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“No, don?

?t tell me.” Nadine sat back, held up both hands. “Because it’ll kill me to turn it down.”

“Look, Nadine, it’s not that big a spin.”

“Obviously you didn’t catch my pithy and insightful morning report. Spin’s already spun. The cool-headed, nerveless Lieutenant Dallas and the young, dedicated Officer Trueheart, risking their lives in pursuit of the vicious killers of children and their fellow officers. Killers who discharge weapons with no thought to the welfare of innocent strangers—men, women, and children who live in or visit our great city. And so on.”

“Okay. You’ve got another IOU.”

“Slate’s clear. This played better—and the vid showed the blasts coming out of that van. Most of the competition worked the same angle, but there’s still some heat, some stirring of the urban terrorism pot and why aren’t we safe walking the streets, in our own homes.”

“It’s a good question. Could it be because a portion of society sucks?”

“Can I quote you? Better, how about a quick talking head while you repeat that?”

Eve considered. “How about you say, ‘When contacted, Lieutenant Dallas stated that every member of the NYPSD will work diligently to identify and apprehend those responsible for the deaths of their fellow officers, for Grant, Keelie, and Coyle Swisher, for Inga Snood, for Linnie Dyson. We serve them, we serve New York. We serve Nixie Swisher because surviving the brutality that was brought into her home isn’t enough. She deserves justice, and we’ll get it for her.’ ”

“Good. Got it. As for the other IOU, toasting these bastards from my media vantage point? I’d be doing it now anyway. I’d be doing it for Knight and Preston. Both of their memorials are tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you there.” Eve hesitated. “An unnamed source at Cop Central has confirmed that the abduction and murder of Meredith Newman has been connected to the recent home invasion and murder of five people, including two children, on the Upper West Side. Meredith Newman, a Child Protection Services caseworker, was abducted—fill in the rest.”

“Can I say Newman was assigned to the invasion survivor, nine-year-old Nixie Swisher?”

“Yes, get it out there. And that multiple premortem burns on Newman’s body indicate she was tortured before her throat was cut in the same manner as the members of the Swisher household. Ms. Newman’s body was discovered in an alley—”

“We’ve got all that.”

“Say it again. Say it again—her naked body, covered with electrical burns, with its throat slit, was discovered after being dumped in an alley. Witnesses saw a black FourStar van, forged New York license AAD-4613, exiting the alley moments before the body was discovered. Lieutenant Eve Dallas, primary, and Officer Troy Trueheart, acting as aide, encountered a van of this description when leaving the scene.”

“And pursued,” Nadine finished. “Which leads right back to the flight show. Good. Solid. Thanks. How many witnesses?”

One, Eve thought, and only on the taillights. But why quibble. “When contacted, Lieutenant Dallas would neither confirm nor deny the report.”

“A formal one-on-one would round this off sweet.”

“I’m cutting back on sweets. Later.”

Juggling plans in her head, Eve headed to her office, then swung toward Roarke’s. She gave a quick knock, opened the door. And winced.

It was full of people. Or more accurately, it was full of Roarke and holos. His admin, Caro, sat in her tidy way, her hands folded in her lap. Two men in square, collarless suit jackets, and three women in similar conservative corporate gear studied yet another holo of some sort of elaborate development, complete with winding river and a sheer tower ringed with people glides.

“Sorry.” She started to back out, but Roarke lifted a hand.

“Ladies, gentlemen, my wife.”

They all looked over at her. She saw, clearly enough, the measuring of the females—and the reactions of puzzlement, even amusement. And she could understand it. There was Roarke, rangy and stunning in his dark suit, power like an aura around him.

And here she was, banged-up boots, hair she couldn’t quite remember if she’d even finger-combed that morning, and a weapon harness over her shirt.

“We’re just wrapping up,” he told Eve, then turned back to the group. “If you have any further questions, relay them through Caro. I want the changes discussed and implemented by this time tomorrow. Thank you. Caro, stay a moment.”

The holos, save Caro’s, winked off. Caro rose. “Lieutenant Dallas. It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too.” Now, Eve thought, she’d have to make chatty talk. “Ah, how’s Reva?”

“She’s very well. She’s moved back to the city.”

“Well, good. Tell her hi.”


Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery