The In Death Collection, Books 16-20

by J. D. Robb

  “I was so tired,” she said quietly. “I had to put the car on auto. I felt so weighed down and punchy and stupid. I had a pretty crappy day in a really crappy case. It’s not just the victims, not just the women. It’s like he’s pointing a finger at me when he kills them.”

  “And that makes you one of them.”

  Thank God, was all she could think. Thank God he understands. “One of them, and not . . .” she said, thinking of her dream. “One of them, and the one who’s standing for them when it’s too late.”

  “Eve.” He lifted his head, looked into her eyes. “It’s not, it’s never too late. You know that better than anyone.”

  “Usually. Usually I do.”

  There was something in her tone that had him sitting up, drawing her with him, then cupping her face so he could study it. “You know who he is.”

  “Yeah, I know. But the trick’s stopping him, proving it, putting him away. I knew, in my gut, from the start. I needed to clear my head out so I could start taking the right steps.”

  “You need to eat, and tell me about it.”

  “I guess I need to eat, then I have to tell you about something else.” She scraped her hair back with both hands. “I want to take a shower and pull myself together first.”

  “All right.” He knew her well enough to give her room. “We’ll have something up here. I’ll take care of it.”

  Her throat filled, and she dipped her head so her brow rested on his. “You know something handy about you? You take care.”

  He wanted to gather her in then, to push her to tell him what troubled her mind. But he let her go.

  She would run the water too hot, he thought, as he rose to get robes for both of them, to select the sort of meal that would do her the most good. Then she would stand under the spray, willing it to beat the energy back into her.

  She wouldn’t waste time with a towel, but step directly into the drying tube, and more heat.

  No, she wouldn’t sleep again, he knew as he set the meal in the sitting area. Not yet, not for a time yet. She would fuel, then she would work, then she would collapse. It was one of the most fascinating and frustrating things about her.

  She came back wearing the robe he’d hung on the bathroom door, a thin and simple black robe he doubted she knew she owned.

  “What is that green stuff?”

  “Asparagus. It’s good for you.”

  She thought it looked like something you’d whack out of a cartoon garden, but the fish and rice with it looked pretty good. So did the glass of straw-colored wine.

  She went for the wine first, hoping it would make the green stalks go down easier. “How come stuff that’s good for you always has to be green and funny looking?”

  “Because nutrition doesn’t come in a candy bar.”

  “It ought to.”

  “You’re stalling, Eve.”

  “Maybe.” She stabbed one of the stalks, shoved it into her mouth. It wasn’t half bad, but she made a disgusted face for form.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.” She flaked off a bite of fish. “I had a dream about my mother.”

  “Dream or memory?”

  “I don’t know. Both.” She ate, scooped up rice. “I think both. I was in an apartment, or a hotel room. I don’t know which, but apartment, I think. Some dump. I was three, four. How do you tell?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Me, either. Anyway . . .”

  She told him of being alone, of going into the bedroom, playing with the enhancements, the wig, though she’d been forbidden.

  “Maybe kids always do what you tell them not to. I don’t know. But I . . . it was irresistible. I think I wanted to look pretty. I thought all that junk would make me look pretty. Dolling up, that’s what they call it, don’t they? I was dolling up because once, when she was in a good mood, she told me I looked like a little doll.”

  “Children,” Roarke said carefully, “must, I think, have an instinctive need to please their mothers. At least during those early years.”

  “I guess. I didn’t like her, I was afraid of her, but I wanted her to like me. To tell me I was pretty or something. Hell.”

  She shoveled in more food. “I got so into it I didn’t hear them come back. She walked in, saw me. She belted me. I think she was jonesing—that’s the cop talking, but I think she was. There were works on the dresser. I didn’t know what they were. I mean as a kid I didn’t, but . . .”

  “You don’t have to explain.”

  “Yeah.” She kept eating. She was afraid the food would stick in her throat, but she kept eating. “She was screaming at me, and I was crying. Sprawled on the floor bawling. She was going to clock me again, but he wouldn’t let her. He picked me up . . .” Her stomach roiled at the memory. “Shit. Oh shit.”

