by J. D. Robb
“What apartment?”
“Spooky Selina and Asshole Alban.” He shrugged a shoulder, but the movement was more nervous than cocky. “I watched one of their devil shows.” His hand wasn’t quite steady as he picked up his drink and sucked down the last of the Pepsi.
“They let you observe a ceremony?”
“They didn’t let me do anything. They didn’t know I was there. You could say I let myself in.” He glanced at Roarke. “Their security isn’t nearly as jazzy as yours.”
“There’s good news.”
“You’ve been a busy boy, Jamie,” Eve said evenly. “Planning on cat burglary as a career?”
“No.” He didn’t smile. “I’m going to be a cop. Like you.”
Eve blew out a breath, scrubbed her hands over her face, and sat. “Cops who make a habit of illegal entry end up on the wrong side of a cage.”
“They had my sister.”
“Were they holding her against her will?”
“They messed with her mind. That’s the same thing.”
Touchy area, Eve mused. She couldn’t go back and stop the kid from breaking into private property. His grandfather had been a solid cop, she remembered, and had tried to do the same. The boy had simply succeeded.
“I’m going to do you a favor because I liked your grandfather. We’re going to keep this off the record. As far as the record goes, you were never there. Never inside that place. You got that?”
“Sure.” He jerked a shoulder. “Whatever.”
“Tell me what you saw. Don’t exaggerate, don’t speculate.”
Jamie’s lips curved a little. “Grandpa always said that.”
“That’s right. You want to be a cop, give me a report.”
“Okay. Cool. Alice was in Weird City, right? She’d been cutting classes, making noises about dropping out. Mom was really wrecked over it. She thought it was a guy, but I knew it wasn’t. Not that she was talking to me. She’d stopped talking to me.”
He broke off then, his eyes dark and miserable. Then he shook his head, sighed once, and continued. “But I knew her. Alice would get all moony over a guy, dreamy-eyed and spastic. But with this, she was different. I figured she’d started experimenting. Illegals. I know my mom had talked to my grandfather, and he’d talked to Alice, but nobody was getting anywhere. So I figured I’d check it out. I followed her a couple times. I thought it would be good practice. Surveillance. She never tagged me. None of them did. A lot of people don’t see kids, or if they do, they think they’re harmless idiots.”
Eve kept her eyes hard on his face. “I don’t think you’re harmless, Jamie.”
His lips twisted in a smirk. He recognized that Eve’s statement wasn’t exactly flattering. “So I tailed her to that club. The Athame. First time I had to wait outside. I wasn’t prepped for it. She went in about ten, came out about twelve, with the ghoul patrol.”
He smirked again when Eve lifted a brow. “Okay, subject exited premises in the company of three individuals, two male, one female. You already got their descriptions, so I’ll say they were later identified by investigator as Selina Cross, Alban, and Lobar. They proceeded east, on foot, then entered multiunit housing structure owned by Selina Cross. Investigator observed light go on in top window. After weighing the options, investigator decided to enter building. Security was bypassed with minimal to average effort. Can I have another Pepsi?”
Saying nothing, Roarke took the empty tube, slipped it into the recycling slot, and fetched the boy another.
“It was really quiet inside,” Jamie continued as he broke the seal. “Like dead. Dark. I had a minilight, but I didn’t use it. I got upstairs, bypassed the palm plate and the cameras. The locks weren’t that tricky. I figure they didn’t think anybody’d have the nerve to come that far without an invite, you know? I got inside and the place was empty. I couldn’t figure it. I’d seen them go in, I’d seen the light, but the place was empty. So I poked around. They’ve got some screwy stuff in there. And it smelled…off. Sorta like the incense and junk in a Free-Agers’ shop, but different. Just off. I was in one of the bedrooms. There’s this wild statue in there. This guy with a pig head and a man’s body with a really monster cock at full alert.”
He stopped, flushed a little as he remembered he was talking to females as well as cops. “Sorry.”
“I’ve seen cocks at full alert before,” Eve said mildly. “Go on.”
