Visions In Death

CHAPTER 20

She didn't bother to hunt up a parking space, but doubled beside a clunky solar mini that looked as if it hadn't moved in six months.

Flipping the on duty light, she stepped out and ignored the shouted "Cops suck!" from the driver of a rusted compact stuck behind her. If she'd been feeling more chirpy, she'd have taken the time to stroll over and have a little chat with him.

Instead, because she couldn't help herself, she walked across the street and studied the bloodstains on the pavement.

"Laid in wait. That's his style. Maybe he followed her sometime, tracked her home sometime, and she didn't make the tail." But she shook her head even as she said it. "You can't just pop a cop's address out. You work at it, maybe you can finesse it, but there are blocks on cops" personal data. Had to tail her, or do some heavy hacking." She thought about the interview for Nadine, and the media conference. Both times she'd pushed Peabody forward.

"How long would it take a decent hacker to pop a blocked address?" "Depending on talent and equipment…" Roarke was studying the bloodstains as well, and thinking of Peabody.

Her steadiness, her sweetness. "Anywhere from an hour to a few days." "An hour? Jesus, why do we bother?" "It's a shield against the general populace. Tapping into a cop's data is an automatic flag for CompuGuard. It's a heavy risk unless you don't give a bloody damn, or you know how to get around the blocks and guards. You have any reason to think he's got above-average hacking skills?" "Just thinking. He knew his victims" schedules, their routes, their habits. Where they lived. And all but one lived without a partner." "Elisa Maplewood lived in a family unit." "Yeah, a family unit with the male portion of that unit out of the country. Maybe he factors that element in. He tailed them, yeah. Had to do some of that. And we've got Merriweather's comment about the big, bald guy on her subway. But he could've done some comp research. Gather as much data as possible. He takes risks, sure big ones.

But they're calculated. And the guy we're projecting doesn't blend. Merriweather spotted him. So I'm thinking he doesn't do extensive fieldwork." "Preps as much as possible by remote." "It's possible. Probable. He moved fast with Peabody.

Faster, I think, than the others. That's because she wasn't the standard for him. She's an add-on prove a point because he was pissed. Or threatened." She stayed as she was, tilted her head to look up at the apartment windows. "And you know what else?" "He didn't know enough about her to know there was another cop up there. Waiting for her. Or enough about the neighborhood to consider someone might spot him and try to help." "Didn't do as much research. Too mad, too threatened, in too much of a hurry."

Eve angled back to look down the street. "She takes the subway most times, and she wouldn't be looking for a shadow. He could've stalked her, like he stalked the others.

But I don't think it worked that way because she'd have made him. She'd have made a tail. She's got good eyes, good instincts." "Hacking her address would cut back on the time, and the risk of being seen." "Yeah. And she was putting in overtime. You have to log any assigned OF. If he could get her address, he could get her schedule, because when I hooked her with Feeney and brought you in, I plugged it into the system." He took her chin, turning her head so their eyes met. "Eve." "I'm not blaming myself." Or was trying not to. "I'm blaming him. I'm just trying to see how it went down, that's all. He nails her home location, knows she'll be late. If he knows all that, he knows she doesn't have a personal vehicle registered in her name, and that she'll most likely be on foot.

So he comes here, parks, and just waits. Patient bastard. He just waits until she comes along." "Still risky. This street's well-lighted, and she's less than a half a block from her door. And she's a cop, armed and able. It wasn't smart," Roarke said. "It wasn't like the others." "No, with her me he was pissed. Prove a point, like I said. But at the base of it, he doesn't figure she'll give him trouble. Not like she did. She's just a woman, and he's a big, strong man. Take her down, take her down, toss her in the back of the van, and poof." She crouched down, laid her hand on the stain of her partner's blood. "Where was he going to take her? Same place, same place he took the others, the ones before? The missings and presumeds." "She'll have gotten a good look at him. She'll be able to describe him more thoroughly, even more than Celina."

