Survivor in Death (In Death 20)

“Yeah, so?”

“Are you going away to work?”

“No, I’m going to work here for a while.”

“Okay.” She walked back to Mira. “I’ll show you how to play now.”

Awhile” was hours. McNab might’ve exaggerated about their ears bleeding, but Eve thought her eyes might. She ran search after search, waiting for names to cross. When the sun went down and the light in her office dimmed, she programmed more coffee, and kept going.

“Food.” Roarke walked in. “You’ve sent your team home for food, to recharge, to rest. Do the same for yourself.”

“There’s going to be a match. Has to be.”

“And the computer can continue the runs while you eat. We’re going downstairs.”

“Why down—oh.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “Right. What are we supposed to talk to her about now?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

“You know what? She’s a little scary. I think all of that breed is. Kids I mean. It’s like they know stuff you’ve forgotten, but they still hammer you with questions. She rocked up, though, when Mira told her I was friends with Mavis.”

“Ah.” He sat on the corner of the desk. “A Mavis fan. Considerable conversation to be mined there.”

“And she wants you to play pinball with her. She’s got a competitive streak, seems like. She’s a little bent she can’t meet your scores.”

“Really?” His smile bloomed. “I’d enjoy that. I’ll take her down for a bit after dinner. Good practice for when we have a brood of our own.”

She didn’t pale, but her eyes did go glassy. “Are you trying to wig me?”

“It’s fairly irresistible. Come on.” He held out a hand. “Be a good girl and come to dinner.”

Before she could rise, her ’link beeped. “Minute,” she said, and noted the commander’s home data on the ID. “It’s Whitney.” Without thinking about it she straightened up in the chair, squared her shoulders. “Dallas.”

“Lieutenant. The safe house on Ninety-second has been hit.”

“Ninety-second.” Not trusting her mental file, she flipped her fingers over the keyboard to bring up the data. “Preston and Knight.”

“They’re both down.”

Now she did pale. “Down, sir?”

“DOS.” His face was grim, his voice was flat. “Security was compromised. Both officers were terminated. Report to the scene immediately.”

“Yes, sir. Commander, the other locations—”

“Additional units have been dispatched. Reports are coming in. I’ll meet you on-scene.”

When the screen went blank, she sat just as she was. Sat just as she was when Roarke came around the desk to lay his hand on her shoulder.

“I hand-picked them. Preston and Knight. Because they were good, solid cops. Good instincts. If there was going to be a hit on one of the locations, I wanted solid cops with good instincts covering them.”

“I’m sorry, Eve.”

“Didn’t have to move a wit from that location. Didn’t have anybody there, but it was one of the addresses Newman should have known, so it had to be covered. She’s dead, too, by now. Stone dead. Tally’s up to eight.”

She rose then, checked her weapon harness. “Two good cops. I’m going to hunt them down like dogs.”

She didn’t argue when he said he was going with her. She wanted him behind the wheel until she was more sure of her control.