by J. D. Robb
“That guy in Arkansas? We didn’t set out to kill him. We just needed a car as the truck was finished. Ella-Loo got him to stop, but then he started to fight me, and she had to hit him with the tire iron, and he fell hard. It was pure accident that time, that’s the truth. We had to give him another whack or two, just to be sure, then we dragged him off into the brush, and we wiped down the truck real good, loaded our things into the car. Ella-Loo was all keyed up, you know. The blood and all. And we pulled off a ways down the road, and when we made love…”
His face lit up, all but glowed. “It was like riding a shooting star. We knew nobody’d ever felt what we did. It wasn’t the same when we did it again the next day, and we knew to reach up to heaven again that way, what we needed to do. It’s what we had to do to fulfill ourselves and our destiny. What it was, was our true love right.”
“So the next time, you looked for someone.”
“Well, the next time, he kind of found us. We were just borrowing this cabin, over near Silby’s Pond, and this guy, he comes in and he asks what we’re doing, and says we shouldn’t oughta be in there, ’cause we broke the lock. Just this pissant guy, talking a little crazy. So I hit him with the poker from the fireplace, then we thought maybe if we kept him around, took our time with it, we’d ride that shooting star longer. And we did. Lord knows, we rode that star.”
“Details, Darryl, and they need to match with Ella-Loo’s.”
For the next two hours, he took them through every horrific detail of the bloody route across country.
Twice she sent Banner out for the sweet soft drinks James requested – and to give him a short break from the interview.
When it was done, she looked at the two-way glass, nodded.
“That’s it, Darryl, that’s all of it?”
“I swear to God, it is. If I left anything out it’s ’cause I don’t remember or got mixed up is all. You’re going to fix it now so Ella-Loo and me can be together, so I can see nothing bad happens to her.”
“The deal’s good as long as I’m in charge.”
On cue, Zweck stepped in with two agents he’d contacted. “Darryl Roy James, you’re under arrest for the murder of twenty-nine human beings, for the abduction, forcible imprisonment and torture of same. For the abduction, forcible imprisonment and torture of Jayla Campbell and Reed Mulligan, the attempted murder of Jayla Campbell and the rape of both Campbell and Mulligan.”
“I don’t understand. I thought I was already under arrest.”
“By the NYPSD,” Eve said as she rose.
“You are now charged with federal crimes, and the FBI hereby takes jurisdiction of all matters pertaining. You’re in federal custody, and will be transported to a federal facility.”
“With Ella-Loo?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“But you promised!” Darryl rounded on Eve. “You said!”
“As long as I was in charge.” She shrugged. “Now I’m not. We’re done.” She walked to Zweck, murmured something. He nodded.
“Hold him here,” Zweck ordered.
Eve walked out with Zweck and Banner while Darryl shouted for Ella-Loo.
“Peabody and I will wrap her up. Banner, you don’t have to hear all this again.”
“I’m in it till it’s done. I’m just going to contact my boss. I want to talk to him, then I’ll be back to watch.”
“Same play?” Zweck asked as Banner walked off.
“Same play. Do me a solid, Zweck. Vendings hate me. Get a Pepsi.”
When she started to pull out credits, he shook his head. “On me. I owe you more than a tube.”
“I’ll take it.” And she drank deep, not deep enough to wash the sickness out, but deep.
Then she went in to do it all over again, hear it all over again, with Ella-Loo.
EPILOGUE
By the time it was done, she wanted a week’s long shower, she wanted to sleep for a year.
Ella-Loo’s recounting didn’t vary by much. It might not have been as romantic as Darryl’s, might not have included rides on shooting stars, but she rolled it all out.
Some was fear – fear for herself at the idea of being in a place where someone could do to her what she had done to others. And some was her sick and terrible need for the man who’d flipped that murderous switch inside her.
In the end, with Ella-Loo fighting the restraints, cursing Eve, screaming at the federal officers who hauled her up and out, Eve kept her promise.
They pulled Darryl out of his interview room at the same time.
And they saw each other.
“Darryl, Darryl, help me. Don’t let them hurt me.”
He fought like a madman, screaming for her. “Ella-Loo! I love you, Ella-Loo! I’ll find you. They won’t keep us apart.”
“I love you, Darryl! I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait forever!”
The feds pulled them off in opposite directions, with the corridor echoing with their desperate declarations of love.
Zweck held out a hand for Eve’s. “Lieutenant, anytime you need anything from me. Anything, anytime, you’ve got it.”
“Appreciate it. I’d like to know where they end up.”
“Worlds apart, Lieutenant. That much I can promise.”
When he walked off, Eve pressed her fingers to her eyes. When she dropped her hands, she looked straight at Roarke.
“You’re still here?”
“I’ve come and gone a few times, but yes.” When he laid his hands on her shoulders, she gestured him into interview. Shut the door.
Then let herself lean, let herself be held.
