Echoes in Death

by J. D. Robb

  “Peabody, divvy it up so we’re not stepping on each other’s feet. He could be a little taller or a little shorter,” she considered. “Make it five-seven to five-ten. Let’s not let him slip through because we restricted too much.”

  She glanced at her wrist unit. “I want to take another pass at Daphne Strazza. Send my list to my home office, Peabody. Anybody gives even the shortest buzz, contact me. Any questions, any new avenues to try, the same. That’s ’round the clock.”

  She headed out, walking briskly toward the bullpen. She’d grab her coat, get to the hospital, maybe pull something else out of Daphne, then head home, drop straight into the work.

  She should check and see if Roarke—

  Her brain took a detour when she saw Rosa Patrick and Kyle Knightly step off the elevator.

  “Mrs. Patrick, Mr. Knightly.”

  “Oh, thank God! You’re right here.” Rosa all but launched herself at Eve. “He sent me a text, with a picture from … Oh God.”

  “Hold on, Rosie.” Kyle wrapped an arm around her waist as he looked at Eve. “Is there a place we can sit down? She really needs to sit down.”

  “Come this way.” She considered the lounge, but Interview A wasn’t in use, and was closer. More private.

  She showed them in. “Have a seat. Tell me what happened.”

  “My ’link. I answered my ’link, and— Here.” She dragged it out of her purse, shoved it toward Eve.

  “Here.” Kyle took it, gently pressed Rosa’s thumb to the security pad. “I’ll bring it up, okay?”

  “Yes. Sorry.”

  He called up a text, handed the ’link to Eve.

  An image of Rosa, bound, naked, unconscious on tangled sheets, came on screen. Above it, the text read:

  Wasn’t that fun? The best you ever had. Let’s do it again!

  Eve read the time sent: thirty-five minutes earlier.

  “You can trace it.” Rosa clutched her hands together, knuckles white as she pressed them between her breasts. “You can do that. Can you do that? Please. You can find him.”

  “Give me a second.” Eve rose, stepped away from the table, tagged McNab.

  “McNab, e-whiz.”

  “Interview A. Now.”

  “I’m there.”

  Eve came back, sat across from Rosa. “Is this the first communication you’ve received like this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Think back. Before the assault did you receive any kind of communication from anyone that was suggestive, overt, threatening?”

  “No. I swear. Why would he do this now? Why? It’s been months.”

  “He got stupid, that’s why.” Kyle gripped her shoulder. “They’ll trace that text, Rosa.”

  “The picture. He—he recorded … It’s like it’s happening again.”

  “Mrs. Patrick, where’s your husband?”

  “He’s on his way. He was uptown, in meetings, but he’s coming.”

  “Where were you when you received this text?”

  “We were—we were in the West Village.”

  “We’re doing a location shoot there next week,” Kyle explained. “I wanted to take another look, walk the streets we’re using. I asked Rosa to come along, give me her perspective.”

  “He wanted to give me something to do. I have a hard time getting out, alone. Staying home, alone.”

  “You’re doing better.”

  Rosa managed a smile at Kyle. “I was. I will. But … Kyle convinced me to go downtown with him and the assistant director. I was enjoying it. It took my mind off everything, and then this happened.”

  “You, Mr. Knightly, and—”

  “Karyn Peeks,” Kyle supplied. “The AD on the shoot. We were standing on—God, I think it was Charles.” He rubbed his forehead. “Mind’s a little scrambled. Karyn and I were discussing some angles, and Rosa answered her ’link. She went white, absolutely white. She nearly dropped the ’link. I caught it, and I saw…”

  “I wanted to run. I don’t even know where, just run. Kyle said we needed to bring it to you, right away. To bring it to you, and you’d trace the transmission.”

  “That was the right thing to do.”

  McNab knocked briskly even as he opened the door.

  “This is Detective McNab, with EDD. I need your permission to give him your ’link.”

  “Yes, yes. I don’t care if I ever see it again.”

  “Give me a second.” Eve stepped out with McNab. “Incoming text with image, came in about thirty-five minutes ago. Get me all you can, fast as you can.”