“Okay. So I was just sort of looking at it, and this guy comes in. I thought, Shit, I’m busted, but he didn’t see me. He got something out of a drawer, turned around, and walked out. Never even looked my way.” Jamie shook his head, sipped deeply, as he reexperienced the bowel-liquefying fear. “I got to the doorway just as he was going through the wall. Secret panel,” he explained with a quick grin. “I thought they were only in old videos. I gave it a couple of minutes and went in after him.”
At this, Eve simply pressed her hands to her face, digging her fingers into the knots. “You went in after him.”
“Yeah, my luck was holding pretty good. There’s this stairway, narrow. I think it was stone. I could hear music. Not really music, more like voices, sort of humming. And that off smell was stronger. The stairway turns and there’s this room. About half the size of this one, with mirrored walls. Lots of candles and more horny statues. It’s smoky. Something’s in the smoke, because it makes me light-headed. I try to be careful not to breathe too much in.”
He stared down at the drink in his hand. This part was hard, he realized. Harder than he’d thought it would be. “There’s this raised platform, all this carving. Some sort of words, I think, but I can’t make it out. Alice is lying on it. She’s naked. The three of them are standing over her saying something. Singing it, I guess, but I can’t understand them. They’re doing things to her, to each other.”
He had to swallow again. His face was bone white with high, red blotches on the cheeks. “They’ve got like sex toys and she’s…letting them. Both of them. And she lets them, she lets them do her while that Cross bitch watches. Alice just lets them…”
Without realizing it, Eve reached out, took his hand, let him grip her fingers hard enough to rub bone.
“I couldn’t stay there. I was sick, seeing that, and the smoke, the sounds. I had to get out.” His eyes were wet now as he looked up. “She wouldn’t have let them do that if they hadn’t messed with her mind. She wasn’t a slut. She wasn’t.”
“I know. Did you tell anyone?”
“I couldn’t.” He swiped the back of one hand over his face. “It would’ve killed my mom. I wanted to hit Alice with it, hit her hard with it. I was so pissed off. But I couldn’t. I was embarrassed I’d seen her like that, I guess. My sister.”
“It’s all right.”
“I went back to the club a couple nights later and got in.”
“They let you inside?”
“I got fake ID. Places like that, they don’t care if you look twelve if you got ID that says different. Security’s tighter there. They’ve got scanners, electronic and human, every damn where. I spotted Alice with that Lobar creep. They went upstairs, all the way up to the fancy level. I couldn’t get in, but I got close enough to see they’d disappeared again. So I figure there must be a room up there, too. Like the one in the apartment. I was working out a way to get in after hours, then Alice ditched them. She moved in with that Isis character for awhile, got her own place and that job. And she didn’t go to the club anymore, or back to the apartment.”
He let out a sigh. “I thought she’d straightened herself out, that it had gotten through what creeps they were. She talked to me a little.”
“Did she tell you about the people she’d been involved with?”
“Not really. She just said she’d made a mistake, a terrible one. That she was like, atoning, cleansing, that zip brain stuff of hers. I knew she was scared, but she talked to my grandfather, so I figured things would be mellow again. Did they kill him, too?”
“There�
��s no evidence of that. I’m not going to discuss it with you,” she added when he lifted his haunted eyes to hers. “And you’re not to discuss this with anyone. You’re not to go near that club or that apartment again. If you do and I find out—and I will find out—I’ll slap a security bracelet on you and you won’t be able to burp without a scanner picking it up.”
“It’s my family.”
“Yes, it is. And if you want to be a cop, you’d better learn that if you can’t be objective, you can’t do the job.”
“My grandfather wouldn’t have been objective,” Jamie said quietly. “And now he’s dead.”
She had no answer for that, so she rose. “Now the problem is getting you out of here and keeping your involvement out of the media. They’ll be watching the gate.”
“There’s always an alternative,” Roarke commented. “I’ll arrange it.”
She had no doubt he could, and nodded. “I’ve got to change, get down to Central. Peabody.” She flicked a meaningful look in Jamie’s direction. “Stand by.”