“You always think, this is the worst. It can’t be worse than this. You have to think it, or you can’t do the job. You have to think it even knowing there’s going to be worse. So far, this is the worst. Hearing them tell it, how they enjoyed it, how they needed it, how they got off on it – and that was how they defined love.”
“You abdicated to the FBI, did the work and handed the result to them. That’s love. For the victims, for justice, for the job. And this is love.”
He drew her in again, laid his lips on hers. A long kiss, gentle and kind that brought the sting of tears to her eyes.
“I know it. Helps to hear it, but I know it. Need to pull it together.”
“I want to take you home.”
“Not yet. I need to contact Kuper’s mother, tell her we got them.”
“Of course. Yes.”
“Maybe help her close a door. And I want to check on Campbell.”
“She’s alive. Both Mira and Whitney have been checking. She’s quite a fighter.” He drew her back, rubbed her shoulders. “She’s alive, and her chances are good now. She’s not clear, but her chances are good. And she’s not alone. She has friends and family with her, as does the boy. Mulligan.”
“Good, okay, good. That’s a bright spot in this muck. And I’ve got another. You should come with me. You could use it, too.”
“I like bright spots.”
She started to open the door, looked back at him. “Whatever came before, whatever comes after, I know what love is because of you.”
He took her free hand. “Whatever came before, whatever comes after, it’s you who’ve shown me love changes everything. Lifts everything. Gives everything.”
“We’re going to have dinner tonight, just the two of us. No cops but me, no work. Like a date, okay?”
“Want a date, do you?”
It surprised her more than him. “I really do.”
“Then it’s more than okay.”
Steady again, she went out with him, and into Homicide.
“Wait for it,” she murmured to Roarke, and moved to Baxter’s desk.
“Hell of a bust, LT.”
“One for the books. Listen, I know you’ve been anxious about Trueheart’s results, but I’ve been kind of tied up with this pair of sadistic spree killers in love.”
“I got that. He’s handling it. We’ve been busy, just closed the one we caug
ht yesterday. I tried to find out, but it’s going to take another twenty-four.”
“Huh. So you actually think I’d let two of my men sweat it for forty-eight? You figure I can’t juggle in a contact, put a little weight on it?”
“You did? Hey, thanks, Dallas. Can I —”
He stopped when he caught the look on her face. “Ah, shit.”
“Look, Baxter, it’s a tough exam, and plenty don’t cut it through on the first try.”
“Yeah, yeah, hell. I’d like to be the one to tell him. I can cushion it.”
“I thought you should. Figured you should be the one to tell Trueheart we’re going to have a new detective in the division. He’s getting his gold shield.”
“I’ll— What?”
“What kind of cop doesn’t know when he’s being strung?”
“He passed.”
“He passed flying, Baxter. Be proud.”
“Holy shit. Holy shit.”
She saw the look in his eye when he surged up. “Try to kiss me, Detective, you won’t wake up for a week.”
“I gotta kiss somebody. Peabody.”
“What?”
Exhausted, she glanced over a second before he hauled her out of her chair, tipped her back smooth, and laid a healthy lip-lock on her.
“Hey, hey,” she finally managed as he swept her straight again.
“Trueheart!” he called. “Front and center.”
“We catch one?” Trueheart hurried over, earnest and shiny in his uniform.
“Not this time. Congratulations, Detective.”
“I passed?” Trueheart’s throat worked. “I passed?”
“Flying, I hear.” He shook Trueheart’s hand, then embraced him. “Good work, partner.”
“I passed,” he said again, almost like a prayer, and shut his eyes.
When he opened them again, he looked straight at Eve. He exchanged another manly backslap with Baxter while the other cops in the room applauded. Then he stepped over to Eve.
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.”
“I dropped you in, you made the grade. Congratulations, Detective.”
He shook her hand, then wrapped his arms around her.
Because he was young, and it was a moment, Eve let him.
“Don’t hug your LT,” she advised.
“Yes, sir. No, sir.” He broke away, laughing.
“The Blue Line,” Baxter announced. “After shift. Every-damn-body. I’m buying. We’re going to celebrate my boy here.”
Applause turned to cheers at the prospect of free drinks.
“I’ve got —”
Roarke squeezed Eve’s shoulder to stop her from declining.
“Nothing either of us would rather do,” he finished.
He ran his hand down her back as cops got up to slap Trueheart’s back, shake his hand, rag on him a bit.
“I told you no more cops tonight,” Eve reminded him. “You don’t have to do this.”
“His lieutenant should raise a glass to him, and I’d like to do the same myself. We’ve room for a few more cops in our bright spot. I’ve some things to see to. I’ll find you, end of shift.”
Yeah, he would, she thought, watching him go. They’d raise a glass to a good, young cop. Maybe another to a hard job, well done. Then they’d have a date.
It wasn’t a bad way to end a long day.