Delusion in Death (In Death 35)

“Let’s start with a trade,” Eve suggested. She laid her weapon on the table. “Mine for yours. Take mine, it’s less lethal, but it’ll get the job done. Give me the knife.”

“What the hell, Dallas,” Lowenbaum demanded.

“A show of cooperation and trust,” Eve said, eyes on Gina. “I’d rather you didn’t spill Nancy’s blood all over the floor.”

When Gina reached for the weapon, Eve slapped her hand down on it. “Let me see the knife.”

Eyes flat, but with a smirk playing around the corners of her mouth, Gina pulled the knife out from under the table. “I’ve got the vials in my other hand,” she warned. “Try anything, I toss them down, break them. That’s no slow infection, and triple the usual dose. The children in here? They won’t just kill, they’ll die. The infection will kill them, or at the least cause brain damage.”

“How do I know you’ve got anything but bullshit in your other hand?”

Gina lifted it, twisted her wrist to show the three vials. “If I drop them, you’ve got a bigger mess than this bitch’s blood on your hands.”

“Okay.” To show cooperation, Eve raised both her hands—and gave Gina the opportunity to grab the weapon.

Gina rammed it against Weaver’s throat. “You know what this will do, on full, if I fire. She’s dead.”

“You don’t want to do that, Gina.” Eve let her voice waver a bit, stalling, stalling. “That’s no way to get Lew out.”

“Bring him here! And you.” She jutted her chin at Roarke. “Stand up, move here, right here.”

“Do as she says,” Eve said quietly. “She’s got the advantage.”

>

“That’s right.”

“He’s blocking my shot,” Lowenbaum said when Roarke stood.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll keep this under control. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Gina laughed. “Fuck you. Tell them to bring Lew. I want them to back off—all the fucking cops. I’m walking out of here with my grandson, this bitch, and your man.”

“Roarke.”

“It’s all right.” He met Eve’s eyes. “I understand.”

“You understand nothing,” Gina hurled back, “but you will.”

“Take me.” With a plea in his voice, Marty leaned forward. “Let Nancy go, and take me. I’m in charge. She takes orders from me. I’m the one you want.”

“You want me to take you? You want to be the hero? Get out of the booth. You, cop, out and on your knees, hands behind your head. Move your ass,” she ordered Weaver, sliding out to stand, shielded from the narrow glass door by Roarke.

“What are you doing, Eve?” Mira demanded. “Tell her you’ll start arrangements for the grandson.”

“I don’t want anybody hurt. That’s priority.” Slowly Eve eased out of the booth. “That’s why I had nearly everyone taken out of the restaurant. Look around, Gina. We’ve only got about twenty people left in here, and oops, they’re heading out the front.”

“Then this is on you.” She pulled the trigger. Nancy let out a scream, then stared, open-mouthed.

“I guess I forgot to mention I disengaged that one.” Eve reached for the weapon in her pocket. “But not this one.”

“Stun me!” Gina shrieked it. “Go ahead, and these vials hit the floor. You’ll turn that weapon against your own man.”

“It’s done, Gina. Drop them and my buddies outside will see to it we all take an enforced nap. Not pleasant, but I can live with it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Roarke commented.

“Try it. See if it’s fast enough. Try it! Stun me and find out who lives with it.”