Promises in Death (In Death 28)

She thought of Callendar and some bulky e-geek named Sisto, preparing to be flung like a couple of stones from a slingshot toward the cold rock of Omega. Callendar, Eve recalled, had appeared seriously juiced at the prospect of her first off-planet assignment.

It took all kinds.

This time tomorrow they’d be there, be digging in. They’d mine those logs and find what she needed. They’d damn well better find what she needed. Because every inch of her gut said Max Ricker had ordered the hit. She’d get to the why; she’d get to the how. But the e-team had to get her Ricker and his contact.

Max Ricker wouldn’t pay for killing a cop. What more could be done to a man who would live the rest of his miserable life in a cage? But others could and would pay, and that would have to be enough.

She hoped it would be enough.

The doors of the room Morris had chosen stood open so the music flowed through them. The bluesy sort he and the woman he’d loved had enjoyed. She caught the scent of flowers—the roses—before she stepped into the room crowded with cops.

Red roses, Eve noted, and photographs of the dead. Casual, candid shots of Coltraine smiling mixed with formal ones. Coltraine in uniform looking polished and serious, in a summer dress on some beach laughing. Small white candles burned a soft, soothing light.

With some relief she saw no casket—either closed or open—no clear-sided box currently in vogue that displayed the body. The photographs were enough to bring her into the room.

She saw Morris through the crowd standing with a man in his late twenties. Coltraine’s brother, Eve realized. The resemblance was too strong for anything else.

Peabody broke away from a group and moved to Eve’s side. “It’s a big turnout. That’s a good thing, if there can be a good thing. It feels weird being in blues again, but you were right about that.” She tugged her stiff jacket more perfectly into place. “It’s more respectful.”

“Not all her squad thought so.” Eve’s gaze tracked over. Coltraine’s lieutenant and Detective O’Brian wore the blue, but the others in her squad elected to remain in soft clothes.

“A lot of the cops stopped in from the field, or came in before they had to head out again. There’s not always time to change.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s hard seeing Morris like this. Seeing him hurt.”

“Watch the cops instead,” Eve suggested. “Watch her squad. Make sure you speak to every one of them. I want impressions. I’ll be doing the same.”

But for now, Eve thought, she had to take the hard, and speak to Morris.

13

EVE BRUSHED BY O’BRIAN FIRST, DELIBERATELY, then stopped. “Detective.”

“Lieutenant.” He met her eyes, then looked away to the roses and candles. “Morris did right here. It’s the right way. For her, for us. It’s the right way.”

“The cop way?”

He smiled, just a little. “Some of that. But the rest? It shows who she was. You can see her here.”

“It’s hard for you, losing one of your squad.”

“I see her desk every day. Somebody else’ll be sitting there before much longer, and you’ll get used to it. But it’s hard not seeing her there. Harder knowing why. My wife just came in. Excuse me.”

He moved off, working his way toward a woman who stood just inside the doors. She held out a hand, and O’Brian took it.

Eve turned away. She waited until a group of people speaking to Morris stepped off. Then went to him.

“Dallas.” Now it was Morris who held out a hand, and she who took it.

“You did right here,” she said, echoing O’Brian.

Morris’s fingers tightened on hers briefly. “It’s all I could do. Lieutenant Dallas, this is July Coltraine, Ammy’s brother.”

Concentration narrowed in July’s gaze. “You’re the one in charge of . . .”

“Yes. I’m very sorry for your loss, for your family’s loss.”