“I’ve got to contact Whitney.”
“Better you than me.”
“While I do, you tag Celina. Inform her we’re sending a couple of plainclothes to bring her in for a statement. I want her here at eight hundred hours. Then find me two cops to take the detail. When you get that set, you should catch a couple hours in the crib.”
“Don’t have to tell me that twice. Gonna join me?”
“No, I’ll stretch out in my office.”
“Where?”
“Just get this set up and close the door behind you.”
Alone, Eve stared at the ’link, and recited a little mantra in her head.
Let the commander answer and not his wife, let the commander answer and not his wife. In the name of all that’s holy, let the commander answer and not his wife.
Then, sucking it up, she sat down and made the call.
She nearly let out a cheer when Whitney’s tired face popped on screen.
“I’m sorry to wake you, sir. There’s been a homicide in Memorial Park. Single victim, Caucasian female, age twenty-eight. Sexual homicide with mutilation. The same MO as Maplewood.”
“Scene secure?”
“It is, sir. I’ve closed the park and have men at every entrance.”
“Closed it?”
“Yes, sir. It’s necessary, for the next ten to twenty-four hours.”
He let out a long, long sigh. “Which means it’s necessary for me to wake up the mayor. I want a full report on my desk by eight hundred hours. I’ll see you in my office at nine hundred.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eve looked at the blank screen. No, she didn’t see how she was going to manage sleep.
She input her notes and the record from on scene. Preparing for the long day ahead, she programmed a full pot of coffee, then sat to refine her report.
She read it over, searching for any missed details. Finding none, she ran standard probabilities, included the results. Then she saved it, filed it, and copied her commander, her partner, and Mira.
Rising, she pinned Lily Napier’s photos, alive and dead, to her board.
At seven-fifteen, she set her wrist unit, stretched out on the floor and slept, restlessly, for twenty minutes. Primed with another cup of coffee, she took a shower in the facilities off the locker room. Briefly, she considered popping some Stay-Up, but it always made her feel jittery and strange.
If she was going to be heavily caffeinated, she preferred doing it with coffee.
She opted to use a conference room rather than her office for her session with Celina, and since Peabody didn’t appear to be up from her nap, scheduled it herself.
Then she called down to the desk sergeant on duty and requested to be informed when Celina Sanchez checked in.
Rather than tolerate the swill the department offered, she culled another pot of coffee from her office and carried it to the conference room.
The desk sergeant beeped her just as Peabody came in. She sniffed the air. “God. Just pour it in a saucer and I’ll lap it up.”
“Get us some bagels or something from vending first,” Eve told her. “Charge them to the squad budget.”
“You’re actually thinking about food. I must be dreaming.”