Eve looked at Ricchio, understood his guts would be in knots. “Prior to New York, he was still evolving, finding his pattern, his rhythm. Added to it. He hasn’t finished with me, so he hasn’t finished with Melinda. Who do you want me to work with, Lieutenant? And do you have somewhere I can set up?”
“I’ve got a temporary office for you. It’s not much. I’d like you to use Bree and Annalyn. Bree needs to keep her mind engaged, and she trusts you.”
Eve started to point out that Bree Jones didn’t know her, but let it go. “I’m good with that. Saves having to update them on what we got from the bar.”
“If you don’t need Roarke at the moment, I’d like to have him acquaint himself with our EDD.”
“Best use,” she said to Roarke.
“Then I’ll get back to you later.”
They went their separate ways.
“Not much” turned out to be twice the size of her office at Central with a shiny desk outfitted with a data and communication center, a multiposition gel-chair, an AutoChef, a personal friggie, an auxiliary station, two cozy visitor’s chairs—and a large window she immediately shielded.
Too much space, she thought, too much comfort. Adjust, she reminded herself. Make it work.
She programmed what passed for coffee, made do with that while she began to set up a case board. She barely glanced over when Bree and Annalyn came in.
“I’m still setting up. I’ll need you to share the auxiliary. Run an anal on all the data we have, specifically on the female UNSUB. And I want a time line up here on the board, starting with first known contact with McQueen right up to his last communication with me.”
“I’ll start on the data,” Annalyn said. “Bree, while the lieutenant’s setting up, why don’t you get us some eats? Use my code. My treat.”
“Sure. What would you like, Lieutenant?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“You a veggie?” Annalyn asked her.
“Not unless I can’t identify the meat.”
“Texas beef, one of the perks. Hardly any filling. I’ll spring for burgers, Bree.”
“Could use a Pepsi,” Eve added. “Coffee’s absolute shit.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
When Bree left, Eve glanced at Annalyn again. “Something on your mind, Detective?”
“She’s a good cop, doesn’t miss much. A little more seasoning, she won’t miss anything. On a personal level, she can be a little intense, but she’s not an asshole. Right now she’s holding on by her fingernails. She’ll keep holding on as long as she believes we’ll find Melinda. She stops believing that, she’s done. Not just for now. Just done.”
“Then we won’t give her any reason not to believe it.”
“She needs to be part of bringing McQueen down.”
“I’ve got that, but that’s your lieutenant’s call, not mine.”
“You don’t get you’re her hero. Whether you want to be or not,” she continued, correctly reading Eve’s face. “You saved her life, and more important to her, you saved Melly. You know what he did to them, to all those kids, and you stopped him, you got them out.”
“I got lucky. If you read the files, you know I was lucky I didn’t get us all killed.”
Annalyn propped her ankle on her knee. “Not the way I read it—and besides, if it wasn’t for lucky, half the cases we close would still be open. It doesn’t matter how you did it, you did it. And you’re a big part of why she can believe we’ll do it again. Stop him, and get Melly out. If you’ve got doubts—and Christ knows I do—and you want Bree to keep hanging on, to be a useful part of the investigation, don’t let her see them.”
Eve didn’t hesitate, didn’t need to. “Let me make this clear. At this point in time, I don’t have any doubts. What I have is data, facts, pattern, theory, and instinct. I don’t believe we’re going to get Melinda Jones home, and put McQueen and his partner in prison. I know it.”
Annalyn glanced toward the door. “How do you know it? No, wait. If you mean that, tell us both when Bree gets back.”
“I’ll do that. Get started on the anal.”