“Can do.” Peabody pulled out her ’link as Eve drove to the hospital.
Two cups of coffee helped, but Eve wondered if she could just get a shot of straight caffeine. It was a hospital, after all. She hated shots, but she’d suffer through it for a good, strong jolt.
She badged her way to the ER desk, and after some dithering got the section and floor where Daphne Strazza had been relocated. Worked her way there, to that desk, badged again.
Yeah, she’d take the shot.
“I have to contact Dr. Nobel,” the nurse told her.
“Fine by me, but we’re going to her room now. Which way, or I’ll just swagger around with my badge and weapon until I find the uniform on her door.”
“Down this corridor and to the right. She’s in 523.”
“Got it.”
“I’m not sure I can pull off a swagger,” Peabody commented as they started down.
“Not in those sissy boots.”
“They’re not sissy boots.”
“They’re pink and have fluff. That’s the definition of sissy.”
She spotted the uniform in a chair outside 523, playing on his PPC. He heard her non-sissy boots on the tile and rose, sliding the PPC into his pocket as he came to attention.
“Lieutenant. No one but medical staff in or out. The nurse checked her about ten minutes ago. She’s awake.”
“Good. Stand by, Officer. We’ll order in your relief.”
Eve and Peabody walked in.
Daphne lay in the bed, her upper body slightly elevated. Her color looked nearly normal, and medical treatment had eased a lot of the bruising and swelling on her face. She stared blankly out the window until Eve moved into her field of vision.
Daphne blinked. “I … know you.”
“I’m Lieutenant Dallas. I brought you in.”
“Yes. With the man. He has blue eyes. I remember his blue eyes.”
“Hard to forget. This is my partner, Detective Peabody.”
“Oh.” Daphne shifted her gaze. “Hello.”
“Mrs. Strazza.” Eve pulled her attention back. “I regret to inform you, your husband was killed early this morning.”
Daphne continued to stare. “Killed? But he’s very important.”
“His body was found in the bedroom where you were attacked.”
Daphne lay still, but her breathing quickened. The monitor beeped faster. “But…” She turned her head, eyes still wide but dry, staring toward the window. “I wasn’t dead. I thought … My husband is dead.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Strazza,” Peabody said.
“My husband’s dead. Something terrible happened. Do you know what happened?”
“Do you?”
Daphne closed her eyes. Her hands lay still on the white sheets, as if she were asleep. “It’s like looking through a curtain. In some places it’s thin, and I can see. In others it’s thick, and I can’t. I feel as if I could float away, just float away.” She opened her eyes again. “Am I floating?”