“Yes, sir.”
“She means guard dog me,” Jamie muttered as Eve and Roarke left the kitchen.
“Yeah.” But Peabody flashed a companionable smile. “Want another Pepsi?”
“I guess.”
She got up to play with the delivery slot on the fridge, helped herself to a cup of Roarke’s magnificent coffee. “So how long have you wanted to be a cop?”
“For as long as I remember.”
“Me, too.” She settled down to talk shop.
“I’ll take him out by air,” Roarke told her as he and Eve cleaned up and changed in the bedroom.
“By air?”
“I’ve been meaning to take the minichopper out for a spin, anyway.”
“This area isn’t zoned for personal choppers.”
Wisely, he disguised a laugh with a cough. “Say that again when you’re wearing your badge.”
She muttered to herself and pulled on a clean shirt. “Take him home, will you? I appreciate it. The kid’s lucky to be alive.”
“He’s resourceful, bright, focused.” Roarke smiled as he picked up the jammer, admired it. “Now, if I’d had one of these at his age…ah, the possibilities.”
“You do well enough with your magic fingers.”
“True.” He tucked the jammer in his pocket. He was going to have one of his engineers analyze and very possibly reproduce it. “I’m afraid youth today doesn’t appreciate the satisfaction of hands on. If young Jamie changes his mind about law enforcement, I think I could find a nice slot for him in my little world.”
“Don’t even mention it. You’ll corrupt him.”
Roarke picked up his slim gold wrist unit, fastened it on. “You did very well with him. Firm without being cold. A nice, authoritative, yet maternal style.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“You’re good with children.” He grinned as she paled.
“I’d wondered.”
“Get a grip. A good strong grip,” she advised and strapped on her weapon harness. “I’m going to hit Central first, file my report, feed Whitney the data that’s not going into it. Officially, Jamie’s name isn’t going to be linked with this. I’m sure, if necessary, the two of you can work out a plausible story for his mother.”
“Child’s play,” Roarke said with tongue in cheek.
“Hmm. From my prelim, Lobar was killed at oh three thirty. That would be about an hour after we left the club. Hard to tell how long he’d been propped outside the gate, but at a guess, no more than fifteen minutes or so before Jamie happened on him. It’s not likely that whoever left Lobar hanging, let’s say, stuck around. But if they did, and spotted Jamie, he could be a target. I want the kid under surveillance, and until Whitney uncuffs me, I can’t use a cop.”
“Would you like me to put one of my trusted employees on him?”
“No, but that’s what I’m going to ask you to do.” She turned to the mirror, raked fingers through her hair in lieu of a comb. “I’m bringing this home, too many angles of it. I’m sorry.”
He walked to her, turned her around, caught her face in his hands. “You can’t separate what you do from who you are. I don’t expect or want you to. What touches you, touches me. That’s what I expect and what I want.”
“The last case that touched me almost killed you.” She wrapped her hands around his wrist, squeezed. “I need you too much. It’s your own fault.”
“Exactly.” He bent down, kissed her. “That’s what I want as well. Go to work, Lieutenant.”
“I’m going.” She strode to the door, paused, glanced back. “I don’t want to hear from Traffic that my husband was hotdogging the skyways in his minichopper.”
“You won’t. I bribe too well.”
It made her laugh as she headed back down to fetch Peabody and face the first media onslaught.
She’d no more than strapped into her vehicle when she heard the throaty purr of an expensive engine. Wincing only a little, she glanced east and saw the sleek little copter with its tinted one-way glass cabin and whirling silver blades rise, circle playfully—and illegally—before bulleting off.
“Wow! What a machine. Is that Roarke’s? Have you been up?” Peabody craned her head to try to get a last look. “That is one rapid mother.”
“Shut up, Peabody.”
“I’ve never been up in a personal.” With a wistful sigh, Peabody settled. “Makes the units Traffic use look like dog meat.”
“You used to be intimidated when I told you to shut up.”