Eve glanced up. "If she remembers. Head trauma, she might not remember. But if she does, she'll make him. She's sharp and she notes the details. She'll be the one who takes him down. When she wakes up. If she remembers." Eve pushed to her feet. "Let's see what the witnesses saw.

We'll take the female first." "Essie Fort. Single, age twenty-seven. Paralegal at Driscoll, Manning, and Fort. Tax lawyers." Eve worked up a smile as they approached the building.

"You're handy." "We do what we can." He pressed the button for Fort in 3A.

While they waited, Eve turned, judged the distance between the door and the point of attack. A male voice came through the intercom. "Yeah?" "Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. We'd like to speak with Ms Fort." "I want to see your… oh, there it is," the voice said when she held her badge up to the security cam. "Come on up." He buzzed them in. And was waiting at the door when they got off on three. "Essie's inside. I'm Mike. Mike Jacobs." "You also witnessed the incident, Mr Jacobs?" "I'll say. Essie, Jib, and I were just coming out, going to head over and pick up Jib's date. And we… come on in.

Sorry." He opened the door wider.

"I stayed here last night. Didn't want to leave Essie alone.

She was pretty shook up. She's getting dressed." He glanced toward a closed door. "The woman who got beat up was a cop, right? Did she make it?" "She's holding her own." "Glad to hear it. Man, that guy was whaling on her." Mike pushed at his curly mop of blond hair. "Look, I was hunting up some coffee. You want?"

"No, thanks. Mr Jacobs, I'd like to get statements from both you and Ms Fort, and ask some questions." "No problem. We talked to some cops last night, but everything was messed up. Look, let me get this coffee, okay? We didn't get much sleep last night, and I need the jolt. Sit down or something. I'll try to move Essie along." She didn't want to sit, but she perched on the edge of a chair in bold red. Gave herself a moment to settle by glancing around the room. Lots of strong colors, weird, geometric art on the walls. A bottle of wine and a couple glasses left over from the night before.

Mike Jacobs was wearing jeans and a shirt he hadn't buttoned. Probably what he'd had on the night before.

Probably hadn't planned on staying the night.

New relationship maybe, without the understanding sex would follow an evening out.

But he'd stayed. And he had, according to McNab, come to Peabody's aid. Maybe he didn't think cops sucked.

The bedroom door opened. The woman who came out looked fragile and slight. Her hair was a short wedge of glossy, raven-wing black, and her eyes a blue strong enough to fit her decor, though they looked exhausted.

"I'm sorry. Mike said the police were coming up. I was getting dressed." "I'm Lieutenant Dallas." "Do you know her? The woman who was hurt. I know she's a police officer. I've seen her walking across the street.

She used to wear a uniform, but now she doesn't." "She's a detective now. She's my partner." "Oh." Those blue eyes filled sympathy, distress, fatigue, Eve didn't know. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Is she going to be all right?" "I…" Eve felt her throat close again. It was harder, somehow harder, to take concern from strangers. "I don't know. I need you to tell me exactly what you saw." "I we were going out." She looked over as Mike brought out two thick red mugs. "Thanks. Mike, would you tell it?" "Sure. Come on, let's sit down." He led her to a chair, and sat on the arm of it beside her. "We were coming out, like I said. We heard the noise as soon as we walked out the door.

Shouts, and well, the sounds you hear from a fight. He was a big guy. Seriously big. He was kicking her and shouting.

Kicking her when she was down. She pumped up her legs, knocked him back a little. It all happened really fast, and I think we all froze for a second or two." "It was just…" Essie shook her head. "We were all laughing and joking around, then we heard, and looked over.

It was just bam.

"He jerked her up, off the ground, just hauled her up." "And I screamed." "It got us moving," Mike continued. "Like holy shit, don't just stand here. We yelled, I guess, and Jib and I started running for them. He looked around, and he just threw her.

Like heaved her, you know?" "She went down so hard." Essie shuddered. "I could hear her hit the sidewalk." "But while she was airborne, there was this flash. I think she fired at him as she was flying." Mike looked at Essie and got a nod. "Maybe she hit him, I don't know. She went down hard, sort of rolled, like she was going to try to fire again, or get up or…" "She couldn't," Essie murmured.