  “Done. I can do this in your office if that’s okay. Save time.”

  “Save time.”

  She went back in. “He’s one of the best,” she told them, “I want to reassure you. I’ve just come from briefing a team of detectives working on the investigation. It’s my top priority, and theirs.”

  “Do you have any leads?” Kyle lifted his hands. “Everyone asks that, but there’s a reason they do.”

  “And there’s a reason I can only tell you this investigation is open and active, and we’re pursuing any and all leads. And we are,” she said, looking back at Rosa.

  “I went, or, Lori and I went to see Daphne last evening.”

  “That’s good.”

  “It was hard, for all of us, but I think it is good. Lori and I know what she’s feeling right now, and I hope we showed her she’s not alone, and that it will get better. It was better, and now—”

  “This isn’t going to change that or you. You’re not going to let him violate you again.”

  “If I’d been alone when…”

  “You weren’t.” Kyle took her hand. “You’re not.”

  “I just … Neville. I wish he’d get here.”

  Giving her hand a squeeze, Kyle nodded. “How about I go out, get you some coffee, tag him and let him know we’re talking to Lieutenant Dallas, get his ETA?”

  “Would you? I’d just feel better.”

  “Sure.”

  “Skip the coffee,” Eve advised. “It’s as bad as it gets. Tea’s a better bet.”

  “Thanks for the tip. I’ll be right back.”

  “Rosa,” Eve began when they were alone. “I know you’ve been through this countless times. I know you’re feeling vulnerable right now. I’m going to ask you to think, and carefully. Before the assault, in the time after, but particularly before, was there any incident—however minor—when someone approached you, touched you, or … you know what I’m saying. Moved on you?”

  “No.”

  “Rosa, you’re a beautiful woman. It’s hard to believe you haven’t had someone hit on you.”

  “Not in an ugly way. A flirtation, an attempt? I mean you’re in a bar or a club waiting for friends and a man offers to buy you a drink? Sure. You say no thanks, and he may try to chat you up for a minute. You can judge if it’s harmless or if he’s going to get pushy, and you handle it accordingly.”

  “And there’s never been one of those times anyone approached you that way, frightened you, made you feel threatened.”

  “Honestly, no. Annoyed, yes. But since I’ve been with Neville, not much of that. I almost think—well, one of my friends said it’s like I have this aura of ‘Don’t Bother’ around me. I knew the first time I saw him. I was with someone else, but my heart just … Thud.” She let out a half laugh. “And when I managed to work my way up to him, to start a conversation, I was sunk. I knew it, felt so guilty because the man I was with was a very, very nice man.”

  “Was he angry?”

  “Who? Justin? Oh, no. He didn’t know, for one thing. Honestly, I thought of Neville as a lovely fantasy. The looks, the accent, the manner, the chemistry. I was sure it was only that when we ran into each other again. I was free, but he was with someone else. Missed that chance, that’s what I thought. Then, third time’s the charm. We met again and we were both single, and it turned out he’d felt that same thud. And that’s been that. The Don’t Bother aura descended.”

&nb
sp; “Did you ever have the feeling someone had been in your home when you weren’t? Notice something missing?”

  “Not really.”

  “Underwear,” Eve said and watched surprise flicker over Rosa’s face.

  “I … It’s odd you say that. I bought all new lingerie before the wedding, didn’t wear any of it. Neville and I lived together in the house since the spring, and I wanted everything new when we were married. So I put it away, but didn’t wear it. When we got back from the honeymoon I’d have sworn a couple of sets were missing. I took some with me on the honeymoon, but I was so sure I’d bought and put away these others.”

  “They weren’t where you’d put them.”

  “They weren’t anywhere. I just chalked it up to all the wedding chaos.”

  She stopped, rubbed a hand over her heart. “He’d been in the house?”

  “It’s something we’re looking into.”

  “It feels like it’s never going to end,” Rosa murmured.

  McNab opened the door, let Kyle walk in ahead of him.

  “Lieutenant?”

  “Give me a minute.” She stepped out with McNab.

  “Drop ’link.”

