to go."

"Need to practice, though," Eve mumbled. "Practice makes perfect. School's all about practice. Gotta have something going there."

"Hopefully, we'll soon see." Roarke tapped controls. "Starting descent."

She saw it shimmer out through the damp mists and splattering rain. Red brick and domes and sky walks. Stone walls and denuded trees. The dull blue of a swimming pool covered for the season, the bright green and white of tennis courts. Paths snaked through the gardens and grounds, for scooters, she thought, for walks or bikes or mini-shuttles. She saw horses, and to her shock what she recognized as cows in an outdoor enclosure.

"Cows. Why are there cows?"

"Animal husbandry, I imagine," Roarke commented.

The term gave her a horror flash of humans marrying bovines. She shook it off.

"Cops. We've got cops. Three units, and an ME van. Goddamn it."

Not state, she decided, trying to get a bead on the vehicles and uniforms as Roarke angled toward the helipad. County, she decided. Probably county. She yanked out her PPC and did a quick search for the local police.

"James Hyer, sheriff. Age fifty-three, born and bred this county. Did four years regular army, right out of school. Had the badge twenty years, current status the last twelve. Married eighteen years, one offspring, male-a Junior-age fifteen."

She studied his ID image as well as his basic data to try to get a bead on him as well. Fleshy face, ruddy. Maybe liked the outdoors and the local brew. Military haircut, light brown. Eyes light blue, plenty of crow's-feet. So he didn't go in for the face treatments, looked his age and maybe a few extra.

She was already yanking off her safety strap as Roarke touched down. She was out, striding toward the school before the two uniforms were able to reach the pad.

"This is a secured area," one of them began. "You're going to need to-"

"Lieutenant Dallas." Eve flipped up her badge. "NYPSD. I need to speak with Sheriff Hyer. Is he on-scene?"

"This isn't New York." The second uniform stepped forward- leading, Eve thought dryly, with his balls. "The sheriff's busy."

"That's funny, so am I. APA Reo?"

"We have a warrant to enter any and all of these facilities," Reo began, and held up the copy she'd printed out. "To search same for evidence pertaining to two homicides in the State of New York, borough of Manhattan."

"We have a secured scene," the second uniform repeated, an; planted his feet.

"Name and rank," Eve snapped.

"Gaitor, Deputy, James County Sheriffs Department." He sneered when he said it, and Eve allowed him to keep his skin, due to the possibility that he was just dirt stupid.

"You're going to want to check with your superior, Deputy Gaitor, or I will detain you and charge you with obstruction of justice."

"You don't have any authority here."

"This warrant gives me authority to fill out its terms and requirements, which were agreed to by the State of New Hampshire. So you're going to contact your boss, Gaitor, within the next ten seconds, or I'm going to take you down, cuff you, and toss your idiotic, puffed-up ass in the nearest confinement facility."

She saw it in his eyes, saw the twitch of his hand. "You reach for that weapon, Deputy, and you won't have use of your hand for a week. But you won't need it as I'll have twisted your undersized dick into a pretzel so even the thought of jerking off will cause you unspeakable pain."

"Jesus, Max, ease back." The first deputy took his fellow by the arm. "I contacted the sheriff, Lieutenant. He's coming out. We can walk over and meet him."

"Appreciate it."

"I love watching her work," Roarke commented to Feeney.

"Was kind of hoping that ass**le would reach for his weapon. Better show that way."

"Maybe next time."

Gaitor strode ahead, intercepting a man Eve recognized as Hyer. Hyer listened, shook his head. Then he pulled off his hat, rubbed his hand over his head before jabbing a finger toward one of the patrol cars.

Gaitor peeled off, stiff-legged. Hyer walked toward Eve.

"What's New York doing dropping out of the sky in that big, black son of a bitch?"

"Search warrant, relating to two homicides on my turf. Lieutenant Dallas," she added, offering a hand. "Homicide, NYPSD."

"Jim Hyer, sheriff. And ain't this a kick in the gonads? You threaten to manhandle and detain my deputy, New York City?"

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