Apprentice in Death (In Death #43)(72)

This time his thinned lips curved, just a little.

“Don’t think so? Think again. We’ll find her, and when we do, she’ll spend a lot more years in a cage than you have left. Fifteen years old? She could spend a hard century in a cage, off-planet. Never see the sun again. If you think her age will play in her favor, think again there, too. I put away one younger than she is. If I have to hunt her, I’ll make it my mission to see she spends every day of the rest of her life locked up like an animal.”

His hands shook, but he managed to lift the middle finger of his right hand.

“Gee, that stings. I guess you’re feeling pretty smug, lying there getting pain meds and something to cut down on the funk withdrawal. But that won’t last. I wonder if you’re thinking Willow’s on her way to Alaska. Yeah, that’s right,” she added when his hands fisted. “We know all about Alaska. We’d bag her, bag, tag, and toss her in that cage. But she’s not heading to Alaska, you idiot. She had a hit list of her own. Headed by her mother, her stepfather, her little brother.”

“Liar.” He croaked it out.

“She has blueprints of her school.”

“Get out.”

“The names of specific school employees and students she plans to take out.”

His breathing sped up, quick, short breaths. The trembling increased. He said, “Lawyer.”

Eve deliberately misunderstood him. “We know you had the lawyer on your list. I’m talking about hers.”

“Lawyer,” he repeated. “I want a lawyer.”

“So you understand your rights and obligations?”

“I understand, and I want a lawyer.”

“Your choice, a bad one, but that’s not a surprise considering your track record. Give me a name, a contact, and we’ll get your lawyer.”

“Provided. Appointed.”

“You want a court-appointed representative. Okay. Seriously bad choice, but I’ll start that ball rolling. The doc says you’ll be ready to move in under twelve hours now. Enjoy your plush accommodations while you can. They’re going to go seriously downhill. End of questioning.”

Eve stepped to the door, switched off her recorder. “A lot of blood on your hands, Mackie. Your daughter’s may be on them before this is over. You think about that while you wait for your lawyer.”

She stepped out, jerked a thumb at the two uniforms to send them back into the room.

“He said lawyer,” she told the other uniforms on the door. “I’ll be arranging that. No one but the lawyer, if and when he arrives here, and authorized medical personnel are to enter his room. Check every ID, and scan anyone going in for weapons.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Drag over a couple of chairs,” she advised. “It’s going to be a long night.”

She walked away, hunted up the head nurse. Badged her. “I’m to be informed the minute Reginald Mackie is medically cleared for transport.”

“Of course.”

“He’s requested a lawyer, and I’ll arrange one. No one but the lawyer, when appointed, medicals required for his care, and authorized police officials are to be given access to him.”

“Understood.”

“If anyone attempts to gain information about his status, you are to log the contact, and tell them nothing.”

“Lieutenant, it’s not my first roundup. I know the drill.”

“Good. Make sure everyone else does, too.”

Stepping away, she used her ’link to begin the process of granting Mackie his right to a court-appointed lawyer.

Roarke walked over, held out a tube of Pepsi. “The coffee here is marginally better than at Central, but it’s close.”

“Thanks. I need another couple minutes. I want to update the commander, Peabody, make sure Mira’s on tap, with all her hats, when I finally get Mackie into Interview tomorrow. And I want to talk to Nadine, have her blast the daughter’s picture on screen. Other media will follow that lead.”

“Take your time.”

It took another thirty, but when she felt she’d done all she could do, she two-pointed the empty tube into a recycler.

“He may delude himself that she’s off to Alaska, but she’s still here. Still in New York, and prepping for the next strike.”

“I agree with you, but there’s nothing you can do here and now. You need to go home, get some sleep.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She glanced back as Roarke steered her toward the elevator. “I hope he sleeps right and tight tonight, because it’s the last night he’ll spend outside of a goddamn cage.”





14


She fell asleep in the car, her PPC falling out of her limp hand onto her lap. Reaching over, Roarke slid it into her pocket, then lowered her seat back.

She worried him. No matter how completely he understood she did what she had to, pushed herself and others because she had no choice, she worried him.

He knew how thin her defenses were when she worked herself into exhaustion.

At least she’d get a few hours’ sleep in her own bed, he thought as he drove them through the gates. And he’d see she ate a decent breakfast in the morning.

He, too, did what he must, and the most important must for him was Eve.