Taken in Death (In Death #37.5)(3)

But Elena Cortez’s hysteria had shifted to watery shock and grief. She stepped out of the car, wringing a damp cloth hankie in her hands.

“I’m Lieutenant Dallas, Ms. Cortez, and this is Detective Peabody. Tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I came with the children—”

“The children.”

“Sasha and Mica. I’m their nanny. They’re friends with Henry and Gala, and Darcia . . . Darcia and I . . . we’re friends.” She sucked her breath in three times as she pressed the hankie to her mouth. “Good friends.”

Fat tears spilled out, down her thin face. “We walk them to school together, and I waited on the corner, down there”—she pointed south—“but she didn’t come. And it was cold, so I took the children to school, and I came back to see what happened. She didn’t answer when I texted her, so I came to see. Maybe she’s sick, I thought, or one of the children. She wouldn’t forget. We walk them every day to school, and the MacDermits are away.”

“Where away?”

“I— Somewhere warm and important and romantic. They come back tomorrow. They have their tenth anniversary. It’s a special trip.”

“Okay, what happened when you came back here, to see?”

“She didn’t answer. I worried a little. I don’t know why I did it.”

“Did what?”

“I tried the door. I don’t know why, it’s always locked, but it was . . . impulse? I don’t know, but it wasn’t locked. I just pushed it open, and I called out. I stepped in, just a little. I saw blood, then I saw Darcia. I saw her on the floor, with the blood.”

She pressed both hands to her face. “I should have gone in, looked for the children, but I shut the door, very fast, and I called nine-one-one. I started to run first, but I called nine-one-one, and they said to stay. So I stayed.”

“You did exactly right,” Peabody told her gently, as the tears fell faster, faster.

“The children? Did he hurt the children?”

“The children aren’t hurt, as far as we know. Elena,” Peabody continued, “do you know anyone who’d want to hurt Darcia?”

“No. No. No one.”

“How did she get along with her employers?” Eve asked.

“They’re family. She’s been with them since the twins were babies.”

“Did she have . . . a special relationship with Mr. MacDermit?”

The insinuation went over Elena’s head as she smiled a little. “She loved him. He’s such a nice man. A big kid, she said sometimes. When I bring the children over, he always makes us laugh. He’s a very important artist, but he’s very nice. And a very good father. Not all men are such good fathers.”

Eve had reason to know the truth of that.

“And his relationship with his wife?” Eve asked.

“Oh, they . . .” She stopped, eyes widening.

A cab pulled up, and its rear doors flew open.

“They’re home! Oh God, they’re home.”

So they were, Eve thought. She stepped forward to intercept them—the big, broad-shouldered man with a mane of wild red hair and fierce green eyes, and the tall curvy blonde.

“What’s going on?” The blonde tried to push by Eve toward the house. “What’s happening? Where are my babies?”

“That’s exactly what I want to ask you.”

CHAPTER TWO

As his gaze tracked—police vehicles, barricades, then fixed on Eve’s face—Ross MacDermit wrapped a beefy arm around his wife’s shoulders. “They’re in school, Tosh—relax. What’s going on?” he demanded of Eve. “Did something happen to Darcia? Our nanny?”

“Again, your wife has that answer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s happening here? Where’s Darcia? Ross, contact the school, make sure Henry and Gala are okay.”

“I’m talking about you coming home a few minutes before midnight last night, Ms. MacDermit. And when Darcia Jordan let you in, you stabbed her to death.”

The woman’s ice-queen pale face went sickly gray. “What? What? Darcia—”

Once again, Eve blocked the woman’s push toward the house. “Then you drugged your children and brought them out to your car, put them inside, and took them to another location. Where are the children?”

“Our children?” Her eyes, wild with fear, wheeled toward the house. “Henry. Gala. Somebody took our babies?”

This time it took Eve and Peabody to hold her back, and several uniforms to restrain Ross.

“Your home security clearly shows you arriving at eleven fifty-four last night, six minutes before Darcia Jordan’s death.”

At Eve’s words, Tosha let out a wailing sob. “No.”

“And the vehicle you drove is registered to you. It clearly shows you departing, at twelve twenty-three, with the children.”

“That’s impossible.” Ross bellowed it as he fought to jerk free of the uniforms restraining him. “We were in New Zealand, for God’s sake. What’s the time difference? God!” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Seventeen hours ahead, seventeen ahead,” he murmured, the words shivering out like a prayer. “At midnight in New York we were in New Zealand having drinks by the pool with a couple we met at the resort. Dom and Madeline Porter, from Oxford, England. I have their contact information. I have the contact information for the resort. The cocktail waitress can confirm, the towel boy can confirm. We were in New Zealand. We were halfway around the damn world.”