Vengeance in Death (In Death #6)(43)

“Roarke.”

He only shook his head. His eyes met hers, once, and what she read in them chilled her blood. “He’s already dead.”

She let him go, promising herself she would talk him down as soon as she could. With her eyes tightly shut, she trembled once, hard. Then she pulled out her communicator, called it in, and signaled for Peabody to bring up her field kit.

CHAPTER NINE

When Roarke stepped outside the building, he saw Peabody had the field kit gripped in one hand and the kid’s arm gripped in the other. Roarke thought she was wise to keep him in tow. From the look on his face he’d be unlikely to hang around now that he had four in credits in his pocket. At least he’d be unlikely to hang with a uniformed cop.

He forced himself to block the scene he’d just left from his mind and concentrate on this one. “Got your hands full there, Peabody.”

“Yeah.” She blew out a harassed breath that fluttered her razor-straight bangs. “The CPS isn’t known for being quick on its feet.” She glanced up at the building, longingly. If Eve had called for the field kit, that meant there was a scene to preserve and investigate. And she was stuck baby-sitting. “I assume it’s inadvisable to take the minor back in, so if you wouldn’t mind taking the lieutenant her kit…”

“I’ll mind the boy, Peabody.”

Her eyes simply lit with gratitude. “That works for me.” With more haste than tact, she handed him over. “Don’t lose him,” she warned and hustled inside.

Roarke and the boy eyed each other with cool calculation. “I’m faster,” Roarke said, easily reading the intent. “And I’ve got more experience.” Crouching, Roarke gave the kitten a scratch behind the ears. “What’s his name?”

“Dopey.”

Roarke felt a smile tug at his lips. “Not the brightest of the Seven Dwarfs, but the most pure of heart. And what’s yours?”

The boy studied Roarke cautiously. Most of the adults in his life only knew Snow White as an illegal happy powder. “Kevin,” he said and relaxed a little as Dopey was purring hard and loud under the man’s long scratching fingers.

“Nice to meet you, Kevin. I’m Roarke.”

The offer of the man’s hand to shake had Kevin giggling at once. “Meetcha.”

The foolish and lovely sound of a child’s quick giggle lightened his heart. “Think Dopey’s hungry?”

“Maybe.”

“There’s a cart down the block. Let’s check it out.”

“He likes soy dogs.” Kevin began to skip along beside Roarke, thrilled beyond belief with his new good fortune. The new bruise was a dark and ugly contrast under the pale gray eyes.

“The only sensible choice for the discriminating palate.”

“You talk fancy.”

“It’s a fine way to make people believe you’re saying something much more important than you are.”

He held the boy’s hand lightly, then let it go when the smoke from the glide-cart puffed into the air. Kevin raced happily ahead, bouncing on his toes when he reached the cart where soy dogs and turkey hash rolls were popping with heat.

“Didn’t I tell you not to come around here?” The operator started to shove Kevin aside, snarling when the boy danced expertly out of reach. “I ain’t got no freebies for dirty little boys.” She grabbed up a long-handled, dualpronged fork, jabbing with it. “Keep pestering me and I’ll chop up that ugly cat and fry its liver.”

“I got money.” Kevin clutched his kitten tighter, but stood his ground. His stomach was rolling with distress and hunger.

“Yeah, yeah, and I shit gold turds. Go beg somewhere else, or I’ll blacken your other eye.”

Roarke stepped up, laid a hand on Kevin’s shoulder and had the operator shrinking back with one stony stare. “Can’t you decide what you’d like, Kevin?”

“She said she’s going to fry Dopey’s liver.”

“Just joking with the boy.” The operator grinned hugely, showing off teeth that screamed an abhorrence for basic dental hygiene. “I’ve always got a joke and a few later snacks for the neighborhood kids.”

“You’re a regular fairy godmother, I imagine. Box up a half dozen soy dogs, three scoops of fries, a couple of fruit kabobs, a bag of pretzel twists, two jumbo tubes of — What’s your drink, Kevin?”

“Orange Fizzy Supreme,” Kevin managed, dumbfounded by the upcoming feast.

“Two, then, and a handful of the chocolate sticks.”

“Yes, sir, right away.” The operator went to work with a vengeance as Kevin stared up at Roarke, eyes wide, mouth agape.

“Want anything else?” Roarke asked as he reached in his pocket for loose credits.

Kevin only shook his head. He’d never seen that much food in one box before. Dopey, inspired by the scents, let out a wild meow.

“Here.” Roarke pulled one of the soy dogs out, handed it to Kevin. “Why don’t you take this. Go back to the lieutenant’s car — and wait for me.”

“Okay.”

Kevin turned, took three steps, then, turning back, did something just childish enough to warm Roarke’s heart. He stuck out his tongue at the vendor then dashed off.