by J. D. Robb
She looked at Roarke. “Can you compromise their security by remote?”
“I can, yes.”
“Once the security is down, we go in fast. The priority is to locate and secure the safety of the subject. Peabody, you and Trueheart will head that. McNab, I need you and Roarke to take down any electronics, including droids. Baxter, that leaves the suspects to you and me. They resist, they’re restrained.”
“Any and all means?”
“I want them talking. Walking’s optional. Communicators on Channel A throughout. I want to know the minute the subject is located, and her condition. Here’s how we move.”
She turned back to the wall screen where she’d sketched the bones of the East End mansion.
When she’d finished, she went to the bedroom, strapped on her clutch piece, checked her primary weapon and her restraints. Then, because her eyes felt hot and gritty, she ran ice-cold water in the bathroom sink.
Sucking in her breath, she plunged her face into it.
She came up gasping, then her eyes met Roarke’s in the mirror over the sink. “Don’t tell me I’m burning low.”
“I don’t need to state the obvious, the other portion of that being this can’t wait until you’ve recharged.”
“You either.” Still dripping, she turned, touched his cheek. “You look pale. You hardly ever do.”
“The past couple of days remind me that you couldn’t pay me twice what I already have to be a cop.”
“It’s not about the money, it’s about the adventure.” When he laughed, she grabbed a towel, scrubbed it over her wet face. “I think about that dream I had where all this was tangled together. And son of a bitch, it was. It is. If I’d seen it before—”
“How?”
“I don’t know, but if I had, Tandy would be at home in her own bed right now, and Bullock, Chase, and the rest of them would be in cages.” She tossed the towel aside. “Jesus, Roarke, Jesus, the way I went in there tonight, got in their face. I put the pressure on them, and if they panic because of that, or push up the schedule…She was in there. Goddamn it, Tandy was in there, I know it. While we sat there and that bitch poured tea.”
“And we wouldn’t know that yet if you hadn’t followed a hunch and sent Peabody and McNab back to Sloan’s to look for records. No one found the others, Eve. No one got close to finding them. Remember that.”
“I will, when and if we do find her, and she’s still breathing.” She checked the time. “I’m not waiting any longer for the warrant. Let’s line it up and knock it down.”
Sometime in the last hour it had started to snow. Thick, fat, wet flakes. Her team and the electronics Roarke and McNab had selected for the op were loaded into one of Roarke’s burly all-terrains.
As they rode, she visualized the interior of the Bullock house. Wide foyer, stairs to the left, living area to the right. Glass doors on east wall to terrace. Possible escape route.
But they wouldn’t run, she didn’t believe they’d run. They were too steeped in their own importance to run.
Chase wouldn’t be served with the mandatory until morning. She bet he and Mommy were both sleeping the sleep of the conscienceless by now. And they were about to get a nasty wake-up call.
Roarke stopped the van a half-block down and across the street from the mansion. “Let’s break out the toys, Ian.”
“Ahead of you.”
McNab sat crosslegged on his seat working the controls of a small keyboard. “Now this is frosty. I already programmed the coordinates. Ready to engage, if you’re set.”
“Baxter? Why don’t you change seats with me.” Though he made his way to the back, Roarke let McNab work the controls. “Go ahead.”
“Infrared and heat sensors engaged. Image on-screen—this bitch is fast! Okay, looks like we got two warm bodies, second level. Horizontal. Sleepy-by. Same room, same bed. I thought we were looking for mother and son.”
“We are,” Eve said as something twisted in her belly.
“Oh. Sick. Two warm bodies,” he repeated. “Second level, east, second room.”
“Only two,” Eve demanded and he sent her an apologetic look.
“That’s what I’m getting. Showing body heat, heart rate, mass and density, height and weight. This is wild-ass equipment, and it gives me the droid count—three first level, one third—but I’m not seeing any sign of a third human. And neither one of these images shows a baby on board.”
“Ian,” Roarke murmured, “have a look here.” Roarke tapped an area on the third level with a fingertip.
