Apprentice in Death (In Death #43)(110)

“My information is Willow Mackie was injured during her arrest. Was this retaliation for allegedly killing a cop?”

“Have you ever had a flash grenade tossed in your general direction? No? Ever had somebody in full body armor firing a laser rifle, a handheld, a blaster at you? Missed those, too? Every member of the team involved in apprehending the individual charged with twenty-five murders, including Officer Kevin Russo, put their lives at risk to protect and serve. Every member of the team acted and reacted in a lawful and appropriate matter to the threat, as the record of the arrest will show. Now if you—”

“Follow-up!” Nadine called out, interrupting what would likely have been an unwise assessment of the previous reporter’s intelligence. “Lieutenant Dallas, did you incur your very visible injuries during the arrest of Willow Mackie?”

“She objected, violently, to being arrested.”

“Would that include what appears to be a severe gash on your hand? Did she also have a knife?”

“Yes, and yes. I guess I forgot to ask if any of you have ever had someone try to slit your throat with a combat knife. She missed. If any of you want to play up the angle of her age, like we should sympathize, just make sure you include the names of the twenty-five. Ellissa Wyman, Brent Michaelson . . .” she began, and named every one.

“That’s all you get.”

“One moment, Lieutenant.” Tibble stepped forward, gave the entire room the hard eye until everyone settled. “I have personally reviewed recordings taken from Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody, Lieutenant Lowenbaum, and others during the confrontation and arrest of Willow Mackie. Lieutenant Dallas, Detective Peabody, and a civilian consultant all received direct strikes deployed by Willow Mackie, and were spared serious injury only due to their body armor.”

He allowed just a hint of temper to show as he turned the hard eye on the original questioner.

“Age doesn’t matter a whole hell of a lot, in my opinion, when you’re armed with laser rifles, flash grenades, and you know how to use them. More, if you use them to strike at civilians, at police officers, and rack up kills like trophies. Lieutenant Dallas and her team risked their lives today, as they do every day, to save yours, to save your spouses, your sons and daughters, your friends and neighbors. If anyone wishes to question the necessary actions of the courageous men and women who risked all to stop that unconscionable number at twenty-five, talk to me.

“Lieutenant Dallas, you’re dismissed, with gratitude.”

“Sir.”

She got out, got the hell out, pitifully grateful Roarke was right there waiting for her.

In the car, she put her head back, closed her eyes. “There’ll be others who’ll pull that.”

“If you mean using her age to pump up a story, or the fact that she got a few bumps during the arrest, yes, I expect so. Just as I know they’ll be drowned out. Put it away, darling.”

“Tibble was pissed. You don’t see that every day.”

“The fact he was, and let it show, has impact. You knew all twenty-five names.”

“Some things stick with you.”

He let her rest, hoped she slept, but she shifted, sat up as he drove through the gates.

“You’re going to want me to eat, but I feel a little off. I don’t know if I can deal with food.”

“Maybe a little soup. It’ll help you sleep.”

Maybe, she thought, but . . . “Don’t tranq it.”

“I won’t.”

She leaned on him as they walked to the front door, leaned as exhaustion crept back inch by inch. Because it’s done, she told herself. Because it’s over.

Summerset and Galahad stood in the foyer, as they might after any workday. But it wasn’t any day. She could have pulled out an insult, to make it more ordinary, but Summerset had wrestled with his own trauma.

She didn’t have it in her.

Apparently, neither did he.

He scanned her face, the bruises, but didn’t smirk or comment.

“Will you let me tend to your injuries, Lieutenant?”

“I just want to sleep.”

He nodded, looked at Roarke. “Are you hurt?”

“No. You look better.”

“I’m fine. We’ve had quiet times, the cat and I. Now you’ll have your own. There’s chicken soup, with noodles. I thought soothing would be best after this day.”

“Thanks for that.” Roarke wrapped an arm around Eve’s waist, turned her toward the stairs.

“Lieutenant?”

She glanced back, so tired now she nearly floated. “Evil doesn’t have an age.”

“No. No, it really doesn’t.”

She thought briefly of her home office, of checking on the paperwork, but couldn’t do it. Not now, not yet.

“Just an hour down,” she told Roarke as they turned into the bedroom. “Then I’ll think about food and the rest. Just an hour down first.”

“I could use that myself.”

The cat leaped on the bed as they undressed, bumped his head against her side as she crawled into bed. She gave him a couple of strokes, found it comforting. More comforting yet when he curled his tubby body into the small of her back.

And perfect, finally perfect, when Roarke slid in beside her, drew her close.