  When her fork clattered to her plate, Roarke reached over, gently eased her head down between her knees. “All right then, long and slow. Take long, slow breaths.”

  His voice was gentle, as was the hand on her head. But his face was murderous.

  “I can’t stand him putting his hands on me. Even then, it made my skin crawl. He hadn’t touched me yet, hadn’t raped me yet, but some part of me must’ve known. How could I have known?”

  “Instinct.” He pressed his lips to the back of her head as his heart ripped to pieces. “A child knows a monster when she sees one.”

  “Maybe. Maybe. Okay. I’m okay.” She sat up, let her head lean back. “I couldn’t stand to have him touch me, but I sort of curled into him. Anything to get away from her. From what I saw in her eyes. She hated me, Roarke. She wanted me dead. No, more. She wanted me erased. She was a whore. It was a whore’s tools on the dresser. A whore and a junkie, and she looked at me as if I were dirt. I came out of her. I think she hated me more because I did.”

  Though her hand wasn’t quite steady, she reached for the wine, used it to wet her dry throat. “I don’t understand that. I thought . . . I guess I figured she couldn’t be as bad as he was. I grew inside her, so there had to be something. But she was as bad as he was. Maybe even worse.”

  “They’re part of you.” She jerked when he said it, and he closed his hands over hers, kept his eyes fierce on hers. “What makes you, Eve, is the fact that you are what you are despite that. In spite of them.”

  Her voice was strangled, but she had to speak. “I love you a hell of a lot right now.”

  “Then we’re even.”

  “Roarke, I didn’t know, didn’t realize, I wanted there to be something, to have something from her, until I realized for certain there wasn’t. Stupid.”

  “It’s not.” His heart broke a little more as he brought her hands, one at a time, to his lips. “No, it’s not. Was tonight the first you’ve had the dream?”

  He saw it, the combination of guilt and embarrassment that rushed into her face. His fingers tightened on hers before she had a chance to draw her hands away. “That wasn’t what this was about tonight.” His tone was flat, a warning that made her hackles rise in defense. “How long ago, Eve?”

  “A while. A few days. Last week. How the hell do I know? I didn’t mark it on my damn calendar. Having a few dead bodies fall at my feet tends to prey on my mind. I don’t have some handy admin keeping track of my every move and thought.”

  “You think turning this into a fight will distract me from the fact you’ve kept this from me for days? Before we went to Boston.” Too angry to sit, he pushed to his feet. “Before that, before I asked you what was wrong, and you brushed me off with a handy lie.”

  “I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell you because . . .” She trailed off, shifted gears quickly. “I wasn’t ready, that’s all.”

  “Bollocks.”

  “I don’t even know what that means.” She speared another asparagus and ate determinedly.

  “You made a decision not to tell me.” He sat again, crowding her. “Why?”

  “You know, ace, maybe you could
bag your ego for five fucking minutes so this isn’t about you. It’s my deal, so—hey!”

  She nearly slammed him back when he gripped her chin, but he outmaneuvered her, nudging her back so he could stare into her eyes. “But it is about me, isn’t it? I’m following the path of your busy brain well enough now, I think. What I found out about my mother not long ago stopped you from letting me be there for you with this.”

  “Look, you’re still messed up about it. You don’t think you are—not the big, strong man, but you are. You’ve got bruises all over you, and I can see them, so I didn’t figure dumping this on you would do any good.”

  “Because thinking of your mother, who had no love for you, would only bring the grief for my own, who did love me, closer to the surface.”

  “Something like that. Let go.”

  He didn’t. “That’s a flawed and stupid logic.” He leaned in, kissed her long and hard. “And I’d have done the same, I imagine. I do grieve for her. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop completely. And I don’t know how I’d have begun to get through it without you. Don’t shut me out.”

  “I was just trying to give us both some time to settle.”

  “Understood. Accepted. But we seem to settle better together, don’t you think? Where did she hit you?”

