by J. D. Robb
“Command isn’t required to explain. They honored their fathers, as I honor mine. There’s no other choice.”
“You signaled Weeks to move in on me, and he didn’t have a clue what it was going to cost him. You had Vinter sabotage the cameras, and when she realized why, you killed her.”
“They were necessary losses. Justice requires payment. You were going to be my last gift to him. You in a cage,” he said to Roarke. “You in a coffin.” He smiled at Eve when he said it. “Why aren’t you giving your seminar, Lieutenant? Why the hell aren’t you where you’re scheduled to be?”
“I had a conflict of…” She shot to her feet. “Oh, God. Peabody.”
She charged through the door and out into the corridor. “What floor? What floor?”
“This way.” Roarke grabbed her hand, pulled her toward the elevator. “Down to four,” he said. “We’ll head left. Second door on the right takes us behind the stage area.”
“Explosives. He likes explosives.” She dragged out her communicator again as she willed the elevator to hurry. “She’s turned hers off. Son of a bitch! Any officer, any officer, clear Conference Room D immediately. Clear the area of all personnel. Possible explosive device. Alert Explosive Division. Clear that area now!”
She was through the door and streaking to the left.
I sent her there, was all she could think. And I smirked about it.
Oh, God, please.
There was a roaring in her ears that was either her own rush of blood, the noise of the audience, or the shouted orders to clear.
But she spotted Peabody standing behind the podium and leaped the three steps on the side of the stage. Leaped again the minute her feet hit the ground and, hitting her aide mid-body, shot them both into the air and into a bruised and tangled heap on the floor.
She sucked in her breath, then lost it again as Roarke landed on top of her.
The explosion rang in her ears, sent the floor under her shaking. She felt the mean heat of it spew over her like a wave that sent the three of them rolling in one ball toward the far edge of the stage.
Debris rained over them, some of it flaming. Dimly she heard running feet, shouts, and the sizzling hiss of a fire.
For the second time in two days, she was drenched with the spray of overhead sprinklers.
“Are you all right?” Roarke said in her ear.
“Yeah, yeah. Peabody.” Coughing, eyes stinging with smoke, Eve eased back, saw her aide’s pale face, glassy eyes. “You okay?”
“Think so.” She blinked. “’Cept you’ve got two heads, Dallas, and one of them’s Roarke’s. It’s the prettiest. And I think you’ve really gained some weight.” She smiled vaguely and passed out.
“Got herself a nice concussion,” Eve decided, then turned her head so her nose bumped Roarke’s. “You are pretty, though. Now get the hell off me. This is seriously undignified.”
“Absolutely, Lieutenant.”
While the med-techs tended to Peabody, and the Explosives Division cordoned off the scene, Eve sat outside the conference room and drank the coffee some unnamed and beloved soul had handed her.
She was soaked to the skin, filthy, had a few cuts, a medley of bruises. She figured her ears might stop ringing by Christmas.
But all in all, she felt just fine.
“You’re going to have a few repairs on this dump of yours,” she told Roarke.
“Just can’t take you anywhere, can I?”
She smiled, then got to her feet as Darcia approached. “Hayes is in custody. He’s waived his right to attorney. My opinion, he’ll end up in a facility for violent offenders, mental defectives. He’s not going to serve time in a standard cage. He’s warped. If it’s any consolation, he was very disappointed to hear you aren’t splattered all over what’s left of that stage in there.”
“Can’t always get what you want.”
“Hell of a way to skate out of giving a workshop, though. Have to hand it to you.”
“Whatever works.”
Sobering, Darcia turned. “We beat interplanetary deadline. Thanks.”
“I won’t say anytime.”
“I’ll have a full report for your files by the end of the day,” she said to Roarke. “I hope your next visit is less…complicated,” she added.
“It was an experience watching you in action, Chief Angelo. I’m confident Olympus is in good hands.”
“Count on it. You know, Dallas, you look like you could use a nice resort vacation.” She shot out that brilliant smile. “See you around.”
“She’s got a smart mouth. I’ve got to admire that. I’m going to check on Peabody,” she began, then stopped when she saw Mira coming toward her.
“He’s gone,” Mira said simply. “He had time to say goodbye to his wife, and to ask me to tell you that he was wrong. Blood doesn’t always tell. I witnessed the termination. He left life with courage and dignity. He asked me if you would stand in the way of his departmental service and burial.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him that blood doesn’t always tell. Character does. I’m going back to his wife now.”
“Tell her I’m sorry for her loss, and that law enforcement has lost one of its great heroes today.”
Mira leaned over to kiss Eve’s cheek, smiling when Eve squirmed. “You have a good heart.”
“And clear vision,” Roarke added when Mira walked away.
“Clear vision?”
“To see through the dreck and the shadows to the core of the man.”
“Nobody gets through life without fucking up. He gave fifty years to the badge. It wasn’t all what it should’ve been, but it was fifty years. Anyway.” She shook off sentiment. “I’ve got to check on Peabody.”
Roarke took her hand, kissed it. “We’ll go check on Peabody. Then we’ll talk about that nice resort vacation.”
In a pig’s eye, she thought. She was going home as soon as humanly possible. The streets of New York were resort enough for her.