“Blank space where there can’t be blank space. Cold room. Jeez, I must be slipping. It’s shielded against the sensors.”
“Can you get by them?” Eve demanded.
“This’ll take a few minutes,” Roarke told her.
“I’m not waiting. We’re on go—” She broke off when her ’link beeped. “Reo. Tell me you got it.”
“I had to sell what’s left of my soul and my hot date went cold. You better bring in the goods, Dallas. Warrant coming through now.”
“Good work, Reo.”
“Tell me about it. You find the woman, you tag me. The minute.”
“Done. One more favor.”
“You’re racking them up.”
“Contact Lieutenant Jaye Smith. She’s MPU. Fill her in on this. I didn’t want to pull her in when the warrant was still hanging.”
“Oh, well, sure, happy to be your message droid. Anything else while I’m—”
Eve clicked off. “We’re a go.”
“I’m not clear here yet.”
“Leave it,” Eve told Roarke. “Peabody, Trueheart, you’re in behind me and Baxter, straight up to the third level. You take that room. Roarke, McNab. You sweep the main level, then work up. Take down the security,” she ordered.
Though she could see irritation flicker over his face because he hadn’t finished the first task, Roarke picked up a sleek little jammer, climbed out of the car, and strolled down the block.
Eve wasn’t sure if he required the proximity to the target, or didn’t care to have a load of cops watch his method of shutting down a high-end security system in just under thirty-five seconds.
“Secondary system’s activated.” His voice was cool and breezy when she joined him. “I need to bypass the automated alarm, if you want the household unaware.”
“I do. How long have you got?”
“Another twelve seconds.”
She watched the time count down on a grid of the jammer, while a flashing series of others blurred by on another grid. They stopped, the jammer beeped. And the time showed three seconds to spare.
“Secondary coming up. And there we are.”
She signaled the others, then jogged across the quiet, snowy street. “Record on,” she murmured, then nodded to Roarke.
The recorders might have been activated, but she turned her body just enough to keep his hands out of their range as he crouched to begin work on the locks.
When it was done, she used hand signals to remind the team which direction each unit was to take. To Baxter she said, “I go low.”
“Suit yourself.”
He went through with her, weapons drawn. Behind them, Roarke and McNab peeled to the right.
“This is the police!” Eve shouted as she charged up the steps with Peabody and Trueheart behind. “We have a warrant to enter these premises, to search same, and to seize any items relating to the terms of the warrant. Go, go,” she ordered Peabody, then swung off the steps with Baxter on the second level.
She heard something crash below, and kept going.
Chase burst out of the room on the left, hastily tying the belt of a plaid robe.
“What is the meaning of this? This is outrageous.”
Eve held up the warrant. “This is America, and we love the outrageous. You will cooperate with the terms of this warrant, or be restrained and removed from the premises. I’m hoping you’re not feeling cooperative.”
“I’m rin
ging our solicitor, immediately.” Madeline’s robe was bright red, her pale hair loose. And without the carefully applied enhancements, Eve counted a good five years older. She stood, vibrating with rage, in the doorway beside her son.
Her lover.
“Help yourself. Detective Baxter will be happy to accompany you.”
“Detective Baxter can go to hell, and so can you. This is my home. This is my bedroom.” She gestured dramatically behind her. “No one enters without an invitation.”
“Invitation,” Eve said, holding up the warrant again. Then she reached behind and jiggled her restraints. “You want a new set of bracelets?”
Fury blotched her cheeks with red. “Win, say nothing. Do nothing. I’ll not only have your job before this night is done, Lieutenant, I’ll have your hide.” The skirts of the robe swirled out as she spun back into the bedroom.
“Got a flair, doesn’t she?” Eve said conversationally. “You always do what she says, Win? You a good boy and mind your mommy, even when you’re diddling her?”
“How dare you, you filthy-minded whore.”
“Call them as I see them. Did your mother tell you to torture Natalie Copperfield before you killed her, or was that your idea?”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Right, Mommy told you to be quiet. It’s okay. When we finish searching the house we’ll have everything we need. I know Tandy’s on the third floor. I’ve got two cops upstairs right now, getting her out of your cold room.”