  “I figured.”

  “But I’ve got a location. Where the text originated, and where the ’link—still active—is now. It’s half a block from the Patricks’ building. I checked the file.”

  “Get your gear, you’re with me. Garage, five minutes, so move your ass.”

  “It’s never still.”

  Simple truth, she thought as he rushed off on his tartan airboots and she went back into Interview A.

  “As I suspected, the text came from a drop ’link.”

  “What does that mean?” Rosa demanded.

  “They can’t identify it, Rosa,” Kyle explained. “It’s not registered.”

  “Oh, but—”

  “We do have a location. I’m going there now. I can take you down to our lounge to wait for Mr. Patrick.”

  Kyle checked his wrist unit. “Damn it. He’s still about ten minutes out. Don’t wait. Go. I’ll tag him back, and we’ll meet him downstairs. He’s nearly here, Rosa. We’ll go meet him.”

  “Yes.” Rosa stood up. “Hurry,” she said to Eve.

  Eve hurried to her office, barely slowing her stride when Peabody sprang from her desk in the bullpen. “McNab said—”

  “Work the list. McNab’s enough for this. We get anything, you’ll know.”

  Eve grabbed her coat, arrowed down to the garage. McNab loped up half a minute behind her.

  Eve simply bulleted out of the slot, hit the lights and sirens, and sped out of the garage.

  “Yee-haw” was McNab’s reaction, but he tightened his safety harness. “Not to dampen down, Dallas, but he’s not going to be there.”

  “I know it.”

  “Okay then. This sucker moves. So this fuckhead escalates to murder on one hand, devolves to taunts on the other.”

  “Why ‘devolve’?” she asked as she swerved around a sedan whose driver obviously decided sirens meant nothing to him.

  “It’s small time, right? Sure, it keeps a former target on edge, or brings back that edge, but he’s on to bigger now.”

  “Ask yourself why this target? Why this woman? The first.”

  He asked himself as she hit a clear stretch on Tenth, and the city blurred by. “She’s still important. She, especially, means something to him.”

  “He didn’t include the husband on the text—it wasn’t a couple thing. He didn’t threaten violence. He taunted, yeah, but it’s ‘Let’s do it again.’ The sick part of him that twists this into actual sex wants to do it again. With her. That’s my conclusion until and unless the rest of the victims get the same.”

  McNab thought it through. Nodded. “That’s why you’re the LT.”

  “Fucking A. Still in that location?”

  “Hasn’t budged. I got a lock on it.” He studied the read on on his PPC.

  He guided her in as they got closer, then cursed.

  “Shit, fuck, damn, it shut down.”

  “Turned off?”

  “Shut down,” he repeated. “Vanished. I’ve got the lock on the location, but the ’link’s shut down. Left here, half a block. Shit. Ten feet, south side. Stop. We’re right on it.”

  Eve cut the wheel, double-parked. And saw the blueprint of it all the minute she stepped out of the A-T into the blast of angry horns.

  “Recycler.” She pointed, jogging to it. “It’s still humming, goddamn it.”

  “Smash-and-churn schedule’s right on it.” Frustrated, McNab kicked the bin. “Started up five minutes ago. Not just shut down, Dallas. Crushed and shredded.”

  18

  She waited with McNab, cleared the proper paperwork, and stood by while a city drone unlocked and opened the bin.

  And looked into the open bin at the god-awful, compacted mess.

  “Well.” McNab shoved at his purple-and-green earflap cap. “I like a challenge.”

  “You’ve got one. Take it in, do what you do.” She considered the logistics of him carting a big bag of compacted trash and garbage on the subway, dug into her pocket. “Cab it back.” She shoved money into one of his many pockets as his hands were currently busy working with the city drone to transfer the contents of the recycler to a large green bag.

  “Thanks.”

  “What are the odds?” she asked him.

  “Pretty much zilch, but you never know. Maybe it gets lodged in a little pocket, and just gets compressed instead of shredded.”

  “Good luck with that.” She started back to the car.

  “Ten minutes sooner, I could’ve jammed the sucker, and we’d have it whole.”

