“We’re investigating, Mr. Lester.”
“My crew. I got all the names right there. D. B. Graham, on the stick; Evie Hydelburg, that’s our cook; Marylee Birkston, head waitress—”
“I have the names. Ms. Birkston was in surgery the last I checked. Andrew Johnson—”
“Drew. He goes by Drew. He’s a busboy.”
“He’s in a coma. They’re both at Tribeca Health Center.”
Lester waited a beat, then two. “The others? What about the rest? I had nine people on that shift.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Lester, those are the only members of your crew who survived.”
“Okay, that’s a mistake.” He lifted his fingers, heels of his hands firmly planted on the table as if he needed the anchor. And his voice was all reason. “That’s a mistake. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Ms. Roarke, but—”
“Lieutenant Dallas.”
“Whatever.” Suddenly, like a lightning bolt, temper fired his eyes, and behind it crawled fear. “Seven of my people didn’t die. That doesn’t happen.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Lester, and I understand this is hard to accept.”
“Well, I don’t accept it.” He surged to his feet. “Get that? It’s not acceptable. I want to speak to your superior.”
Eve rose as well. “I’ve just completed a briefing with my commander, and the task force assigned to this investigation. Which I’m heading. I’m telling you seven of your people are dead. Two are in the hospital, and you don’t hope any harder than I do that they survive.”
“This is bullshit.”
At the knock on the door, she pulled it open a bare inch. It didn’t surprise her to see Roarke.
r /> “I can help here,” he said before she could speak.
She kept her mouth shut, though it took considerable effort, and stepped back. The instant Roarke entered the room, she saw he’d been right.
The heat in Lester’s eyes died instantly, and the fear rolled away into grief. “No. No.”
“Sit down, Devon. Sit down now.”
He obeyed, Eve decided, more because his legs just gave way.
“Just Marylee and Drew? All the others, all? They’re gone?”
“Yes. I need you to help the lieutenant, Devon. She’s going to do her best by them, by all of them. You can help her.”
“D.B. was getting married. He and his woman, they’ve been together three years, and they’re getting married in May. Evie, she just had her first grandkid. Katrina got a callback on an audition. I changed her shift so she’d get off at eight tonight so she could prep for it. She was supposed to go home early tonight.”
Roarke said nothing, just let him talk of each one of the dead, people he couldn’t claim to know, but were his as well. His eyes flicked up to Eve’s, held a moment—full of sorrow—when she set water in front of Lester.
“What happened to them? Please. God, please. You have to tell me what happened.”
“I’m not able to do that yet.” Eve sat again. “I need to ask you some questions.”
“All right. All right.”
“You said you had a good crew, but even so, sometimes there’s friction or upset. Have you had to discipline anyone? Break up any arguments?”
“Look.” He swiped at his eyes with his forearm, struggled out a couple of steadying breaths. “Okay, look, there’s always drama. Somebody has a fight with the wife, the boyfriend, whatever the hell. Or a customer gets bitchy, right? It’s just the way of the business. But my people got along. It’s a good place—good pay, good tips. Somebody needs to switch shifts, we switch. Somebody needs a shift covered, somebody covers.”
“You didn’t go in at all today?”