by Robb, J. D.
“There are times I wonder how we ever managed to get through two hours together much less two years. And other times I wonder how either of us survived before we found each other.”
“She’ll be angry with you for taking me to this place.”
“No, what she’ll be is right pissed. But they used my place, you see, and at least one of my people. So pissed she’ll have to be. I’m grateful to you for doing this.”
“Gifts aren’t free. What I have, what I am makes its own demands. Will you take this?” She held out a small white silk bag tied with a silver cord.
“What is it?”
“A protection charm. I’d like you to carry it when we go in that room together.”
“All right.” He slipped it in his pocket, felt it bump lightly against the gray button he habitually carried there. Eve’s button, he mused, and wasn’t that a kind of charm? “I’ve been in before.”
“Yes. And what did you feel?”
“Beyond the anger, the pity? I suppose if I were a fanciful man I’d say I caught the scent of hell. It’s not sulphur and brimstone. It’s the stench of cruelty.”
Isis took a long breath. “Then we’ll go. And we’ll look.”
In Slone’s office, Eve glanced at the readout on her ’link, and let the transmission go to voice mail. Roarke would have to wait, she decided, and turned back to Sarah Meeks. The receptionist had a soother in her now, but tears still trembled.
“Where were Ava and Jack going?”
“They weren’t sure. They both wanted to keep it light, you know? First date, and you work in the same place, so if it doesn’t work out . . .”
“Did they leave together, from here?”
“No—I mean, I don’t think so. She was—they were—still here when I left. But I know she planned to go home first. Even though it was casual, Ava wanted to fuss a little, so she was going home to change.”
“What time did you leave?”
“About three. I came on at seven yesterday, and left around three.”
“Who else was here when you left?”
“Oh, let’s see. Dr. Slone, and Dr. Collins, and Dr. Pratt. Um, Leah, Kiki, Roger, one of our physician assistants, and . . .”
Eve took notes as Sarah listed names.
“Was Ava seeing anyone else?”
“No. I mean, she dated sometimes, but not a lot, and nothing serious. There was just this spark, you know, between her and Jack. We all thought they might . . .”
“Did she have any interest in the occult?”
“The what? You mean, like ghosts or something?”
“Or something.”
“I don’t think so. Ava was . . .” She trailed off again, as if trying to find the word. “Grounded. That’s it. She was just really real. She loved her job here, and was so good at it. Good with the staff, the patients. She remembered people’s names, and what they came in for, and what everybody liked in their coffee.”
“Was there anyone who showed a particular interest in her—other than Jack?”
“Everyone did. She was like that. Everybody loved Ava.”
Eve sent Sarah out, sniffling. “Anything pop on those runs?” she asked Peabody.
“Nothing that sings. You’ve got a lot of highly educated people on staff. Slone’s married, two kids, no criminal. Wife’s an interior designer. Homes in the city, in the Hamptons, and in Colorado. Collins, Dr. Lawrence, second marriage, two offspring from each, no criminal. Current wife is professional mother. Upper West Side digs here, and a home in Costa Rica. Pratt—”
“Copy the data to my pocket unit.” Eve paced the office. “This is going to take a while. We need to split up. Go over and check Ava’s apartment. Have EDD pick up her electronics. I’ll meet you back at Central when we’re done here.”
“Okay. You know, Dallas, we’re both going to need sleep at some point.”
“We’ll get to that. Tell them to get someone else in here.”
At least one of the killers was here, Eve thought. She was sure of it. The vic hadn’t been in the city two full years, and from what Eve had learned, most of her time and energy and interest funnelled into her work. These were her contacts, her people.
Pike, brand-spanking-new.
It was possible they’d run afoul of someone at Ava’s apartment—and Peabody would ferret that out, if so. But logic said both Ava and Jack had known at least one of her killers well enough to trust.
And what easier place was there to drug someone than in a health center? The place was full of drugs—and people who, in Eve’s opinion, just loved sticking them into other people. Subdue them here, she speculated, give them enough happy juice to make them compliant and transport them to the hotel, where one or more partners has already dealt with Mika and Trosky.
Get them upstairs, she imagined, and let the party begin. Had to be early. The whole thing had been done by twenty-three hundred, latest. It took time to eat, drink, orgy, and perform a human sacrifice.
She glanced up as the door opened. The man who hurried in was about five-ten and carrying a good five excess pounds in the belly. His round face held a pleasant if harried smile. Eyes of faded green radiated both fatigue and kindness. He scooped his hand through his short tangle of brown hair.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. We’re . . . well, we’re shorts-taffed today, as you know. We didn’t have enough time to notify all the staff, the patients, and close today.” He sat, wearily. “I think we’re all running on sheer nerves. Sorry, I’m Dr. Collins, Larry Collins.”
“Lieutenant Dallas. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It’s incomprehensible. At least a half dozen times today I’ve started to ask Ava for something. In the six months or so since she’s been here, she’s become the hub of the practice.”
“You’re aware she was planning to see Dr. Pike last night, socially.”
“Yes. We were all invested, a bunch of matchmakers.” His lips compressed on the term. “And now . . . Jack couldn’t have hurt her, Lieutenant. It’s just not possible.”
