“I’m sorry to interrupt you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Teeth set in frustration, Eve sat back, lifted her hands. “What?”
“I need to speak with you regarding Nixie.”
“Look, you’re in charge of her counseling. You want to do a session, pick your spot. As long as it’s not in here.”
“We’ve had a session. She’s h
aving a difficult day.”
“She should get in line.”
“Eve.”
“I’m doing what I need to do.” Her earlier rage began to bubble back. “And I can’t do it if somebody’s forever in my face telling me I’ve got to go pat the kid on the head and give her a there, there. I can’t—”
“Lieutenant.”
Safely across the room, Peabody hunched her shoulders. It was the same tone her own mother used to stop any one of her children in their tracks.
“Fine. What? I’m listening. I’m all fricking ears.”
And that, Peabody thought as she slid down another inch in her chair, was the tone that would have resulted in immediate annihilation should she, or a sibling, have dared to use it.
“I hope you find it cathartic to take your frustration out on me.”
If she’d been sure no one would notice, Peabody would have chosen that point to slink out of the room.
“However,” Mira continued in a voice cool enough to scatter frost on the windows, “we’re discussing a child in our charge, not your poor manners.”
“Well, Jesus, I’m just—”
“Regarding that child,” Mira interrupted. “She needs to see her family.”
“Her family’s in the damn morgue.”
“I’m aware of that, and so is she. She needs to see them, to begin to say good-bye. You and I are both aware of the importance of this step with survivors. The stages of her grief require this.”
“I told her I’d fix it so she’d see them. But for Christ’s sake, not like this. You want to take a kid to the morgue so that she can see her family pulled out of containment drawers?”
“Yes.”
“With their throats cut.”
Impatience rippled over Mira’s face. “I’ve spoken with ME Morris. There are ways, which you very well know, to treat wounds and injuries on the dead, to spare their loved ones. He’s agreed to do so. It’s not possible for her to attend any sort of service or memorial for her family until this case is closed and her safety is insured. She needs to see them.”
“I’ve got her here in lockdown for a reason.” Eve dragged her hands through her hair when Mira only stood, gaze cool and level. “Okay, fine. I can get you secure transpo there and back. I’ll need to coordinate it with Morris. We get her in the delivery door—no record, no ID scans. He clears the area so you can take her straight into a view room. Out the same way. It’ll have to be quick. Ten minutes.”
“That’s acceptable. She’ll need you there.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute.”
“Like it or not, you’re her touchstone. You were there when she last saw them. You’re the one she believes will find the people responsible. She needs you to be there in order to feel safe. We’ll be ready to leave as soon as you arrange secure transportation.”
Eve sat, too stunned to work up a glare as Mira walked out.
She decided on Roarke’s jet-copter. It would be fast, and it wasn’t unusual for him to buzz off in it to a meeting. It meant she had to pull him away from the trace as she didn’t trust anyone else to get them there and back without incident. Not only the crashing sort of incidents she tried not to obsess over when zipping along a couple hundred feet above street level, but the assault incident she was risking by following Mira’s edict.