She saw it in his eyes, so when he yanked the stunner out of his robe pocket she was ready. She kicked out, disarming him, then pivoted when he charged so the fist he struck out with glanced off her shoulder. The elbow she jabbed into his solar plexus doubled him up, but he used his forward motion to ram her like a bull. Adrenaline pumped into her as her back hit the wall, and his hands closed around her throat. When her knee came up, hard, between his legs, the air wheezed out of him so he deflated like a balloon.
“By not cooperating you made my night. Now, Winfield Chase, you’re under arrest for assaulting an officer.” She bent down to roll him onto his face, yank his arms behind his back, and slap on the restraints. “And believe me when I say that’s just the beginning.”
She looked up in time to see Madeline run out of the bedroom, her hands curled like claws, her face murderous. Even as Eve sprang up, Baxter leaped out of the doorway and took Madeline down with a flying tackle.
“Sorry, Dallas. She got away from me.”
“No problem.” She rolled her shoulder, watched Roarke and McNab come up the stairs.
“First level’s secure, Lieutenant,” McNab told her. “Three droids—one servant, two security. They’re down.”
“And so are these two. McNab, help Baxter keep them down. Roarke and I are going up.”
20
ON THE THIRD LEVEL A DROID IN A PALE GREEN lab coat was sprawled on the floor against an overturned chair.
“We had to take it down.” Peabody pulled her master out of a lock slot in a door designed to blend into the wall.
Trueheart crouched in front of a small comp unit. “The droid must have deactivated this when it heard us come in.” Trueheart shook his head. “I can’t reactivate.”
“I’ll have a go at the lock.” Roarke took some tools out of his coat pocket.
“Looks like a medical.” Eve gave the droid a light boot with her foot. “Portable birthing equipment, fetal monitor.” She lifted her chin toward a roll cart. “Warming tray. Got your towels, your scale, and so on. I saw this stuff at the birthing class. She’s in there.”
“Must have cams on her,” Peabody said. “Droid could sit out here, monitor her on-screen. Suspects?”
“Down. McNab and Baxter have them. Call this in, Peabody. I want the suspects taken in. Put an ambulance and OB team on alert. Roarke?”
“It’s coming. Complicated little bastard.”
“Peabody, have uniforms pick up a copy of the warrant on Cavendish. I want him brought in now. And contact Reo and Lieutenant Smith, give them the situation. I want a warrant on Bruberry, too. Let’s have a big party down at Central.”
“I’ll pick up the hats and streamers.”
“Nearly there,” Roarke mumbled. “Aye, you shagging bitch, I’ve got you now.”
A dot of green light flashed along the narrow strip of chrome.
“Might have another guard inside,” Eve said, “So—”
“You go low,” Roarke finished.
With a nod, she shoved the door open. “Lights on,” she called out, swept the room with her weapon, with her eyes. “Tandy Willowby, it’s the police. It’s Dallas.”
Quiet classical music played, and the air smelled subtly floral. The walls were cheerfully warm yellow with paintings of meadows and calm blue seas. Cozy chairs, padded tables, snow falling gently outside the screened windows created a scene of comfort and ease.
In the bed, a pale, hollow-eyed Tandy sat up, gripping something white and sharp in her fist.
“Dallas?” Her voice was thin, rusty, and her body began to shake. “Dallas? They’re going to take my baby. They’re going to take him. I can’t get out.”
“It’s all right now. You’re all right now. We’re going to take you out.”
“They locked me in. I can’t keep the baby. I don’t have the right.”
“Bullshit. Peabody.”
“You don’t have to worry about them anymore. Here.” Peabody moved slowly toward the bed. “Why don’t you give me that now? We’ll get you a coat. We’ll take you to the hospital.”
“No, no, no!” Eyes wild, Tandy cringed back. “No hospital. They’ll take the baby.”
