by J. D. Robb
“Yeah. I’m looking at the daughter-in-law.”
“Oh?” Mira sat, leaned back while Eve ran quickly through her angle.
“What I’d like is for you to go with me to her hotel, or the hospital. I don’t know yet where she’ll be in an hour. I’m going to try to corner her at the hotel first. I know you’ve got plans. I can run you home myself after.”
“I suppose I could—”
“Good. Great.” Eve backed toward the door before Mira changed her mind. “I’ll come back and get you in an hour. I’m going to set it up.”
She hurried out, using her ’link to connect with Zana’s room at the hotel.
“I’m swinging by in about an hour,” Eve told her.
“Oh. I was hoping to go to the hospital. I just called, and they said Bobby was still sleeping, but—”
“I’ll make sure you get there.” Eve waited a beat. “How’s his condition?”
“Stable. They said he was stable. But they want to keep him another twenty-four hours at least. Observation. And we need to make some arrangements here before they’ll release him. I need to get a wheelchair, and these medications, and—”
“Why don’t you start arrangements for what you need from there? That way you’ll be set for him tomorrow. I’ll have a uniform take you to the hospital, get you home.”
“Well, all right, I guess. Since he’s asleep anyway.”
“Good. I’ll be there in an hour.”
She headed back to her office to write up an update for her commander. Halfway through, Slader stuck his head in the door.
“Got him wrapped, Lieutenant.”
“The brother? You got a confession?”
“Junkie brother comes home, see, and the other guy’s waiting for him. He’s found out some stuff’s missing from the apartment. His pricey wrist unit, some electronics, that kind of deal. Gonna confront his brother, kick him out. Brother comes in late, stoned to the eyeballs.”
“You got the tox to substantiate?”
“Yeah. Vic had enough shit in him to fly all the way to Pluto and back. Looks like he pawned the shit he took from his brother to buy the stuff. Guy tells him to take a hike, and they get into it. Now our guy says the dead brother threw the first punch. Maybe yes, maybe no.”
Slader shrugged. “But there’re swings on both sides. Asshole brother takes a header down the stairs, snaps his neck. Other guy panics, tries to set it up like he’d been in bed and the dead brother just took a tumble. We can squeeze him maybe on Man Two, but the PA doesn’t like it. Guy’s willing to cop to Man Three. So that’s how we’re doing it.”
“Good enough. Make sure the dead guy’s the one who pawned the merchandise. Check that before you sign off on the deal.”
“Partner’s doing that now. Checks out, we’re clearing it. Stupid bastard—the live brother—could’ve saved himself a lot of time and trouble he’d just copped to the fight. People just like lying to cops.”
Truer words, Eve mused as another thought occurred. Layers. Yeah, she might try peeling one.
In the garage, Mira studied the all-terrain. “This can’t be your city issue.”
“No. Roarke. Icy roads.” Eve shrugged as she climbed in. “This thing would probably transverse the Arctic Circle, so he’s satisfied I can navigate New York in it.”
“Well, I feel better in it.” Mira settled in. “I imagine there’s so little he can control regarding your safety, he pushes on the things he can.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“Dennis made noises about me staying home today.” Mira adjusted the softly patterned scarf around her neck. “I ended up having to arrange for a driver to satisfy him. It’s nice to have someone who’ll worry.”
“You think?” Eve glanced over as she reversed. “Maybe,” she decided. “Maybe it is. But it’s hard to know you’re always worrying them.”
“It used to annoy me.”
“Really?”
“Charlie, he’d say, why do you take such chances, dealing with people who revel in that kind of darkness? If you’re inside them, don’t you see they can get inside you?” She smiled a little, stretching out her legs luxuriously in the warmth. “We went around that one, and variations on the theme, quite a bit when I took the position with the department.”
“You had fights? You and Mr. Mira?”
“We’re married, of course we had fights. Have them. He may seem easygoing, but he’s got a mile-wide stubborn streak in him. I love it.”
