Visions in Death (In Death #19)(29)

She held out her hand, and Eve let the ribbon flow into her palm.

"She suffered. Terror and pain. She doesn't see his face, not really. She's dazed and afraid and hurt, but she fights him. God, he's strong. Big, tough, strong. It's not his face. I think it's not his face. The rape is quick, almost mercifully quick. He's in her, panting, pounding, when she feels this tighten around her neck. She doesn't know what it is, but she knows she's going to die. And she thinks: Vonnie. She thinks last of her child."

"Tell me about him."

She sat straighter, breathed slower. "He hates her. Fears her. Reveres her. But not her. So much rage, so much hate, rage, excitement. It's hard to get more than that. It's like blows raining down on my psyche. It's hard to get through the madness. But I know he's done this before."

"Why does he take her eyes?"

"I... She needs to be in the dark. I don't know, except he wants her in the dark. I'm sorry." She handed the ribbon back to Eve. "It's hard, and I can't handle the ribbon for long. It's too much. I can do it in short sessions."

Eve nodded, noting the sheen of perspiration covering Celina's face. "I see that. I need you to come with me to the crime scene."

Celina pressed a hand to her belly. "I'd like to change first."

"We'll wait."

After Celina had gone upstairs, Peabody let out a low whistle. "You gotta admit, she's got stones."

"Yeah. She stands up."

"And from where I'm sitting, she's the real deal."

"Looks like."

Restless, Eve got up. She liked the space, not just the amount of it, but the use of it. She admired the way Celina had held out her hand for the murder weapon.

"Is it the civilian or the psychic aspect you don't like?"

Eve flicked a glance over her shoulder at Peabody's question. "Little of both. I don't like attaching civilians to an investigation, and don't bother reminding me how often Roarke ends up that way. It's bad enough he does, bad enough I'm getting used to it. And the psychic thing. How much good is that really going to do?"

She turned back to Peabody. "What did she tell us? He's big and strong and out of his f**king mind. That's no bulletin."

"Dallas, it's not like she's going to give us a name and address. This stuff doesn't work that way."

"Why the hell not?" Irritated, she jammed her hands in her pockets. "If you can see stuff, why can't you see salient details? The killer is Murdering Bastard who resides at 13 Homicide Drive. That would be useful."

"Frosty. Just think of how quick we'd close a case. Then the department would hire a whole team of psychics—the, ah, the SDD—Sensitive Detective Division—and... You know what, I don't like it after all. We'd be out of a job."

Eve shot a dark glance toward the stairs. "And I don't like the idea that she could start poking around in my head."

"She wouldn't do that, Dallas. Legitimate sensitives respect privacy. They don't intrude."

Peabody's father had, Eve remembered. Inadvertently, but all the same. And there, she admitted, was the core of her bias.

"I like her," Peabody added.

"Yeah. She's okay. We'll take this little field trip, see what comes of it. Then you and me? We're going back to straight cop work."

———«»——————«»——————«»———

Celina changed into a pair of black pants and a blue, scooped-necked blouse. She wore several crystal drops on a chain around her neck.

"For protection, intuition, the opening of the third eye." She held them up as they stood at the edge of Central Park. "Not everyone ascribes to their benefits, but under the present circumstances, I'm willing to try anything."

She adjusted the enormous sunshades that hid half her face. "Pretty day," she said. "Warm and sunny. The sort of day that brings people outside. I love New York this time of year. And I'm stalling."

"The applicable areas have been searched, swept, recorded," Eve began. "From what we've learned, the victim walked the dog in this direction, and entered the park approximately at this point."

Eve started into the park.

"So many people have been through here, I don't know what I'm going to get. Truthfully, my gift is more direct, contact with someone or something. Usually."

About ten yards into the trees, Eve stopped. There was no one around, she noted after a sweep. People were at work, in school, at the shops, in restaurants.

It was too close to the street, this tony street, for chemi -head gatherings or illegals transactions.

"It was here, wasn't it?" Celina took off her shades, pocketed them, stared at the ground. "Where he grabbed her, dragged her deeper into the woods."

Her breathing was slow and even as she walked. A very deliberate sound.

"Struck her, in the face, knocked her down, dazed her. I can see the ground's torn up, so this must be where he..."

She took another breath, then squatted down and ran her hands over the grass and dirt. Yanked them back again. "God!"