"He jumped into the van. Moved like lightning, but Jib said he thought the guy was holding his arm. Like it was hurt? Anyway, he jetted. Jib chased the van for a few yards. Don't know what he'd've done if he'd caught it. But she was hurt really bad, and we figured that was more important. We were afraid to move her, so I was calling for an ambulance when the guy the other guy the cop comes running out." Fired at him, Eve thought. Flying through the goddamn air, but she'd fired at him. And had held onto her weapon. "Tell me about the van." "Black or dark blue. Almost sure it was black. It was new, or really well kept. Lieutenant… I'm sorry." "Dallas." "It happened really fast. Like-" He snapped his fingers.

"And we were all yelling and running, so it's pretty jumbled up. I tried to catch the plate, but it was dark, and I couldn't make it out. It had windows on the side, and in the cargo doors. They might've been blacked out or covered, I couldn't tell, but there were windows." "You may think it's jumbled, Mr Jacobs, but every detail you're giving me matters. Tell me about the assailant. Did you see his face?" "We got a look. When he heard us yelling and turned our way, we got a decent look, I think. Essie and I spent some time last night trying to put it together. Hold on a minute." "He was like something out of a nightmare," Essie added when Mike went into the bedroom. "I couldn't sleep last night because I kept seeing him, and hearing the way it sounded when he threw her down." "I think this is the best that we've got." Mike came back in with a sheet of paper, handed it to Eve.

She felt her heart thud when she looked at the sketch. "You drew this?" "Art teacher." He smiled a little. "We only saw his face for a second or two, but I think that's close." "Mr Jacobs, I'm going to ask you to come into Central, work with an Ident artist." "Sure. I've got a class at nine, but I can call in. You want me to go in now?"

"It would be a great help if both of you, and Mr Jibson could go in. This sketch can be used in an ID program. And the three of you can help the police artist create the closest possible likeness." "I'll get a hold of Jib now, tell him to meet us there. Where do we go?" "I'll take you. Tell your friend to go to Level Three, Section B. Identification Procedure. I'll have him cleared and escorted." "Give me ten minutes." Eve got to her feet. "Mr Jacobs, Ms Fort, I want to tell you how much the department, how much I personally appreciate what you did last night, what you're doing now." Mike moved a shoulder. "Anybody'd do the same." "No. Not everybody."

Her luck was turning, Eve decided when she was able to collar Yancy as her Ident artist. There were others who were as good with a sketch or a comp-generated image, but Yancy had a way of helping a witness remember details, of talking them through the process.

"What's the latest with Peabody?" he asked Eve.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd been stopped with a variation of the question on her way through Central.

"No change." He looked down at the sketch she'd handed him. "We'll get this fucker." Her brows lifted. Yancy wasn't just known for his skill with imaging, but for his mild manner. "Count on it. I need you to run me a copy of that, for now." "Get that right for you." He moved to his imaging comp, slid the sketch in.

"He's got layers of sealant on his face and it distorts it some. You need to factor that. I know I shouldn't ask how long, but I have to." "I wish I could tell you." He handed her the copy. "How cooperative are they?" He nodded to the anteroom where the witnesses waited.

"Unbelievably. Almost make me want to hang up my cynic's cap and wear the badge of the optimist." "Then it'll be quicker." He studied the sketch again. "Artist is good. That'll help considerably. I'm pushing everything else aside till we have him for you, Lieutenant." "Thanks." She wanted to stay, watch the process, somehow hurry it along. She wanted to be at the hospital with Peabody, somehow bring her back. She wanted to yank and draw on every line and thread at once.

"You can't be everywhere, Eve." She glanced over at Roarke. "Shows? I feel like I'm running in place. Goal's in sight, but I'm stuck in this spot. Maybe you could contact the hospital again, charm some information out of somebody. I just make them mad." "People tend to get cross when someone threatens to pull their brains out of their nostrils." "You'd think they'd give me points for creativity. I'm too wired." She shook herself as they headed toward her division.