“What time did she leave yesterday?”
“Ah, let me think. I believe she was still here when I left, and that would have been close to five. Yes, yes, because I said good night to her and—” He broke off, looked away, struggled for composure. “—and good luck.”
“Where did you go?”
“I went home, and had a drink.” He smiled a little. “My last patient of the day was a very, let’s say, active and opinionated fiveyear-old.”
“You’re a pediatrician?”
“That’s right.”
Eve nodded, watching him. “I have to ask, it’s routine. Is there anyone who can verify your whereabouts from five p.m. to midnight?”
“My wife. She fixed me the drink, bless her. We had a quiet evening at home as the kids were spending the night with friends.”
“All right. Who was here when you left, other than Ava?”
“I’m not entirely sure.” He furrowed his brow in thought. “I think Rodney, one of our nurses, and Kiki, a lab tech. I know the waiting room was clear, because I commented on it to Ava. We try to close at five, but realistically it’s nearer to six most days.”
“Dr. Pike? Was he still here?”
“I didn’t see him. Of course, he may have been with a patient.”
“Thanks for your time. I may have some follow-ups later, but for now, that’s it. Would you send either Kiki or Rodney in?”
“I think Rodney’s on his lunch break, but I’ll see that Kiki’s told you’re waiting.” He rose, walked to the desk where she sat, offered a hand. “Thank you, Lieutenant, for all you’re doing.”
She got to her feet first so their eyes would be level. She thought of when she might grab a meal, and took his hand. “It’s my job.”
“All the same.” He held her hand, her eyes a moment longer, then released it. “Thank you.”
She waited until he’d left the room before she spoke for her recorder. “Note, Dr
. Lawrence Collins is a sensitive. And one who doesn’t mind poking into another’s mind without permission.”
Hope he enjoyed her thoughts of pepperoni pizza, Eve mused. Then checking the time, pulled out her ’link to check her messages.
She was snarling and steaming before Roarke’s message played out. “Son of a bitch!” She tagged him back. “You’d better answer, goddamn it, you’d just better—Stay out of my crime scene,” she snapped out when his face came on-screen.
“That crime scene is a suite in my hotel.”
“Look, pal—”
“You look for a change. One of my people is in custody. Another, I’ve just been informed, is dead by his own hand. I won’t sit and do nothing.”
“I’m getting somewhere here, and I’ll be in contact with Mira within the hour. She’ll have finished the initial exams, and if she gets the results I think I may have enough for a search warrant.”
“That’s all very well and good for you. Meanwhile, I’ve my own line to tug, and at the end of it, you may have enough for arrest warrants.”
“You can’t just walk into a crime scene and take someone with you. Who the hell is with you?”
“Isis.”
There was a long, stunned silence. “You’re taking a witch into my crime scene? What the hell’s wrong with you? If the two of you compromise—”
“Your sweepers and techs have been through, the scene’s been recorded and photographed, evidence removed and logged. You’ve been over that suite top to bottom yourself. Added to that, goddamn right back at you, I didn’t come down in the last shower of rain. I know what’s to be done to protect the bleeding scene.”
“You both need a nap,” Eve heard Isis say, very pleasantly.
“Listen. I’m on the Upper West Side, finishing up interviews with the staff at the health center. I’ll be done in about thirty minutes, and can be at the hotel in forty. Wait. Just wait until I get there.”
There was another silence, then she saw him nod. “Forty minutes,” he said and clicked off.
Eve hissed out a breath, kicked Slone’s desk. She might have kicked it a second time, but the door opened.
The woman who came in reeked of Neo-Goth. The black hair, red lips, and the silver hoop through her pierced left brow projected a kind of careless defiance that merged with the tattoo that peeked out from the slope of her breast.
Eve might have considered it all a matter of personal style, along with the snug black top and pants, the chunky black boots, but for the smug gleam in the black-lined eyes.
Weak link, Eve thought, and smiled. “Hello, Kiki.”
“I’m swamped.” She dumped herself in a chair. “So let’s cut to it. I left about five—Ava, the pure and wholesome—was still here, all shiny-eyed about her date with Dr. Dull. I lit out, met up with some friends downtown. We hit some clubs, got trashed, hung out, and I got home about two. Is that it?”
“Not quite. I’ll need the names and contact information for your friends.”
Kiki shrugged, rattled off names and ’link numbers.
“You didn’t like Ava?”
“Wasn’t my type, that’s all. Too bad she’s dead and all that. Saint Jack probably freaked when she wouldn’t put out, and did her.” Now those eyes glittered. “But since I wasn’t there, I don’t know. Ava and I weren’t buds, so I got no clue what she was into. You need more, you’ll have to catch me later. I’m backed up.”
“Thanks for your time.”
“Whatev.”
Eve waited a few seconds, then walked to the door, stepped out. She saw Kiki at the end of the corridor in an intense conversation with Leah Burke. The moment Leah spotted Eve coming toward them, she squeezed a hand on Kiki’s arm to silence her, and started forward. “Lieutenant, can I help you?”
“I’d like to speak to Rodney.”
