“How are you going to handle her?”
“I’m going to let her think she’s sliding through it. Let her relax, and make sure she believes she’s snowed me. Poor kid, her mother kills a couple of people, then tries to do herself. I need to lay it out for Straffo, and that’s not going to be easy.”
“He won’t believe you.”
“I don’t know, maybe not. I’m working on that part.”
Daddy was furious. Rayleen couldn’t hear everything he said, or that Lieutenant Dallas said to him, but she could tell it made Daddy mad. Still, the snippets she caught when her father’s voice rose were enough to please her.
Stupid police, she thought as she lay curled up on the sofa of the waiting area, pretending to sleep. They thought they were so smart, but she was so much smarter.
If nosy-posy Cora hadn’t interfered, her mother would already be dead. But Rayleen wasn’t sure that would be better. She could tell by the tight faces around her that everybody knew her mother was going to die anyway. This was so much more interesting.
It was like Ms. Hallywell said about being on stage. If someone forgets a line or says the wrong one, you have to be able to think, in character, and keep going.
She kept her eyes closed and smiled inside when she heard her father.
“My wife is fighting for her life.”
“Your wife tried to take her life. I’m sorry.” The lieutenant’s voice was calm. “I hope she makes it. Sincerely.”
“So you can charge her with two murders? Allika could never hurt anyone.”
“But herself? Look, again, I’m sorry. I’m not saying we’re going to charge her. I’m telling you now, as a favor, that we have to weigh this act in. If and when she’s able to talk, I’m going to have to question her. It’s hard on you, and God knows it’s hard on your kid. I’m trying to give you some time to prepare.”
“Just go. Just go and leave me alone with my family.”
“I’m leaving. I’ll be back if she comes out of it. Oliver…take care of yourself and your daughter. The kid’s been through more than any kid should have to handle.”
Rayleen kept her eyes closed as she felt her father sit down beside her. As he gently, gently stroked her hair. And she kept them closed when she heard him begin to quietly weep.
She wondered how long she’d have to wait to get pizza and a fizzy.
Eve pulled her communicator out as she headed down. It signaled in her hand before she could use it to tag Peabody.
“Dallas.”
“You clear?” Peabody asked.
“Yeah, heading out. Allika’s critical, on life support. Chances slim. I got a guard on her door and another with med training inside her room. Louise was on.”
“Handy.”
“Yeah. I heard her tell Straffo he should spend as much time as possible in her room with her, talking to her, telling her to fight. Might help. Who the hell knows? The kid’s playing it out perfectly, but she didn’t stump Mira, not this time. So we’re getting some weight.”
“We’ve got more. I found the diary.”
Eve had to stop herself from doing a victory dance as she pushed out the hospital doors. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”
“You’re damn straight. Took freaking hours.”
“Where?”
“In the kitchen recycler. I went over every damn inch of this place, kept the uniforms on to help. Why the hell didn’t I think of the recycler first?”
“How much is left?”
“All, I’d say, as it’s inside a fancy metal box embossed with her name. I can tell there’s a book inside it—the weight, and it thumps around when I shake it. Only went through one cycle, I think. Banged up. Locked tight, too. Lock’s too small for a master, and it’s caved in. Probably have to cut through it.”