"Damn chemicals. You take the hospital, check in on Summerset. Talk the e-talk with Feeney, and I'll cut through the rest. Do you need me to find you a space?" "I'll manage." "Dallas!" Celina sprang off a bench. "I've been waiting.

They said you were on your way in. You haven't answered your voice or email." "Been busy. Getting to it." "Peabody." She clamped a hand over Eve's arm.

"She's holding. I'm really pressed, Celina. I can give you a few minutes in my office. You set?" she asked Roarke.

"I am, yes. I'll meet you out here." "I'm sorry." Celina pushed her hands through her luxurious hair. "I'm upset." "We all are," Roarke told her. "It was a long, difficult night." "I know. I saw…" "Let's take it in here." She led the way into her office, shut the door. "Have a seat." Though she knew caffeine wasn't the best idea at the moment, she wanted coffee. Ordered two.

"What did you see?" "The attack. On Peabody. God, I was in the tub. Hot bath before bed to relax me for today. I saw her walking sidewalk, buildings. He he just leaped out at her. It was like a blur, and the next thing I know I'm floundering around in the tub like a damn trout. I tried to contact you." "I was already in the field, and went straight to the hospital.

I haven't gotten to a lot of my messages." "He knocked her down. He was kicking her, and she was fighting him. He hurt her. It was terrible. For a minute, I thought she was dead, but-" "She's not. She's holding." Celina clutched the coffee in both hands. "She's not like the others. I don't understand." "I do. Just tell me what you saw. I want the details." "They're not clear. It's so damn frustrating." She set the mug down with a snap. "I talked to Dr Mira, but she won't budge on the time element for the next session. I wanted to go under immediately. I know, I know I'd see more. But I saw I heard screaming, shouting, and he threw Peabody down. I saw him jump into… It was a van. I'm sure it was a van. Dark. But everything seemed dark. He was hurt. There was pain." "She got to her weapon."

"Oh. Good. Good. He was afraid. I feel… it's hard to explain it, but I feel it. His fear. And not just of being seen, or caught, but of something else. More. Of not finishing? I want to know, I want to help. Can you convince Dr Mira?" "She won't budge for you, she won't for me." Sitting on her desk, Eve tapped her fingers on her knee. "If I could get a personal item from someone I believe was a victim, a previous victim, would you get anything from it?" "Very possibly." Excitement shone in Celina's eyes as she leaned forward. "It's more what I do. That connection. If I could link, I might see something." "I'll work on that. I don't know if I can be there for your session today. We've caught a break and I'm following it through. The witnesses from last night got a pretty good look at him." "Thank God. If you can identify him, this will be over.

Thank God." "I'll work on getting you something as soon as I can." "Anytime. Absolutely anytime. I'll come in as soon as you want me. I'm sick about Peabody, Dallas. Just sick about it."

Some time during the endless night, McNab dropped off in the chair beside Peabody's bed. He'd lowered the guard so he could reach her more easily, and when fatigue won, he rested his head beside her breast with his hand under the sheet and linked with hers.

He didn't know what woke him the pings of the monitors, the shuffle of feet outside the room, the light that spilled through the window. But he lifted his head, winced with the crick in his neck, rubbing it out as he studied her face.

They hadn't yet treated the bruising, and it broke his heart to see her face so damaged. It twisted his belly to see her so still.

"It's morning." He cleared the worst of the hoarseness from his voice. "Morning, baby. Ah, sun's out, but it looks like we might get some rain. You, ah, had a lot of people in and out, checking on you. If you don't wake up, you're going to miss all the attention. I was going to get you flowers, but I didn't want to leave you that long. You wake up, and I'll take care of that. Want some flowers? Come on, She-body, rise and shine." He slipped her hand out, pressed it to his cheek. There were nasty abrasions down the arm where it had skidded over the sidewalk.

"Come on, come on back. We got a lot to do, you know.