She brushed her hair back as she turned her head to look at Eve. “I imagine we’ve had a few bouts that could compete with the rounds you and Roarke have. But they bought the package, didn’t they? Yours and mine, just as we bought theirs. So we find ways of dealing, of making it work. So you drive this big machine on a nasty day. Which, by the way, is a very sexy ride.”
Eve had to grin. “It is, isn’t it? So, how soon did the two of you bump heads?”
“Oh, God, we went at each other over buying our first sofa for our first apartment. You would have thought it was the most vital purchase we’d ever make. We ended up buying nothing for nearly a month because neither of us would give in. Then we settled on something completely different, opened a bottle of wine, and made very enthusiastic love on it.”
“It’s stress, right? Mostly stress and figuring each other out. People who haven’t been hooked up long, they’re starry-eyed, sure, and spend a lot of time boinking like bunnies, but they snipe at each other over little stuff. And you add major stress, and there ends up being some tension.”
“Generally speaking. Specifically speaking about the Lombards, I’d be surprised if there haven’t been some difficulties over the last several days. But often, most often, people tend to keep those private battles private.”
“But they show, especially to a trained observer. And these two look smooth as glass. She’s like the poster girl for wifely behavior. It just hits me wrong.” She shifted in her seat. “I know I’m not much in the wifely department, but it makes me want to take another sniff at her. Going out for coffee and bagels, the morning after your mother-in-law’s been bludgeoned to death? Come on.”
“It’s not unusual to do something basic, something everyday, to compensate for trauma.”
“Well, how about tapping room service, then? Sure, it was an economy hotel, but it ran to room service.”
“Devil’s advocate,” Mira said, holding up a hand. “She’s not used to that sort of thing, more used to doing the food shopping and preparation. I agree, it would’ve been simpler and more sensible under the circumstances, but it’s difficult to see that as suspicious behavior.”
“It’s more the ball of it. Of her. She does everything just so. Like she’s got some checklist. Okay, turn on the tears. Now be brave, bite your lip, turn the guileless, supportive look on your husband. But don’t forget your makeup and hair. There’s a certain vanity in there that doesn’t click with the rest of her.”
“You don’t like her.”
“You know, I don’t.” Stopped at a light, Eve tapped her fingers on the wheel. Naked fingers, she realized. She’d forgotten her gloves back at Central. “And there’s no reason not to like her, on the surface. So it’s my gut telling me she’s off. Something about her is off, that’s all. And maybe I’m just full of shit, maybe I’m reaching. So your impression’s going to weigh.”
“But no pressure,” Mira murmured.
“I’m telling her I’m bringing you along to counsel,” Eve continued as she parked. “Just to offer a hand since she’s had a couple of tough blows back-to-back.”
“And she’ll believe that?”
Eve smiled thinly. “She’s not the only one who can put on a show. You want to be careful getting out. That sidewalk’s going to be slick.”
“It’s nice,” Mira said easily, “to have someone worry.”
Vaguely embarrassed, Eve waited until the street was clear to climb out. Inside, she nodded toward security, then logged Mira in. “Any movem
ent upstairs?” she asked the woman on duty.
“None reported.”
“She order any food?” At the security woman’s raised brow, Eve spoke casually. “Just want to make sure she’s taking care of herself. Also, if my men have been hitting room service, I need to keep tabs for the budget.”
“I can check on that for you.”
“Thanks.” She moved to the elevator, got on with Mira. “Just want to see how well she’s taking care of herself,” she said to answer Mira’s unspoken question. “Be interesting to see what she’s been eating.”
She acknowledged her man on the door. “I want transportation for the witness to and from the hospital, but I want a delay. I don’t want her leaving for thirty minutes after I do. Got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
Eve knocked, waited. Zana opened the door with a quick, tremulous smile. “I’m so glad you’re here. I just talked with Bobby’s nurse, and she said he’s awake, so . . . Oh.” She stopped when she spotted Mira. “I’m sorry. Hello.”
