Promises in Death (In Death #28)(88)

“You want the hair? Take the hair, but leave the rest of me alone. I’ve got—”

Her ’link beeped. Eve struggled to get her hand under the miles of cape, into the pocket of her dress. Trina just nipped in, pulled it out. “She’s busy,” she snapped even as Eve cursed her.

“Unrecognized voice print. Transmission for Dallas, Lieutenant Eve.”

“Give me that, goddamn it.” Eve grabbed, shoved. “Dallas.”

“Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Report to 509 Pearl Street. Officers on-scene. Body on second floor visually identified as Sandy, Rod, subject of your APB.”

“Is the scene secured?”

“Affirmative.”

“I’m on my way.”

Before Eve finished the statement, Trina had the cape whipped away and the chair back in an upright position. “Should I find Peabody?”

“No, she can stay here. I can handle it. If anyone asks, just say I went to bed.”

“You got it.”

Eve slipped out of the room, started to make a dash.

“Hey, hey!” Spotting her, Peabody set off in staggering pursuit.

“You can’t run away. We’re going to start the vids. You—you’ve got something,” she said when she managed to focus.

“I’ve got it. Go on back. Go handle . . . whatever the hell it is down there.”

“No, sir. I’m with you. I’ve got some Sober-Up with me. I can be level pretty quick. It’s about Coltraine, so I’m with you.”

“All right, but make it quick. I’ve got to go change. And so, by all that’s holy, do you.”

As Eve called for the elevator, Mira hurried over. “What’s wrong?”

“DB ID’d as Sandy. I’ve got to go. She’s got to sober up if she wants in.”

“I want in.”

“Go change,” Mira ordered, and put an arm around Peabody’s waist. “I’ll take care of it. She’ll meet you upstairs.”

“Ten minutes,” Eve snapped. She jumped on the elevator, thinking there was no way in hell her partner would be clean and sober in ten.

And, she thought as she rode up, no matter how hard she’d pushed that day, she’d never had a chance of taking Rod Sandy alive.

18

EVE PEELED OFF THE DRESS, YANKED ON PANTS, shirt, her weapon. She hunted up a short leather jacket and shrugged into it as she jogged downstairs. She realized she’d underestimated Peabody when her partner stepped off the foyer elevator with Mira and Mavis.

“I’m about halfway there,” Peabody told her.

“You’re all the way there when we get to the scene, or you stay in the car. Ah, do whatever you think works downstairs,” she said to Mira.

“Don’t worry. Everything’s under control here.”

“We’re totally on top of it,” Mavis assured her. “I told Summerset the what, so he brought your car around.”

“Good thinking. We’ll be back when we’re back. Peabody.”

Peabody went a little pale when the fresh air slapped her, but got into the car with the minimum of groans.

“If you even think about booting in here—”

“No, I’m past that. Where’s the scene?”

“Building down on Pearl.”

“I’ll be leveled out by the time we . . . Where did you get this vehicle?”

“It’s mine. We’ll be using it from now on.”

“Yours, like yours?” Peabody studied the dash. “Very frosty gadgetry.”

“Use the very frosty gadgetry to map the fastest route to 509 Pearl and to ID the kind of building it is.”

Peabody made the requests. “Three-level, multi-tenant, currently vacant. Rehab pending permits. Do you want the route in-dash or on audio?”

“In-dash. I hate when it talks to you. Inside a vacant building, second floor of. It sounds like the killer didn’t want the body found so fast this time. That building’s outside the Eighteenth’s turf, but not far out. Coltraine’s squad would know the terrain.”

“How about Callendar and Sisto? I need to catch up.”

Eve filled in the blanks, speeding her way downtown.

The building sat squat and sad, a gray slab generously coated with the indignity of graffiti. Windows gaped—mouths with the jagged edges of broken glass like bad teeth. A few were boarded, and more than a few of the boards tipped drunkenly. The bolt and chain on the front door had amused someone enough to take the time to hack it to pieces.

Had it been in perfect repair, it would still have been a joke.

Two black-and-whites nosed together at the curb. A couple of uniforms stood on the shallow concrete platform in front of the entrance, jawing. They broke it off when Peabody and Eve climbed out.

“Homicide,” Eve said, taking out her badge and hooking it on her belt while Peabody got field kits out of the trunk.

“DB’s on the second floor. We’re backup. First-on-scene’s inside. Place is empty—we did a sweep. Brought a coupla lights in, ’cause it’s pitch in there.”

Eve nodded, studied the chain and bolt. “These weren’t compromised tonight.”

“No, sir. We patrol here. It’s been like that a couple months anyway. Funky-junkies flopped here. Owner complained, so we ran ’em off. They just find another hole.”