  Staring at him, she touched the back of her hand to her cheek, then felt her heart stumble when he leaned in, touched his lips gently to the spot as if it were still painful.

  “Never again,” he told her. “We’ve beaten them, darling Eve. Separately, and together, we’ve beaten them. For all the nightmares and the bitterness, we’ve still won.”

  She took a breath. “Are you going to be pissed off when I tell you I talked to Mira about this a few days ago?”

  “No. Did it help?”

  “Some. This helped more.” She toyed with her food again. “Cleaned me out. Maybe my brain will start cooking again. I was so off when I got home. I couldn’t fling a decent insult at Summerset. And I’ve been saving up.”

  “Hmm” was Roarke’s only response.

  “I had some good ones stockpiled. They’ll come back to me. But my head’s crowded with this business, and the case. Then there’s Peabody driving me over the edge.”

  “It’s tomorrow for her, isn’t it?”

  “Thank God. I’ll hit Fortney and Breen tomorrow while she’s in exam. I can get Feeney to team with me. And then . . . oh, speaking of hitting, Fortney socked Pepper.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Blackened her eye. She came in, filed charges, so that smooths the way to holding him. I’ve shuffled things so he won’t be able to whine for bail until tomorrow. I already had round one with Breen today. He started out smirky, but I wiped that off his face. I’ve got him shadowed until our scheduled interview tomorrow. Renquist is reportedly out of the city on business. I thought I might tug on one of my connections and see if that’s the case or just a runaround.”

  “Would it be my ego talking again if I assume I’m that connection.”

  She gave him a quick, toothy grin. “You’re pretty handy to have around, even after sex.”

  “Darling, that’s so touching.”

  “I’ve got Smith locked down, too. I want to know where all of them are 24/7 until I can push for a warrant.”

  “And how do you know which of the four is your man?”

  “I recognized him,” she replied, then shook her head. “But that’s gut, and you can’t arrest on gut. There’s only one who fits the profile, right down the line. Only one who’d have needed to feed himself by writing the notes. I need to eliminate the other three, build the case on the one. Once I tie the travel to the other murders, I’ll have enough for a search warrant. He’s got stuff—the paper, the tools, the costumes. He’s kept all that. Tomorrow, the next day, I’ll get in. And I’ll have him.”

  “Are you going to tell me who it is?”

  “I think we’ll work on the elimination process, do the travel and murder dates. See if you start leaning in the direction I’ve taken. You’ve got a pretty good gut yourself. For a civilian.”

  “Such flattery. Then it appears we’re going to work.”

  “Yeah, I—Shit.” Her pocket ’link beeped. “I’ve got it,” she said, leaping up to scramble to the platform where the bed stood and grab her trousers from off of the floor.

  She dragged it out of a pocket, flipped it on. “Dallas.”

  “Lieutenant.” Sela Cox’s tear-streaked face filled the screen and had Eve’s heart dropping to her knees.

  “Mrs. Cox.”

  “She’s awake.” The tears kept falling even as she smiled. Brilliantly. “The doctor’s with her now, but I thought I should tell you as soon as I could.”

  “I’m on my way.” She started to click off, stopped herself. “Mrs. Cox. Thank you.”

  “I’ll be waiting for you.”

  “I just got a miracle,” Eve told Roarke and dragged on her trousers. Then she found she had to sit, just give into weak legs for one moment. “I saw her face. In my dream tonight. Hers, and the others, my own. I saw her face, and I thought she was dead. That I’d been too late for her, and she was dead. I was wrong.”

  She took a deep breath as Roarke came over to join her. “I saw him, too. My father, standing on the other side of the hospital bed. He said it never ended anyway. There’s always another victim and I might as well give up before I was dead, too.”

  “And he was wrong.”

  “You’re damn right.” She pushed to her feet. “I’m not tagging Peabody. I want her fresh for the exam. Want to stand in?”

  “Lieutenant, I already am.”