“Zana, this is Dr. Mira. She’s a friend of mine.”
“Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you. Please come in. I can, uh, get some coffee?”
“That’s all right, I’ll take care of that in a minute. Dr. Mira’s a counselor. I thought, under the circumstances, you might want to talk to someone. Maybe Bobby, too. Mira’s the best,” Eve added with a smile, laying a hand on Mira’s shoulder to make it seem more friendly than official. “She’s helped me a lot with . . . issues.”
“I don’t know what to say. Thanks so much for thinking of me, of us.”
“You’ve been through some hard knocks. Survivors of violence don’t always understand the full extent of the stress they’re under. Talking to me, well, even though Bobby and I go back, you’re still talking to a cop. But if you think it’s out of line, then—”
“No, God. It’s so thoughtful of you. I’ve just been wandering around here, most of the night. No one to talk to. I’ve never talked to a counselor before. I don’t know where to start.”
“Why don’t we sit down?” Mira suggested. “Your husband’s condition has improved?”
“Yes. They said he’ll need to stay in the hospital another day, maybe two, then we can go to out-patient status. I don’t really understand all the medical terms.”
“I can help you with that, too.”
“Look, I’ll be in the kitchen. I’ll get the coffee, get out of the way.”
“I don’t mind if you stay,” Zana told Eve. “You know everything.”
“I’ll get the coffee anyway, give you a minute.”
Eve moved across the room, into the narrow alcove. And gee, she thought, if she pushed the wrong buttons on an unfamiliar AC unit, who could argue?
She could hear Zana’s voice, the thickness in it of suppressed tears. Oh, you’re good, she decided. But I’m better.
She ran a quick scan, replaying orders over the last twenty-four hours.
Cheese, raspberries, popcorn—extra butter. Bet somebody watched vids last night, Eve thought. And a hearty breakfast this morning: Ham omelette, toast, coffee, and orange juice.
She programmed for coffee, then eased open the minifriggie. Bottle of red wine, she noted. Maybe two glasses left in it. Soft drinks. Frozen nondairy dessert, double chocolate—half gone.
Trauma and tragedy didn’t seem to be affecting Zana’s appetite.
When she came back with the coffee, Zana was mopping at her face with a tissue. “It’s just one thing after the next,” she told Mira. “I can’t find my balance, I guess. We were coming here to have fun. Bobby wanted to treat me to a trip, to somewhere exciting I’d never been. Part of my Christmas present since his mama was so hot to come, you know. To talk to Eve, after all the years. And then, everything’s been so awful.”
She began to shred the tissue so pieces of it fell like snow into her lap. “Poor Bobby, he’s been trying to be so strong, and now he’s hurt. I just want to make it easier on him. Somehow.”
“I’m sure you are, just by being there for him. Still, it’s important that you look after yourself as well, and let yourself grieve for a woman you were close to. To go through that process, Zana. And to get rest, keep your health.”
“I can’t even think of myself right now. How can I?”
“I understand. It’s human to put ourselves to one side at times of crisis. Especially for women to do so,” Mira added and gave Zana’s hand a pat. “Bobby will need you, emotionally and physically in the days and weeks to come. It’s difficult—thank you, Eve—it’s difficult to lose a parent, any family member. But to lose one through violent means adds another layer, even more stress and grief. You’ve both had a shock, several in fact. I hope when you’re able to go back to Texas, you’ll find someone there to talk to. I can certainly give you a list of recommendations for counselors in your area.”
“I’d so appreciate that. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I’ve never talked to a counselor before.”
“You didn’t go to grief counseling when your mother died?” Eve asked.
“Oh, no. I didn’t even think about it. It’s just not the kind of thing I was raised to think about, I guess. I just . . . I don’t know, went on, I guess. But this is different, I can see that. And I want to do what’s best for Bobby.”
“Then you will.”
