Echoes in Death (In Death 44)

Tish DeSilva didn’t so much as blink at the death notification. “He’s dead? You’re sure he’s dead?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Tish nodded, slowly, then let out a long breath. “But Daphne’s okay? She’s all right?”

“Yes.”

“Where is she, please? What hospital?”

“She’s currently in St. Andrew’s.”

“You said they were both attacked. Who did it? Why?”

“That investigation is ongoing.”

“You don’t know yet? But didn’t Daphne tell you? You said she was okay, so why hasn’t she told you? Look, you can be straight with me. I’m not the hysterical type—this just—it’s upsetting and it’s terrible to know she’s hurt and we’re not there. I’m going to contact our parents as soon as I get off with you. I want to be able to give them the truth, the facts.”

Eve considered. “You say ‘our’ parents.”

“Daphne’s mom and dad died when she was only nine, and she came to us. That’s what her mom and dad wanted. It’s not just blood that makes family. We’re her family. She’s my sister. Do you have a sister?”

“Not through the blood.”

“But you have a sister,” Tish said, eyes keen. “So you know. Please, tell me what happened to my sister.”

“She and her husband were assaulted physically. Daphne was assaulted sexually.”

“She was beaten and she was raped.” Tish’s eyes filled, a few tears spilled over, but she stayed steady.

“Yes.”

“She’s in St. Andrew’s Hospital, in New York, in good condition?”

“Yes.”

“Is she able to speak, to talk?”

“Yes.”

“And she asked you to contact us?”

“No, she didn’t.”

Tish closed her eyes, nodded, swiped at tears. “Okay, got it. I’ll give you my parents’ contact information, but I’d like to talk to them first. It’s going to— They love her, so much. Let me talk to them first, so they don’t hear this from a stranger. From the police.”

“Why do you think she didn’t ask me to contact you?”

“He poisoned her. It’s like he infected her, God knows he controlled her. There wasn’t anything we could do, or … we couldn’t figure out the right thing to do. Hang a second, will you?”

The screen bobbled, then settled on a tilted image of a ceiling, a corner of a wall. Eve clearly heard the sound of a nose being thoroughly blown, then two, quick, hitching breaths, a longer, smoother one.

The screen shifted again. Tish’s face, eyes fierce, glittering wet, came back.

“I’m glad he’s dead. If I knew how, I’d be doing fucking cartwheels. I’m glad because now we can do something, do something, to bring her back. He killed my sister, he turned her into a droid. I have to tell my parents. I have to get to New York.”

Eve wrote down the contact info as Tish rattled it off.

“She’s under police protection and medical care, Miss DeSilva. I can’t say if she’ll agree to see you. And we’re in the middle of a blizzard.”