Before he could reach for his ’link, Eve snatched Peabody’s bag, and pulled out the still of Ava at the crime scene.
“Take a look, take a good one.” Eve slapped the photo on his desk. “Then curl your lip at my implications and call your damn lawyer.”
He didn’t pale; he didn’t tremble. But he looked for a very long time. And when he raised his head his eyes were hard, and they were cold. “She was hardly more than a child. Use the office. I’ll notify the others. They’ll have to speak with you between patients.”
He strode out, shut the door behind him.
“He’s got a mean bedside manner,” Eve commented.
“So do you, sir.”
With a shrug, Eve dipped her hands into her pockets. “Run him. Run them all.”
Seven
While Isis gathered what she needed, Roarke took out his ’link to contact Eve. He struggled against the resentment that burned through him at the idea he felt obligated to get clearance from his wife to enter his own property. And, he realized, resented the struggle against the resentment.
Bloody cops, he thought, and their bloody procedure. And then, bloody hell when he was dumped straight to her voice mail.
“Well then, if you can’t be bothered to answer your ’link, I’ll tell you that I’ve my own expert. I want her to have a pass at the crime scene, so I’ll be taking her there shortly. Any problem with that, well, you’ll have to get back to me, won’t you? And we’ll see if I can be bothered answering my ’link.”
When he clicked off he saw Isis watching him with amusement dancing in her eyes. “Two strong-headed, strong-willed people, both not only used to giving orders but to having them obeyed. It must be an interesting and stimulating life you have together.”
“There are times I wonder how we ever managed to get through two hours together much less two years. And other times I wonder how either of us survived before we found each other.”
“She’ll be angry with you for taking me to this place.”
“No, what she’ll be is right pissed. But they used my place, you see, and at least one of my people. So pissed she’ll have to be. I’m grateful to you for doing this.”
“Gifts aren’t free. What I have, what I am makes its own demands. Will you take this?” She held out a small white silk bag tied with a silver cord.
“What is it?”
“A protection charm. I’d like you to carry it when we go in that room together.”
“All right.” He slipped it in his pocket, felt it bump lightly against the gray button he habitually carried there. Eve’s button, he mused, and wasn’t that a kind of charm? “I’ve been in before.”
“Yes. And what did you feel?”
“Beyond the anger, the pity? I suppose if I were a fanciful man I’d say I caught the scent of hell. It’s not sulphur and brimstone. It’s the stench of cruelty.”
Isis took a long breath. “Then we’ll go. And we’ll look.”
In Slone’s office, Eve glanced at the readout on her ’link, and let the transmission go to voice mail. Roarke would have to wait, she decided, and turned back to Sarah Meeks. The receptionist had a soother in her now, but tears still trembled.
“Where were Ava and Jack going?”
“They weren’t sure. They both wanted to keep it light, you know? First date, and you work in the same place, so if it doesn’t work out . . .”
“Did they leave together, from here?”
“No—I mean, I don’t think so. She was—they were—still here when I left. But I know she planned to go home first. Even though it was casual, Ava wanted to fuss a little, so she was going home to change.”
“What time did you leave?”
“About three. I came on at seven yesterday, and left around three.”
“Who else was here when you left?”