Taken in Death (In Death #37.5)(29)

“It should be a fine day for it. You’ll be making a stop before you go in. I’ll go with you, then be on my way.”

She blew out a breath. “Are we having an internal conversation?”

“I know how you think, what you feel. It comes to the same on some things. I’ll drive you there, then get my own transpo back.”

“Okay.” She touched her fingertips to his. “Thanks.”

SO HE STOOD WITH HER IN THE CHILLY AIR IN THE MORGUE, over the body of Darcia Jordan.

“I barely had time to do more than look at her, have her bagged and tagged. It doesn’t sit well.”

“You couldn’t save her, but you stood for her, Eve, by standing for the children, by working to get them back.”

“It’s what we had to do.”

“Say what you need to say to her.”

It felt strange, even with him, but she had to get it out, get it said. “The kids are safe, they’re home. I’m going to do everything I can—and I’ve got plenty of backing—to see the bitch lives out her crazy life in a cage. Off-planet, if we can work it. The farther away the better. I didn’t forget you. I just had to put them first. So . . . that’s it.”

She looked at Roarke, shrugged. “That’s it.”

“Then go do that.” He took her hand to lead her out of the room, down the long white tunnel. “Go see she lives out her crazy life in a cage.”

She stepped outside where the sun had risen to lighten the sky, and the stillness had lifted with the faintest wind that smelled ever so lightly of snow.

She took a deep breath of New York. “You know, you’re right. It looks like it’s going to be a fine day.”

Since no one was around, and what the hell, she’d earned it, she leaned into him for a quick kiss. “See you around, pal.”

“Take care of my cop—Lieutenant Good Witch.”

Laughing—yeah, a pretty fine day—she climbed into her car to finish the job.