Moving day." He kept her hand there as he turned his head and watched Mavis come in.

She said nothing, only walked to him, laid a hand on the back of his head.

"How'd you get by the dragons?" "Said I was her sister." It made him close his eyes. "Close enough. She's still out." "Bet she knows you're here." Mavis leaned over, touched her lips to his cheek. "Leonardo's down getting her some flowers. She'll like having them when she wakes up." "We were just talking about that. Oh, Christ." He turned his head, pressed his face into Mavis's side as he fought to hold on.

She waited, stroking his hair until the tremors passed, and he was able to draw a steady breath. "I'll sit with her if you want to take a walk, get some air." "I can't." "Okay." He shifted, but stayed close so they watched the steady rise and fall of Peabody's chest together. "Louise checked on her a few times. I think she and Charles stayed most of the night."

"I saw him in the waiting area. Dallas?" "She's going after the bastard. She's hunting the animal who did this to her." "Then she'll get him." After giving him a pat, Mavis turned away to pull over a chair.

"Wait, sorry, let me get that. You shouldn't be hauling stuff." At best, the folding chair weighed four pounds, but she let him move it over for her. "McNab, there isn't a lot we – me and Leonardo can do. But we can move your stuff, set up your new place." "It's a lot of stuff. I don't want-" "We can do that, if you let us. Then when she's better, you can just, you know, carry her in. It'll be done. You need to be here, with her. We can do this for you. For both of you." "I… that'd be mag. Thanks, Mavis." "Hey, we're going to be neighbors." "You, ah, don't go lifting anything heavy. With that bun in the oven." "Don't worry." She rubbed a hand over her belly. "I won't." "I feel like I'm going to fall apart any second. Then the second passes, and it's the next, and I…" He jerked straight in the chair. "I think she moved. Did you see that?" "No, but I-" "She moved. Her fingers." He turned over the hand he held in his. "I felt them move. Come on, Peabody. Wake up." "I saw it that time." With her fingers gripping his shoulders, she leaned forward. "Look, she's trying to open her eyes. Do you want me to get somebody?" "Wait. Wait." He pushed up, leaned over. "Open your eyes, Peabody. You can hear me. No sliding back under again.

Come on, you're going to be late for your tour." She made some sound part gurgle, part moan, part sigh and he'd never heard sweeter music. Her lids fluttered, and her swollen, blackened eyes opened.

"There you are." The tears flooded his throat; he swallowed most of them and grinned at her.

"What happened?" "You're in the hospital. You're okay." "Hospital. Can't remember." "Doesn't matter now. You hurt anywhere?" "I… everywhere. God, what happened to me?" "It's okay. Mavis." "I'll get somebody." When she dashed out, McNab pressed his lips to Peabody's hand, "It's going to be okay now. I promise. Dee. Baby." "I was… coming home." "You'll get there. Soon." "Can I have drugs first?" He laughed, as tears rolled out of his eyes.

Eve caught herself leaning over Yancy's shoulder, and eased back.

"It's okay. Used to it. Let me tell you first, if everybody brought me witnesses like yours, my job would be a hell of a lot easier. Maybe a little boring." Then he glanced back at Roarke. "This is one of your programs." "So I see. It's one of the best image programs on the market though we're working on some upgrades. Still, it's only as efficient as its operator." "I like to think so." "Can you guys get back to your admiration session later?" "Well, take a look. Here's the sketch your wit brought in, and here's my revised image, after the session. See? We got a little more detail, subtle alterations, but they can boost time on an ID match." "Less Frankenstein," Roarke commented.

"Yeah. The behavior of the subject tends to influence the witness's memory of his physicality. They see this big guy pounding on a woman, and he takes on giant characteristics. Monster shit. But your wit had the basics, and he had them down. Square face, lots of forehead, shiny dome.

Knowing about the sealant lets me program that element.

The shades hamper the ID eyes are the best element for a match. But from here, we start building, using the program." He initiated, took the sketch through the building stages.

"Profile. Adding dimension, skull shape." Eve watched Yancy use a stylist to prompt the program, section by section, on the image.