“They won’t.” Eve holstered her weapon and walked briskly to the bed. She held out her hand. “Because I won’t let them.”
Tandy dropped the thin, sharp plastic, then simply collapsed against Eve. “Please, please, please, get us out of here.”
“Here now.” Roarke took off his coat. “It’s cold outside. Put your arms in, there’s a girl.”
“Stay with me.” Tears streaming, Tandy gripped Eve’s hand. “Please, stay with me. Don’t let them take my baby. Who’s that? Who’s that?” She wrapped herself around Eve when she spotted Trueheart.
“He’s one of mine. He’s one of the good guys. Trueheart, go on down, assist Baxter and McNab. I want those people gone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You okay to walk, Tandy?”
“Out of here. I can walk out of here. The baby’s okay, he’s been kicking. I don’t want to go to the hospital, please. I don’t want to be alone. They might come back. They might—”
“You’d like to see Mavis, wouldn’t you?” Roarke kept his voice light and gentle as he helped her out of bed. “She’s at our place, and she’s been worried about you. Why don’t we go see Mavis now?”
Roarke gave Eve a long look as he helped Tandy out of the room.
“A little shocky,” Peabody commented. “Mostly just scared. How do you want to handle? I can go with her to your place while you take the suspects.”
Oh, how she wished. But she couldn’t very well dump two pregnant women on Roarke. “I’ll go with Tandy, get a statement out of her when she’s settled. Make sure the suspects are booked and caged for the night. They’re going to wait until morning for Interview. Let’s see how they like being locked up. Then go home, get some sleep.”
“I’m so all about that. Look at this room. All the comforts. Bastards.”
Eve called in Crime Scene, left Baxter, Trueheart, and McNab to work with them to process the room where Tandy had been imprisoned, to search the house. She hated leaving the scene, leaving the work, but climbed into the back of the vehicle. She had a victim who needed care.
“I was so scared.” Bundled in Roarke’s coat, covered with a blanket, Tandy sat in the front passenger seat. “I think they were going to kill me. Take the baby, then kill me. They left me in there. He came in once a day, every day. And he looked at
me like I was already dead. I couldn’t do anything.”
“Where’d you get the sticker?” Eve asked her.
“The what?”
“The plastic shiv you were holding.”
“Oh. They brought me food. The droid did. Have to keep the baby healthy, that’s what she said. Horrible thing, always cheerful. Even when she restrained me for exams. I palmed a couple of the plastic spoons—that’s all they brought in for me to eat with. Plastic spoons. And when they turned off the lights at night, I sawed and rubbed them together under the covers. Hours, it seemed like. I was going to hurt one of them. Somehow.”
“Wish you’d had the chance. Do you want to tell me what happened, or do you want to wait on that until later?”
“It was Thursday. I left work to walk to the bus stop. And she—her name is Madeline Bullock—she walked up to me. I was so ashamed. Before, in London when I found out I was pregnant, and things didn’t seem as if they were going to work out, I went to this agency. I was going to put the baby up for adoption. It seemed like the best thing to do. I—”
“We know about that. They’re running an operation, under the cover of the foundation. Selling babies.”
“Oh, God. God. I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re not,” Roarke told her. “You trusted them.”
“I did. I did. There were counselors, and they were so kind, so understanding. Ms. Bullock came in to meet me herself, and so did he. Her son. They said how I was giving a gift, to a worthy couple, and to my baby. I signed a contract, and they gave me money. For expenses, they said. Proper food, clothing. I had to agree to use their medical people, their facilities, but it was all so nice. I was to have regular care and monitoring, counseling, and the foundation would help me with lodging, and with education should I want to go back to school, or with career counseling. All of it.”
“A very sweet pot.”
“Yes, very sweet. But I changed my mind.” She wrapped her arms around her belly as she hunched in the seat. “I’d always wanted to make a family, to be a mother, and now I was denying myself. I’m smart enough, and strong and healthy. I’m not a child. I could make a good life for the baby. I took the money back. I’d hardly spent any, and I made up the difference with my savings.”