  Chapter 21

  She strode down the hospital corridor. She’d hooked her badge on her belt to stop any medicals from getting in her way. Roarke wanted to tell her the fire in her eyes would have done the job, but he was afraid it might dim that fierce light.

  And he enjoyed seeing it too much to take the chance.

  The guard she’d placed at the door to ICU was at attention when she turned the corner. In Roarke’s opinion, the uniform had likely scented her energy and whipped himself on alert.

  Even as she reached for the door, it swung open. The doctor, Roarke thought, was a more courageous soul. He barred her path, folding his arms across his chest and using a frown as a shield.

  “I was told you’d been notified and were en route. The patient is barely conscious and drifting in and out. Her condition is still critical. I won’t risk having her interrogated at this point.”

  “Twenty-four hours ago, you told me she’d never regain consciousness. She has.”

  “Frankly, I consider it a miracle she’s come out of a coma, even briefly.”

  Sela Cox had asked for another miracle, Eve thought. And by God, she’d gotten it. “I don’t believe in wasting miracles. Somebody put her in that room, and there’s a chance she can tell me who before he puts someone else in the hospital. Or the goddamn morgue.” Now her voice lashed like a whip that had the uniform wincing. “You don’t want to get in my face on this.”

  “On the contrary.” Laurence kept his melodious voice low. “I am in your face on this, and this is my turf. My patient’s welfare is paramount.”

  “On that last point, we’re in perfect agreement. I want her alive and well.”

  “For her testimony.”

  “Goddamn right. If you think that makes me the enemy, then you’re just stupid. I put her in the dead column, Laurence, just like you. But she showed us both what she’s made of. Now, I want her to know the man who did this to her has been put away. I want her to know I’m going to do that for her, and that she had a part in making it happen. Right now, she’s just a victim. I’m going to help make her a hero. That’s something to live for. You’ve got two choices,” she said before he could speak again. “I have this officer restrain you, or you go in with me and supervise.”

  “I don’t like your tactics, Lieutenant.”

  “File a complaint.” She
pushed open the door, glanced at Roarke over her shoulder. “I need you to wait.”

  When she stepped in her heart sank again. Marlene lay still and deathly pale in the bed. Her mother stood beside her, holding her hand.

  “She’s just resting,” Sela said quickly. “When you said you’d come, I asked my husband to go down to the chapel. They’ll only let two of us in here at a time.”

  “Mrs. Cox, I must tell you again, Lieutenant Dallas’s presence is against medical orders. Your daughter needs to remain calm and quiet.”

  “She’s been quiet since this was done to her, and she won’t be calm until he’s caught and punished. I’m grateful to you, Doctor, more than I can begin to say. But Marley needs to do this. I know my child.”

  “Watch your step,” Laurence warned Eve, “or you’ll be the one restrained.”

  She kept her focus on Marlene as she moved to the side of the bed. “You should talk to her, Mrs. Cox. I don’t want to scare her.”

  “I’ve told her you were coming.” Sela leaned over the bed, touched her lips to her daughter’s forehead. “Marley? Marley baby, wake up now. Lieutenant Dallas is here to talk to you.”

  “So tired, Mom.” The words were slurred and soft.

  “I know, baby. Just for a little while. The lieutenant needs your help.”

  “I know you’ve been through a lot.” Eve ignored the doctor as he edged closer. “I know this is hard. I’m not going to let him get away with what he did to you. We’re not going to let him get away with it, Marley. You and me. You got away from him. You stopped him once. You can help me stop him once and for all.”

  Her eyes fluttered open. It was painful to watch, the effort of lifting those lashes, the intense focus in those eyes. Eve recognized the look, the determination of fighting back pain.

  “It’s all blurred, all runs together. Can’t bring it clear.”

  “That’s all right. Tell me whatever you can. You were coming home from work. You took the subway.”

  “Always take the subway. Just a few blocks. Hot night. Feet hurt.”

  “There was a van.”

  “Little moving van.” Marlene shifted restlessly, but before the doctor could move, Sela was stroking her daughter’s hair.