Memory in Death (In Death 22)

“Yes, sir.”

Eve knocked, waited. Zana opened the door with a quick, tremulous smile. “I’m so glad you’re here. I just talked with Bobby’s nurse, and she said he’s awake, so… Oh.” She stopped when she spotted Mira. “I’m sorry. Hello.”

“Zana, this is Dr. Mira. She’s a friend of mine.”

“Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you. Please come in. I can, uh, get some coffee?”

“That’s all right, I’ll take care of that in a minute. Dr. Mira’s a counselor. I thought, under the circumstances, you might want to talk to someone. Maybe Bobby, too. Mira’s the best,” Eve added with a smile, laying a hand on Mira’s shoulder to make it seem more friendly than official. “She’s helped me a lot with… issues.”

“I don’t know what to say. Thanks so much for thinking of me, of us.”

“You’ve been through some hard knocks. Survivors of violence don’t always understand the full extent of the stress they’re under. Talking to me, well, even though Bobby and I go back, you’re still talking to a cop. But if you think it’s out of line, then—”

“No, God. It’s so thoughtful of you. I’ve just been wandering around here, most of the night. No one to talk to. I’ve never talked to a counselor before. I don’t know where to start.”

“Why don’t we sit down?” Mira suggested. “Your husband’s condition has improved?”

“Yes. They said he’ll need to stay in the hospital another day, maybe two, then we can go to out-patient status. I don’t really understand all the medical terms.”

“I can help you with that, too.”

“Look, I’ll be in the kitchen. I’ll get the coffee, get out of the way.”

“I don’t mind if you stay,” Zana told Eve. “You know everything.”

“I’ll get the coffee anyway, give you a minute.”

Eve moved across the room, into the narrow alcove. And gee, she thought, if she pushed the wrong buttons on an unfamiliar AC unit, who could argue?

She could hear Zana’s voice, the thickness in it of suppressed tears. Oh, you’re good, she decided. But I’m better.

She ran a quick scan, replaying orders over the last twenty-four hours.

Cheese, raspberries, popcorn—extra butter. Bet somebody watched vids last night, Eve thought. And a hearty breakfast this morning: Ham omelette, toast, coffee, and orange juice.

She programmed for coffee, then eased open the minifriggie. Bottle of red wine, she noted. Maybe two glasses left in it. Soft drinks. Frozen nondairy dessert, double chocolate—half gone.

Trauma and tragedy didn’t seem to be affecting Zana’s appetite.

When she came back with the coffee, Zana was mopping at her face with a tissue. “It’s just one thing after the next,” she told Mira. “I can’t find my balance, I guess. We were coming here to have fun. Bobby wanted to treat me to a trip, to somewhere exciting I’d never been. Part of my Christmas present since his mama was so hot to come, you know. To talk to Eve, after all the years. And then, everything’s been so awful.”

She began to shred the tissue so pieces of it fell like snow into her lap. “Poor Bobby, he’s been trying to be so strong, and now he’s hurt. I just want to make it easier on him. Somehow.”

“I’m sure you are, just by being there for him. Still, it’s important that you look after yourself as well, and let yourself grieve for a woman you were close to. To go through that process, Zana. And to get rest, keep your health.”

“I can’t even think of myself right now. How can I?”

“I understand. It’s human to put ourselves to one side at times of crisis. Especially for women to do so,” Mira added and gave Zana’s hand a pat. “Bobby will need you, emotionally and physically in the days and weeks to come. It’s difficult—thank you, Eve—it’s difficult to lose a parent, any family member. But to lose one through violent means adds another layer, even more stress and grief. You’ve both had a shock, several in fact. I hope when you’re able to go back to Texas, you’ll find someone there to talk to. I can certainly give you a list of recommendations for counselors in your area.”

“I’d so appreciate that. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I’ve never talked to a counselor before.”

“You didn’t go to grief counseling when your mother died?” Eve asked.

“Oh, no. I didn’t even think about it. It’s just not the kind of thing I was raised to think about, I guess. I just… I don’t know, went on, I guess. But this is different, I can see that. And I want to do what’s best for Bobby.”

“Then you will.”

“If I could have a minute, Zana. We’re having trouble with the numbers you gave us. The ones your abductor made you memorize.”