“If I could have a minute, Zana. We’re having trouble with the numbers you gave us. The ones your abductor made you memorize.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We’re not finding anything with those numbers. Actually, there are too many numbers. Do you think you could’ve gotten them mixed up, or added some?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Her hands fluttered up from her lap. “I was so sure. I kept repeating them over and over, like he said to. I even said them in my head after . . . after he left. But I was so scared. What should we do? What can I do?”
“We could try hypnosis.” Eve took a sip of coffee, met Mira’s eyes over the cup. “That’s another reason I brought Dr. Mira by today, so you could meet her, feel comfortable with her if we went this route. Dr. Mira often assists the department with this kind of thing.”
“It could be helpful.” Mira picked up the ball. “We could, under hypnosis, take you back to the abduction, take you through it, while making certain you feel safe and secure.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I just don’t know. Hypnosis.” She reached up, tangling her fingers in the trio of thin gold chains she wore around her neck. “I don’t know. The idea scares me some. I need to think about it. It’s hard right now to think of anything but Bobby.”
“It would be a way to help us find whoever killed Bobby’s mother.” Eve pressed a little harder. “And knowing the person responsible has been identified, apprehended, and will pay for what was done helps the healing process. Dr. Mira?”
“Yes, that’s very true. Why don’t I send you some information so you can see how this is approached? Help you understand the process a little better.”
“That’d be okay, I guess. But gosh, I don’t know. Just the thought of going through that again, even in my mind. It really scares me. I’m not strong like you,” she said to Eve. “I’m just ordinary.”
“Ordinary people do extraordinary things, every day.” But Mira smiled, rose. “I’ll get you that information, Zana, and I’d be happy to talk with you again, if you think I can help.”
“Thank you so very much. Thank you. Both of you.” Zana got to her feet, held out both her hands to Eve. “It means a lot to know you’re working so hard for us.”
“I’ll be in touch. I’ll arrange for transportation to the hospital. Someone will call up when it’s here. I’m going to try to get by to see Bobby, but if I don’t make it, give him my best.”
“I will.”
Eve waited until they were on the elevator. “What’s your take?”
“I don’t know how helpful I’m going to be to you. Her actions and reactions are well within the expe
cted range. Her responses plausible. I will say that—with your voice niggling in my ear—they were a bit too textbook. But the textbook was written simply because of these actions and reactions to trauma and violence.”
“She balked at hypnosis.”
“So do you,” Mira pointed out. “It’s often the first reaction to the suggestion.”
“Me going under isn’t going to help find a killer. If she’d agreed to it, I’d’ve lost a million-dollar bet with myself. She had popcorn last night.”
“Comfort food.”
“And a bottle of wine’s in there, nearly empty.”
“I’d be surprised if she hadn’t had a few drinks.”
“You’re right,” Eve said irritably. “You’re not being helpful. She had herself a big, fat breakfast, and I’m betting she hit room service for a nice meal last night.”
“Not everyone goes off food with stress. People often use food as comfort, often overeating, in fact, to compensate. It can swing either way, Eve. We both know what you’ve got is instinct, and no evidence. Not even circumstantial at this point.”
“Shit. See if I give you a ride home next time.”
Eve got off the elevator, headed straight for security. “Have you got those room service orders?”
“I do. Nothing from your men. Our guest ordered roast chicken with new potatoes and carrots. She also had a starter of crab salad, and ended with key lime pie. A bottle of merlot went with that, as well as a bottle of spring water.”
“Good appetite,” Eve commented.
“Yeah. Sounds like she’s working to keep her strength up.”
Eve heard the cynicism, appreciated it. “I’m going to want a record of any calls she made on the room ’link.”
“I thought you would. Three outgoing. One to the hospital last evening, two to the hospital this morning. No incoming.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Eve strode out. “God damn if somebody lolls around drinking wine and eating pie when her husband’s racked up in the hospital. Would you?”
“No. And neither would you. But eating pie isn’t a crime, and I can’t tell you it’s out of the normal scope of reactions.”