“Those were the good old days.” Grinning, Peabody crossed her ankles. “You handled the kid really well, Lieutenant.”
Eve rolled her eyes. “I know how to interview a cooperative witness, Peabody.”
“Not everybody can handle a teenager. They’re brutal, and fragile. That one’s seen more than anyone should.”
“I know.” So had she by that age, Eve remembered. Perhaps that’s why she’d understood. “Prepare yourself, Peabody. The sharks are circling.”
Peabody grimaced at the pack of reporters crowded outside the gate. There were minicams, recorders, and hungry looks. “Gee, I hope they get my best side.”
“Tough when you’re sitting on it.”
“Thanks. I’ve been working out.” Automatically, Peabody wiped off the grin and assumed a blank, professional expression. “I don’t see Nadine,” she murmured.
“She’s around.” Eve hit the remote for the gates. “Furst wouldn’t miss this one.” She timed it, opening the gates seconds before the nose of the car would have brushed iron. Reporters streamed forward, engulfing the car, aiming their cameras, shouting their questions. One or two were ballsy or stupid enough to step onto private property. Eve took note, switched the volume on her outside speakers to blast.
“The investigation is ongoing,” she announced. “There will be an official statement at noon. Any media representative who trespasses on this property will not only be prosecuted but will be blocked from all data.”
She all but slammed the gates on scrambling feet. “Where the hell are the uniforms I left on duty?”
“Probably eaten alive by now.” Peabody stared through the reporter who plastered himself against her side of the windshield. “This one’s kind of cute, Lieutenant. Try not to damage his face.”
“His choice.” She kept driving. Someone bounced off her fender and cursed. There was a slight bump, and a very loud scream.
“That’s ten points for the foot,” Peabody commented, secretly thrilled. “See if you can swipe that one there. The woman with the yard of legs in the green suit. That’ll get you five more.”
The reporter clinging to the windshield slid off as Eve juggled the wheel. “Missed her. Well, can’t win them all.”
“Peabody.” Eve shook her head, hit the accelerator, and headed downtown. “Sometimes I worry about you.”
She wanted to see Whitney first, but wasn’t surprised to find Nadine waiting in ambush at
the first-level interior glide at Central.
“Busy night, Dallas.”
“That’s right, and I’m still busy. There’ll be a press release by noon.”
“You can give me something now.” Nadine elbowed her way onto the glide. She wasn’t a big woman, but she was a sneaky one. You didn’t get to be one of the top on-air reporters in the city without some quick moves. “Just a nibble, Dallas. Something I can take to the public for my ten o’clock bumper.”
“Dead guy,” Eve said shortly, “identification withheld until next of kin are notified.”
“So you know who he was. Got any leads on who opened his throat?”
“My professional opinion would be someone with a sharp implement,” Eve said dryly.
“Um-hmm.” Nadine’s eyes narrowed. “There’s a rumor rolling around that there was a message left at the scene. And that it was a ritual killing.”
Goddamn leaks. “I can’t comment on that.”
“Wait a minute.” At the top of the glide, Nadine took Eve’s arm. “You want me to hold something, you know I’ll hold it. Give me something, and let me work.”
Trusting the media was a dicey business, but she’d trusted Nadine before. To their mutual benefit. As a research tool, Eve knew Nadine was a finely honed instrument. “If it was a ritual killing, which is not substantiated and not for broadcast, my next step would be to gather all pertinent data on established cults and their members—registered and otherwise—in the city.”
“There are all kinds of cults, Dallas.”
“Then you’d better get busy.” She shook her arm free before dropping one more crumb. “Funny, cult must be the root word for occult. Or maybe it’s just a coincidence.”
“Maybe it is.” Nadine swung to the downward glide. “I’ll let you know.”
“That was tidy,” Peabody decided.
“Let’s hope it stays that way. I’m for Whitney. I want you to find out the names of every uniform that was on scene this morning. I want to have a talk about internal security with every one of them.”
“Ouch.”
“Damn right,” Eve muttered and stalked to the elevator.