"Okay. What color are my eyes?"
"They're really, really blue. Like in a picture."
"What color were his?"
"I… green, I think. Sorta green, but not like Dopey's. Maybe they were green, but they were mean. Not mean like yours were when you talked to Snitch Bitch. His were more scared mean. That's worse, 'cause they hit you more when they're scared mean."
"So they do," Roarke murmured and draped an arm around Kevin's shoulders. "That was well done. Lieutenant Dallas would say you'd make a good cop."
Kevin belched again, shook his head. "Shit work."
"Often," Roarke agreed. "Who blackened your eye, Kevin?"
He felt the boy pull back, just an inch. "Walked into something."
"I often had that problem when I was your age. Will your mother be looking for you?"
"Nah. She works late, so she sleeps mostly. She gets pissed if I'm around when she's sleeping."
Gently, Roarke took the boy's chin in his hand until their eyes met. He hadn't saved Jennie, he thought, and would have to live with that. But there were lost children everywhere.
"Do you want to stay here, stay with her?"
To Kevin, the man's face looked like an angel's. He'd seen one on screen once when he'd snuck into a vid-den. "I got no place else."
"That's not what I'm asking you," Roarke said quietly. "Do you want to stay here with her, or do you want to go with the CPS?"
Kevin swallowed hard. "The CPS, they put you in a box, then they sell you."
"No, they don't." But it would seem like that, Roarke knew. As a child he had chosen his father's fists over the system. "Would you like to go somewhere else entirely?"
"Can I go with you? I can work for you."
"One day maybe." Roarke ran a hand over the boy's hair. "I know some people you might like. If it's what you want I can see about having you stay with them. You can take some time to make up your minds about each other."
"Dopey has to go, too." Kevin would give up his mother with her unhappy eyes and quick slaps, but he wouldn't give up the cat.
"Of course."
Kevin bit his lip, turned his head to look up at the building. "I don't have to go back in there?"
"No." Not as long as money bought freedom and choices. "You don't."
• • •
When Eve came out onto the street she was surprised, and a little annoyed, to see Roarke and the boy were still there. They were a few yards up the street, talking with a woman. From the navy blue suit, side arm zapper, and sour expression, Eve pegged her as the social worker for this section of the city.
Why the hell isn't she moving the boy along? Eve wondered. She'd wanted the kid and Roarke gone before the body was brought out and transferr
ed to the morgue.
"All the bagged evidence is stowed, Dallas." Peabody stepped up beside her. "They're bringing the victim out now."
"Go in and tell them to hold for five minutes."
She started toward them, relieved when she watched the social worker walk off with the boy. To her surprise the kid turned, flashed a killer smile at Roarke, and waved.
"CPS took their time, as usual."