Survivor In Death (In Death #20)(70)



He lifted his hands, let them fall again as he sat back. “The lives they had are destroyed. They may build another--I hope they do. But it won't ever be the same. Nixie's part of what they lost. They can't-- won't--have that reminder. I'll do whatever I can for Nixie. I can probably swing temporary custody. I'll speak with the blood relative she has left, see if that's the right direction.”

“I'll need you to keep me apprised of any movement or progress in the resolution of her guardianship.”

“I will. My God, I'm sorry. Sick and sorry for everyone. Look, can I get you something? I need some water. Gotta pop a blocker. I've got a headache coming on.”

Don't we all, she thought. “No, I'm good. Go ahead.”

He rose, went to Vending for a bottle of water. When he returned, he popped a small pill, washed it down.

“Lieutenant, the Dysons are good people. It's costing Jenny to walk away from Nixie, from the promise she gave to people she loved. She's never going to forgive herself for it, but she just doesn't have anything left. And Matt, he's broken to pieces. I'm not having an easy time holding it together myself.”

“I need you to do just that. I need to ask you about some of Grant Swisher's cases.”

“Anything I can tell you.” He drank more water, capped the bottle off. “If I can't, Sade can. She's got a brain like a motherboard.”

“Cases where Judge T. Moss presided.”

“Judge Moss? He was killed some years ago. Horrible tragedy. His boy, too. Car bomb. They never caught who did it.”

“I'm aware of that. Can you remember any cases, anything that stands out where Swisher was attorney of record, Moss on the bench, and a caseworker named Karin Duberry was involved?”

“Duberry.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he concentrated. “Something vaguely familiar, but I don't know anybody by that name. Hold on.”

He reached for his pocket 'link. Within seconds, Sade was onscreen. “Did Grant work with a GPS rep, Karin Duberry?”

“The one who was strangled last year?”

“I don't--” He looked toward Eve, got a nod. “Yeah.”

“Sure. They were on cases--same side and opposing. Why?”

“How about both of them going before Judge Moss?”

“Had to, I'd think. Odds in favor. What's the deal, Dave?”

“I don't know.”

“Mind?” Eve asked, and before he could answer took the 'link herself. “Lieutenant Dallas. Do you remember any threats by any participant in a case where Moss, Duberry, and Swisher were all involved?”

“Nothing springs. You've got copies of the case files. There'd be notes. Jesus, these are connected? You think the people who killed Grant blew up Judge Moss, killed the caseworker?”

“I'm looking into it. I'll need you available if I need to talk to you again.”

“You can count on it.”

Eve handed the 'link back.

“Thanks, Sade. I'll pick you up at two-thirty.” He shut off the 'link. “We're going to the funeral together. Look, Lieutenant, I can go over the case files myself. See if any of them bring back any coffee-break chatter. Grant and I bitched to each other plenty. You know, partners.”

“Yes, I know partners. If you think of anything, get in touch.”

“I will. I wondered, before I go ... I wondered if you could give me an idea when I could hold the memorial? I thought as Grant's partner, as their friend, I'd make the arrangements. I'd want to talk to Nixie, make sure we do this in a way that makes it as easy for her as possible.”

“You need to hold off awhile. I can't allow her to attend a memorial until we're satisfied she's no longer in any jeopardy.”

“All right, but could you just. . .” He lifted his briefcase, opened it. “This is the picture Grant kept on his desk. I think she'd want it.”

Eve looked down at the four smiling faces, the family grouped together in what seemed to be a casual photograph at the beach. The father's arm slung around the son's shoulder--the hand reaching to lay on the wife's, his other drawing his daughter back to him. The mother with her arm around the son's waist--fingers hooked in the belt loops of her husband's jeans. Her other hand holding her daughter's.

Happy, she thought, carefree summer day.

“I took it, actually. It was one of those weekends at their beach place. I remember I said, 'Hey, let me try out my new camera. You guys get together.' They moved together just like that. Big smiles.” He cleared his throat. “It was a good weekend, and Grant really loved that picture. Christ, I miss him.”

He broke off, shook his head. “Nixie, I think Nixie would like to have it.”

“I'll make sure she gets it.”

When he left she sat there, looking at the summer moment, that frozen slice of careless family fun. They hadn't known there wouldn't be another summer.

What was it like to have that sort of bond? That sort of sunshine ease, as a family? To grow up knowing there were people there to lay an arm over your shoulder, reach for your hand. Keep you safe?

She'd never known that. Instead she'd grown up knowing there were people who would hurt you, just for the sport of it. Beat you, rape you, break you because you were weaker.

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