Purity in Death (In Death #15)(41)

"Seals can be broken, Miss Price. It'll take me time, but I can get an order to open the files for this investigation."

"I understand that." Clarissa lifted both hands again. "And when you have that authorization, I'll help you in any way the law allows. But I work with these victims every day, and it's difficult enough to gain the trust of kidswho've already been hurt by an adult, to gain the trust of their families, even to find family members who give a damn. I can't help you until I'm ordered to."

"Did you ever have personal contact with Cogburn or Fitzhugh?"

"Professional contact. I gave statements to the P.A. on both men. That is, on the psychological damage done to the minors in my case file who'd had dealings with them. I never spoke with either of them, and I won't pretend to be sorry they're no longer around to hunt more children."

"Mary Ellen George."

Clarissa's face closed up. "She was acquitted."

"Should she have been?"

"A jury of her peers thought so."

"Have you had personal contact with her?"

"Yes. I had occasion to visit and examine the conditions of her day care facility, and I cooperated and worked with the police who ultimately arrested her. She was very convincing. Very . . . motherly."

"But she didn't convince you."

"This job requires a certain instinct, just as yours does. I knew what she was." A cold disgust, bordering on rage, hardened Price's features. "You win battles and you lose them. Losing's hard, but if you don't move on to the next in this field, you'll burn out. And I have to move on to the next now. I have another session, and I'm already late."

"I appreciate the time." Eve stepped to the door. "I will get that authorization, Miss Price."

"When you do, I'm at your disposal."

Outside, Eve ignored the knotted traffic fighting its way around her vehicle. She didn't bother to respond to the horns, the curses, the variety of obscene gestures. She just climbed in.

"She's by the book," Peabody began as Eve shoved into traffic. "But she'll be helpful once you get authorization."

"She's holding more than sealeds under her hands. She knew who I was and pretended not to."

"How do you know she knew who you were?"

"She watches 75 routinely. You watch 75 routinely, you're going to see me. You sure as hell saw me this morning-during the report she admitted watching-when I did the one-on-one. She played it a little too cautious not mentioning that."

Eve swung west, barely missed nipping the bumper of a Rapid Cab. "Clarissa Price goes to the top of the short list."

Chapter 9

Jamie was working hard to act cool. Everything he wanted in his life had fallen so unexpectedly into his lap he was terrified he'd do something to blow it away again. As far as Jamie was concerned electronics made the world go around. There was only one thing he wanted more than to work with them. That was to work with them as a cop.

Thanks to Roarke, he was getting that chance. Sort of. And on a homicide investigation that was baffling the premium ult cop.

It didn't get better.

Well, it would've been better if he'd had a badge and rank. But tech assist to the expert consultant was an air-boot in the door.

He was going to make it count.

He dug on working with Feeney, that was for sure. Uncle Feen was the total e-cop, with all kinds of stories about shit that went on before there was an EDD.

And McNab was totally iced. He talked a lot of trash, but he knew his 'Ironies. Jamie thought he was pure hero stuff now that he'd been wounded in the line. Here he was half-frozen and pushing on with the job.

That's what cops did.

That's what Dallas did. Nothing stopped her. No matter what, she stood up. Like she had for his grandfather, and for Alice.

It still hurt, thinking about his sister. He knew his mother was never going to get over it, not all the way over it. Maybe you weren't supposed to.

Sometimes when he looked back to everything that had happened last fall, it was like a dream. Especially the end of it. All the smoke and the fire in that horrible room where that bastard Alban had taken Dallas after he'd drugged her.

Smoke and fire and blood, and the bitch Selina lying dead on the floor. Roarke and Alban fighting like wild dogs, and Dallas yelling at him to get the knife, get the knife to cut her loose from where Alban had strapped her naked to some kind of altar.

He'd cut the bonds, but he'd felt cold. Cold all over in spite of the smoke. And naked, still groggy from the drugs, Dallas had leaped right off the slab onto Alban's back.

Dreamy, it was all so weird and dreamy. He'd seen Roarke's fist fly up, knock Alban unconscious. He'd heard the sirens coming, he'd heard Roarke and Dallas talking-not words, just sounds. The fire crackling, the smoke stinging.

And the knife in his hand.

She'd shouted when she'd seen what he was going to do. But it was too late. She couldn't have stopped him. He couldn't have stopped himself.

The bastard who had killed his family was dead, and his blood hot on Jamie's hands.

He couldn't remember actually doing it. Not the moment, not the instant when he'd plunged the blade into Alban's heart. It was like some time blip, and he couldn't remember.