  She nodded as she climbed into the car because that had already struck her as a very interesting point.

  Heading toward the hospital, she used her wrist unit to shoot off a quick text to Roarke:

  Got a little delayed. I’m heading toward the hospital to check on Daphne Strazza. Home after that. I’ve got a long night coming—sorry.

  Even as she asked herself if she was taking time here better spent elsewhere, she navigated the now-familiar route to Daphne’s room. She found her—white pajamas and robe, hair groomed—standing with Del Nobel.

  “Lieutenant. Jacko’s keeps sending food. I’m trying to convince Dr. Nobel to take a share of today’s chicken Alfredo. It’s wonderful.”

  “You look good. Stronger.”

  “The nurse—Rhoda—she convinced me to, well, clean up a little. I do feel better. They said I can leave tomorrow, but—” She pressed her lips together, looked pleadingly at Del.

  “I can stretch it another day, but it’d be good for you to get out of here.”

  “I just don’t know where … My husband’s lawyer came by to see me. He was very, very kind. He gave me a debit card, for expenses until … until everything’s settled. I just can’t go back to that house. I just can’t go back there.”

  As if her legs had given out, she sat.

  “I can sell the house whenever Mr. Wythe says I can do that, but I can’t go back there.”

  “Do you remember anything else?”

  Daphne shook her head, but her fingers twisted together, and her eyes cut away.

  “Do you remember walking outside?”

  The fingers untwisted. Daphne looked at Eve. “No. I don’t. Not even like a dream. Dr. Mira said she’d come here tomorrow. If I’m not here—”

  “She’ll come wherever you are,” Eve told her. “Mr. Wythe told me you’re allowed to get a hotel, and whatever you need. I can get you a room at the Palace. I can make sure you’re safe and secure there.”

  “But … will you come there?” she asked Del. “If I have to go, will you come there and talk to me?”

  “I can do that.”

  “I’m not sure. I just don’t know what … What should I do?”

  Before he could answer, Eve caught the sound of raised voices outside the door. She stepped back, o
pened it to see the on-duty uniform blocking a furious woman in a long red coat with a huge bag slung over her shoulder.

  “You are not going to stop me from seeing my sister. Nobody is going to—”

  “Officer. She’s clear.”

  Tish shoved past the uniform, shouldered by Eve, then stopped dead, dropped the bag on the floor with a thump.

  “Daphne.”

  Daphne pushed to her feet, froze. “Tish.”

  “Daph.” Tish flew across the room, threw her arms around the pale, rigid Daphne. “Oh, Daph, Daph, Daph.”

  “How did you— Why are you—”

  “Why?” Tish pulled back an inch. “Don’t be an idiot. Daph,” she said more gently, cupping her sister’s face in her hands. “It’s going to be all right now.” When Daphne just shook her head, Tish gripped tighter. “Yes, it is. I swear, it is. Mom and Dad will be here tomorrow. They couldn’t get a flight out any sooner because of the blizzard, but—”

  “No!” Daphne struggled free and looked, to Eve’s eyes, absolutely terrified. “They’re not supposed to come. You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “He said. You need to go. You need to go now. He’ll be so angry. He’ll be furious if he knows you’re here.”

  “He’s dead,” Tish said flatly, laying her hands on Daphne’s face again when Daphne flinched. “He’s dead, Daphne, so that’s done. It’s done, and you’re not pushing me away. You’re not pushing us away again. Daphne, we’re your family.”

  Tears swirled into Daphne’s eyes, spilled over. And broke with sobs as she clung to Tish.

  “It’s all going to be okay,” Tish murmured. “I promise. I’m here now. I’m here.”

  “Let’s give them a minute,” Nobel suggested, gesturing to the door.

  When Eve stepped out with him, he let out a long sigh. “That’s a very good thing. Those are the first tears she’s shed that weren’t from fear or pain. You contacted the sister?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I couldn’t. Patient says don’t, I can’t. I’m damn glad you could. She’ll start healing on the inside now. It’ll take time, but it’ll begin.”

  “She’s looking to you to tell her what to do.”