"Ears, line of neck. Revolve to back view, other profile.

Full face. Shape of the mouth, nose, angle of bone. Get it to three dimensions, add skin tone. Okay, this is the best probability, given current data. To take it the last step, you have to go with a combo of your own judgment and the comp's. Remove shades." Eve stared at the eyeless face, felt a shudder run through her.

"Apt," Roarke stated.

"Yeah." "His eyes could be damaged, but for ID purposes, we're going to try the highest probabilities for the shape. Color's not an option, though I'd lean toward dark with this skin tone and the eyebrows. Highest percentage. Going that direction, this is what I get." Eve studied the finished image. The hard, square face, soft mouth, thick eyebrows over small, dark eyes. The nose was large, slightly hooked, the ears prominent against the bald skull.

"There he is," she said quietly.

"If it's not damn near close as a photograph, you can spank me," Yancy said. "I'll toss this to your office unit. Got you plenty of hard copies. I'll pass some out myself. You want me to run the ID match?" "Shoot it to Feeney in EDD. Nobody's faster." Then she glanced at Roarke, saw him smile. "Hardly. That's a hell of a job, Yancy. One hell of a job." "Your wits were gold." He handed her a stack of hard copies. "Tell Peabody we're pulling for her." "Bet your ass." She punched him lightly on the shoulder, a sign of affection as much as appreciation, and hurried out.

"Going to run for a match myself. Feeney'll probably beat me to it, but we'll get this started. And once we shit, shit, shit." She yanked out her beeping communicator. Seeing McNab's code on the readout, she stopped short. Instinctively, she reached for Roarke's hand as she answered. "Dallas." "She's awake." "On my way."

Eve all but sprinted down the hospital corridor, and when an ICU attendant held up a hand, she only snarled. "Don't try it." She surged through the door and straight into Peabody's room. And stopped short.

Peabody was propped up in bed, a vague smile on her battered face. The short counter under the single window had been transformed into a garden, with flowers jammed together in such abundance their scent overpowered even the hospital scent.

McNab stood beside her, holding her hand as if he'd been glued there. Louise was on the other side. And perched on a chair was Mavis, doing some blooming of her own in florid purple and green.

"Hey, Dallas." Peabody's voice was slightly slurred and absolutely cheerful. "Hello, Roarke. Jeez, he's just so gorgeous, what're ya gonna do? You gotta think about it."

Louise chuckled. "And who could blame you? You'll have to excuse her," she said to Eve. "They gave her something for the pain." "Something really, "specially good." Peabody grinned.

"Totally iced drugs." "How's she doing?" "Very well." Louise gave Peabody a light pat. "She's got more treatments in store. Tests, scans, therapy all that fussy medical business. And she'll need to be monitored carefully for a while yet. But they've bumped her all the way down to stable. She'll move to a standard room within a few hours if she stays stable. I expect her condition will be deemed good by the end of the day." "You see my face? I mean, whoa shit! Messed me up good.

They had to what was it reconstruct my cheekbone. I don't know why they couldn'ta done both while they were in there, and given me some. Cheekbones, you know? And he dislocated my jaw, so I'm talking funny. But it doesn't hurt a bit. I love drugs. Can I have more?" "Can you cut them back a little?" Eve asked.

"Aw." Peabody poked out her bottom lip.

"I need to talk to her, get her statement. I need her a little more coherent for that." "I'll check, see what I can do. But you'll need to keep it short." "She's in a lot of pain without them," McNab said when Louise stepped out.

"She'd want to do this." "I know." He sighed, smiled as Peabody examined the fingers of her free hand. "She's really wonked." "How come we don't have six fingers, you think? Six would be frosty. Hey, Mavis!" "Hey, Peabody." Mavis moved across the room, slid an arm around Eve's waist. "She says, "Hey, Mavis," about every five minutes," she whispered. "It's cute. I'm going to go out, sit with Leonardo and Charles while you do this part. Anybody you want us to tag to update them?" "We spread the word, but thanks. Thanks, Mavis." Louise and Mavis passed, going in and out. "I'm going to cut her IV down a little and give you ten minutes tops. She doesn't need to deal with pain right now." "Can I kiss Roarke first? Come on. Please, please, please!" Though Eve rolled her eyes, Roarke laughed and walked to the bed. "How about I kiss you, gorgeous?" "Not so pretty right now," she said. Coyly.