“He’s not back from his break.” She checked her wrist unit. “He should be only a few more minutes. He’s very prompt.”
“Okay, I’ll take Dr. Pratt.”
“He’s still with a patient. I can’t—”
“I’ll keep it short. I’m sure we’ll all be happy when this is done. Before you interrupt him, what time did you leave last night?”
“Me? Ah, just after five.”
“Was Ava still here?”
“No, she’d just left. I, ah, scooted her along, actually, so she could get ready for her date. I closed up last night.”
“You were the last to leave?”
“That’s right.”
“And where did you go?”
“I went home. I, ah, walked home, changed, had some dinner.”
“You didn’t go out again?”
“No.”
“Make or receive any calls, have any visitors?”
“No, it was a quiet night. Lieutenant, I have patients myself.”
“Okay. I’ve only got a couple more staff members, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
Eve stepped back into Slone’s office. Collins, Burke, and Kiki, she thought, were top of her suspect list. She scanned Silas Pratt’s data, but he didn’t keep her waiting long.
He strode in, a sharply handsome man with an air of confidence. His eyes were a laser blast of blue, and she could admit they gave her a jolt. When he offered his hand she allowed herself to think just that: Here’s a great-looking man with killer eyes.
He smiled at her. “Lieutenant, I’m Silas Pratt.”
Her heart pumped a little harder as he squeezed her hand. She felt the probe of his gaze, and yes, of his power, like heat along her brain. “Have a seat, Dr. Pratt,” she said and removed her hand from his.
“Can you tell me if you have any leads? Other than Jack. No one who knows him will believe Jack did this to our Ava.”
“You’ve only known him a couple of weeks.”
“That’s true. Peter recruited him, but I like to think I’m a good judge of character. What they’re saying was done to Ava, well, it’s monstrous, isn’t it? And to someone so young, so vibrant.”
Now he did sit, and passed a hand over those potent eyes. “I thought of her almost as a daughter.”
“You don’t have children. According to your official data.”
“No. But it was easy to feel a paternal kind of affection for Ava.”
“I don’t want to intrude any longer than necessary.” And she wanted out, Eve admitted. There was a heat in the room now, a kind of singeing of the air. “When did you leave yesterday?”
“About quarter to five. Ava was getting ready to leave, I remember. Leah was shooing her out. She and Jack—well, you know about all that.”
“Yes. Did you approve of that? One of your doctors dating your office manager.”
He looked surprised by the question, even bemused. “They were both adults—and frankly, they seemed besotted with each other from the first minute.”
“Where did you go when you left?”
“Home to change. My wife and I had a small dinner party last evening. A few friends.”
“I apologize, but it’s routine. I’ll need the names and contact numbers.”
“Of course.” He smiled at her. “No apology necessary.” And he gave her six names. She thanked him, dismissed him. Then added those names to her list of suspects.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Roarke arranged lunch for himself and Isis in the owner’s suite of the hotel, and passed the forty minutes eating food that didn’t interest him while making polite small talk with a witch.
“When’s the last time you slept?” Isis asked him.
“I suppose it’s been about thirty-two hours now. She’ll push herself until she drops, you see. Eve.”
“And you relax and recreate?”
“More often than she. But no, in this case, in this particular case, I suppose we’ll both push. Her time’s up, so if you’ve finished, I’ll take you to 606.”
“First.” She rose, stepped to him, and placed her hand on his head. “No, relax, just for a moment. Clear y
our mind. You can trust me.”
A warm flow, he thought. Not the quick burst of energy that came from popping a booster, but more of a slow, steady build of stamina.
“Better?”
“Thank you, yes.”
“It won’t last long, but between that and the little you ate, it should get you through. What you need is some rest.” She picked up her bag. “I’m ready.”
He led her to the elevator.
“You said there’s a private elevator that opens into the suite, as well as the doors to the hallways.”
“That’s right.”
“I want to see it from the outside first. I want to go through the door, not through a machine.”
“All right. Sixtieth floor,” he ordered. “Main bank.”
“I’ll ask you, whatever happens, not to leave me alone.”
“I won’t.” When the elevator doors opened, Roarke took her hand.
The bloody footprints still walked the carpet. Blood smears marred the walls where Jack had laid his hand for balance. In Roarke’s hand, Isis’s fingers tensed.
“People think of it as a cliché.” She stared at the door where the tail of blood made a six from the middle zero. “But it has power and meaning. It should be cleaned—all of this—with blessed water as soon as possible.”
Roarke stepped forward, drew out his master. And Eve strode off the elevator like vengeance.
“Wait. Didn’t I tell you to wait?”
“And so I did.” Roarke turned to her, his gaze as icy as hers was hot. “You’re late.”
She put herself between him and the door. “I know who did this. At least I know some of them. I can close this without the mumbo.”
“Nice to see you again, Eve.”
Eve shifted her gaze to Isis. “No offense. I appreciate you being willing to help, and in fact, have some questions you may be able to answer. You don’t have to see what’s in there.”
“I’ve already seen some of it, through him and now through you. Seen what’s trapped in your minds. But I can’t feel unless I go in. I can’t feel or see what she saw and felt unless I go in. I might help, I might not, but he needs it.”