Devoted in Death (In Death 41)

Some movement from the source closest to the front window,” Eve murmured. “One of the vics is awake. And, wait… movement from the bedroom. I need to see, Roarke.”

“Nearly there.”

She stared at the screen, watched it flicker, then pop clear. A floor littered with outdoor gear. Before she could demand, Roarke began to slowly slide the eyes over.

“Hold. We’ve got eyes on the two civilians. Visual confirmation on Mulligan. He’s awake, struggling, sluggish. Visual confirmation on Campbell, who appears to be unconscious. Both are bound. She’s got blood leaking from somewhere. There’s a lot of it on the floor. No visual on suspects.”

“Ears are coming,” Roarke murmured.

“If they’re still in bed, we move in, cover the civilians. Uniform Carmichael, move in here now. Banner, move on the front.”

Roarke tied in audio. And Eve heard a giggle.

“Suspects are up, up and moving. Get the locks.”

“One second. No riot bar.” Roarke angled the portable aside, took out tools. “You’re low, as usual.”

“I’m high, you’re high. Peabody, Carmichael, you’re in behind us and cut right, get to the civilians. Banner, bring the rest in now.”

“We’re clear,” Roarke told her.

“Enter in five, four, three.” She used her fingers for the last count. And they hit the door.

The crash shook the air. Shouts, a wall of noise and movement followed it.

James, naked, held a ballpeen hammer. Parsens, wearing sexy stolen underwear, a small kitchen knife. Parsens screamed, turned to flee.

“Stop! Police!”

James hurled the hammer. Eve heard it thwack against the wall as she dodged.

“I’ve got him,” Roarke said coolly. “Why don’t you take care of the woman?”

James, wild-eyed now, charged at Roarke. Knowing her man, Eve left him to it, went after Parsens.

When Eve found the bedroom door closed and locked, she just shook her head. Rearing back she kicked once, twice, nipped away from a flying bottle when the door crashed in.

“Give it up, Ella-Loo.”

“Stay away from me, or I’ll kill you!” She swept another bottle from the floor, this time smashing it against the wall, then jabbing out with the jagged glass with one hand, the knife with the other.

“Are you kidding me with that? Do you not see the stunner in my hand?”

“I’m going to cut your face off.”

“Okay, give it a shot.”

Swinging the broken bottle over her head, swiping and jabbing with the knife, Ella-Loo leaped forward. Eve considered the stunner in that brief second, then went for the more satisfying. A left cross.

She had to pull it, a little, to avoid the knife. But not much.

She wasn’t sorry when the bitch fell back onto shattered glass and, screaming, rolled over bloody.

“Yeah, how do you like it?”

A dark part of her might have enjoyed rolling the murdering bitch right back over the glass shards, and maybe the boot that stepped down on the knife caught a couple fingers under it.

The quick, shocked yip didn’t hurt her feelings.