New York to Dallas (In Death 33)

“He’s dead! He can’t do anything because he’s dead.”

“Stupid little cunt. Then how did you get here?”

“Boy, nobody lays the guilt on like a mom.”

With a sympathetic smile, Peabody crouched in front of Eve. “How’re you doing?”

“How the hell does it look like I’m doing? Get these kids to safety. Call for backup. Get me a weapon. I need a weapon.”

“Jeez, Dallas, take it easy.”

Incensed, Eve yanked at the shackles. “Take it easy? What the fuck’s wrong with you? Get off your ass and do your job.”

“I am doing my job. We’re all doing the job. See?”

She could, like a dream over a dream, see her bullpen, cops at desks, in cubes. And Feeney in his rumpled suit in the middle of the clashing colors and constant movement of EDD. Above them Whitney stood, his hands clasped behind his back. Watchful.

“Officer needs assistance,” Eve murmured, dizzy.

“You’re getting it, Dallas. Best we got, just like you taught me. Look at my guy.” She grinned and pointed to McNab, who pranced around on wildly striped ankle skids, talking incessantly in e-geek. “That’s how he works. Doesn’t he have the cutest skinny butt? Now your guy, he’s got it rough right now.”

Eve saw Roarke behind a wall of glass. At his desk he worked a comp, two smart screens, a headset. His ’link signaled, and codes and figures whizzed by on the wall screens.

He had his hair tied back. His eyes were fierce and intense, and even from a distance she could see they were filled with fatigue and worry.

“Roarke.” Everything in her spilled out in the single word, the love, the fear, the anguish.

“It’s hard to think really clear, catch the little details when you’re that worried. He loves you. You hurt, he hurts.”

“I know. Roarke.”

“Gotta break the glass, I guess.” Peabody smiled. “You’re my hero.”

“I’m nobody’s hero.”

Peabody gave the wrist cuffs a tap. “Not like this, you aren’t.”

“Get me out of these!”

“How?”

“Find the key. Find the goddamn key and get me out.”

“Wish I could, Dallas, but that’s the whole thing. You’ve got to find it. Better find the key before he gets another one. Before he gets you. You’ve never been stupid. Don’t let her make you stupid.”

“How am I supposed to find anything when I’m locked in? How—” She broke off, cringing back when she heard the footsteps. “He’s coming.”

“He never left.” The mother walked to the door.

“Don’t open it. Please!”

“Whine, whine, whine.” She opened the door.

McQueen walked in, flashed a charming smile. “Hello, little girl,” he said in her father’s voice.

And bleeding from a dozen wounds, he came for her.

She bolted up in bed, clutching at her throat. The breath wouldn’t come, no matter how wildly her heart hammered, the breath wouldn’t come.