"You're beautiful to me. Absolutely beautiful." "Awwww, see? What're ya gonna do?" He leaned down, laid his lips softly on hers.

"Mmmm." She patted him on the cheek when he lifted his head. "Better'n drugs even." "Remember me?" McNab asked.

"Ah, yeah, skinny guy. Crazy about the skinny guy. He's just so cute. Got the cutest little butt. Oughta see it naked." "Louise, cut them back. Have mercy," Eve demanded.

"Takes a minute." "Stayed with me all night. Sweet boy. Love the sweet boy.

Heard you talking to me sometimes. You can kiss me, too.

Everybody can kiss me because… oh-oh." "Give me some room," Eve demanded. "Peabody." "Sir." "You get a look at him?" "Yes, sir." She drew a breath, shakily. "Jesus, Dallas, he messed me up. Came at me like a hell-god. I kept feeling stuff breaking and tearing inside me. Hell of a thing." Her fingers moved restlessly on the sheet, then dug in as she struggled with the pain. Eve covered it with hers, stilled it.

"I got to my weapon, though. I hit him. I know I did. Arm, shoulder maybe, but I nailed one in him."

"You see his vehicle?" "I didn't. Sorry. I just-" "Forget it. He say anything to you?" "Called me a whore. Whore cop." "You make the voice if you hear it again?" "Bet your ass. Sir. I think I heard him… It sounds weird, but I think he called for his mother. Or called me Mother.

Maybe it was me, calling for mine because, I can tell you, I wanted her." "Okay." "I can give you a full description." "I'm going to show you a picture. Tell me if it's him." She held it up, adjusting the position so Peabody could study it without moving.

"That's him. He had a lot of sealant on his face, but that's him. You got him?" "Not yet. We will. Can't take you on the bust because you'll be having your drug party, but we'll take him, and you're part of it." "Will you tell me when you've got him?" "You'll be the first." She stepped back, nodded to Louise. "You want to get sprung from here, you can recoup at our place if you need to." "Appreciate it. I… whee!" She laughed as the drugs bumped up. "That's more like it." "We'll be back," Eve promised. McNab was on her heels as she went out.

"Dallas? We're crapping out on the Transit discs. Since you got your ID, you won't need me on that anyway.

Anything else you need me to do?" "Get some sleep." "Not until." She nodded. "Stick with her. I'll let you know if anything comes up. I'll be back in a minute."

She strode away, headed straight for the woman's bathroom.

Inside, she just sat on the floor, pressed her hands to her face, and cried.

Her chest hurt with it, heaved with it as the pressure finally broke free. Her throat was raw, her head thumping as the emotions she'd stifled took over, poured out in a hot, violent flood.

And sucked her dry.

She started to spring up when she heard the door open, then stayed where she was when she saw Mavis.

She just lifted her hands, let them fall. "Shit, Mavis." "I know." Mavis settled down beside her. "Scared everybody. I had my jag already. You can go ahead, finish yours." "I think I did." But because she could, she let her head lean on Mavis's shoulder a moment. "Maybe after she's better, Trina could give her the full works. Peabody'd like that. She can be a real girl." "Good thinking. We'll have a complete girl party." "I didn't mean… sure, whatever. You got any sunshades on you?" "Do monkeys screw in the jungle?" She reached into the purple fringe worked into her shirt and drew out a pair of purple shades with green lenses.

"What the hell." Deciding they were marginally better than going around with red, swollen eyes, Eve put them on.

"Uptown!" "No, I'm thinking down." Eve got up, helped Mavis to her feet. "Thanks for the loan. I've gotta go bust this bastard."