Authors: J. D. Robb
“Jayla.” He barely recognized his own voice. “Jayla, wake up. You have to stay awake. Come on, talk to me. It’s looser, a little looser. If I can get my arm free…”
Her eyes fluttered open. “I just wanna sleep now. I wanna go to sleep.”
“You can’t. Look at me. Remember, remember, that’s what you said to me before. They’re still asleep. I’m going to get my arm out. Maybe this time I can get us out. I know I hurt you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that. You didn’t. Not you. They’re going to kill me today, just like she said. She said, ‘We’re going to kill you tomorrow,’ and I don’t want them to. I just want to sleep, and not wake up. There are angels when you sleep.”
“No. Jayla.” He twisted harder, and the pain came in white-hot bolts. They’d cut her when they’d forced him to rape her – the second time the night before, they’d cut her to add to it all. He could see her blood on the stained plastic.
She hadn’t been able to fight and cry the second time. She’d only lain there. And she hadn’t heard what the bitch had said, not all of it. She hadn’t said they were going to kill her tomorrow. She’d said they were going to make
him
kill her.
And that was a terror beyond the pain.
The terror rose like bile in his throat when he heard a giggle.
They were awake, and it would all start again.
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.
But the cop kicked the knife aside, and yanked the spitting, screaming woman up, shoved her facedown on the bed.
“You’re under arrest.” She slapped on restraints as Ella-Loo shrieked for Darryl. “That’s for multiple counts of murder in the first, just for starters.”
“Darryl! Darryl! Get this bitch off me!”
Eve leaned down, covered her recorder. “My man is infinitely more than the excuse for one you have. And he’s already taken Darryl down.”
She uncovered the recorder, hauled Ella-Loo up. “You have the right to remain silent, but go ahead, keep right on screaming. It’s fucking music to my ears.”
Ella-Loo whipped her head around, snapped her teeth.
“Oooh, a biter. Now I’m scared.”
As Eve dragged her toward the door, Banner rushed in.
“You got her. You okay?”
“I’m dandy, she fell on some glass, so she’ll need medical. I haven’t finished reading her her rights. Why don’t you take her, Deputy, and do that?”
“That would be my considerable pleasure, Lieutenant.”
“She’s a biter.”
He showed his own teeth. “I’ve dealt with biters in my time.”
Eve took a breath when Banner hauled Ella-Loo out, flexed her left hand a couple times, then followed.
Darryl, still naked, lay on the floor, unconscious while a uniform cuffed him. Eve glanced at Roarke.
“I’d say that was grand fun, if not for…”
Together they looked over at the wounded.
Medical worked on them while cops cut bindings, and Peabody soothed.
“Don’t let her die.” Tears streamed down Reed’s face. “Don’t let her die, please. They made me rape her. I raped her, but she stayed strong. She didn’t blame me. Don’t let her die. Her name’s Jayla. They hurt her so bad. They wouldn’t stop.”
“We know who she is.” Eve stepped over to him. “We know who you are, Reed. Nothing that happened here is your fault. Medical is going to do everything they can for her. For you.”
McNab laid a blanket over him, stepped aside for medical. They lifted Reed onto a stretcher.
“Don’t let her die.” Reed’s gaze clung to Eve’s. “Her name’s Jayla.”
She turned to one of the MTs, studied Jayla’s gray face as she did. “Will she make it?”
“Lost a lot of blood. We’re pumping it and fluids into her now.” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you, but we’re about ready to get her out of here.”
“I want to be informed of her status, and Mulligan’s. I’m Lieutenant Dallas, out of Central.”
“I know who you are. Most of us do. I’ll add it to the data. Bastards sure worked her over. Take them down hard, Lieutenant.”
She planned to.
“I want this scene secured,” she called out. “I want sweepers in here. Everybody seal up, now. All records on, now. Suspects locked tight, examined and treated medically. By the book, people, every page of it.”
She walked over to Carmichael and Santiago. “The scene’s yours if you want it.”
“Then we’ve got it,” Santiago told her.
“Document everything, down to the last fleck of dust. Copy me, Whitney, Mira, Reo and Special Agent Zweck.”
Carmichael looked at the pool of blood on the plastic, the spatters of it, the smears of it on knives, hammers, screwdrivers, jags of glass.
“Sweat ’em hard, wring ’em dry.”
“Count on it.”
Eve stepped out into the cold, found it glorious after the stench. “Thanks for the assist,” she said when Roarke stepped out beside her.
“Oh, no, I’ll be seeing this one through. I shuffled some things, as I said, and I can get a bit of work done at Central. I’ll enjoy seeing you sweat ’em hard, wring ’em dry.”
“She might not make it. I could see it in the MTs’ eyes. They don’t think she’ll make it. A few hours earlier… who knows.”
“Eve.”
“I know, I know. It’s not on me, not on anybody but the two who did this to her. But she held out, with everything they did, she held out, held on. And now she might not make it.”
She rubbed her face hard.
“I need to contact her roommate.”
“I’ll do that,” Peabody said from behind her. “I’ll make the contacts for both of them, Dallas. Maybe with friends there, with family, they’ll both have a better chance. Banner and I will ride back with EDD, and I’ll make the contacts.”
“All right, good. I’ll brief Whitney – and get Mira in on this.” She blew out a breath that streamed away in a cloud. “Let’s get it done.”
She walked away from the nightmare of a dead man’s apartment – remembered they had next of kin to notify there.
“Consider my arm wrapped around you.”
“What?”
He smiled at her. “You’d object to such a gesture when cops can see you, but know it’s there, to lean on.”
“I’m okay. We caught the bad guys.”
“Peabody knew you could do with a bit of alone with me. Use it.”
“He – Reed – he’s hurt, but not as much as she is. They didn’t hurt him as much because they needed him physically able to rape. He’s going to make it, but… He might never get over what they made him do. He’s just a guy, just a regular, apparently decent enough guy, and he’ll have to live with this. They raped him, too. By forcing their will on him.”
“Mira, or someone like her, will help him understand that, and cope with it.”
“It takes a long time to cope. It takes a lot to cope with that. Some never get there.”
It put a hole in her belly remembering how close she’d been to never getting there.
“I don’t think I would have gotten there without you. I wouldn’t have gotten there, even with Mira, without you.”
“Now you’ve done it,” he murmured. “Cops or no.” He wrapped one arm around her, then the other. “You got there. We both did. And I wouldn’t change a moment of the time, good or bad, we’ve had together since I first turned and locked eyes on you. What a jolt that was through me.” He touched his lips to her brow. “I’ve never recovered.”
“Not even a minute of change?”
“Not one.”
“Because change one, change all.”
“Now you’ve remembered.”
“Okay.” She breathed deep, pulled back. “No more sloppy stuff on the street.” She strode the few paces to the van, called into Feeney. “Got their asses.”
“Now fry them up, kid.”
Roarke watched that hard grin flash on her face, and thought: There’s my cop.
Revved and ready, Eve marched toward Homicide.
“You already know how you’ll work them,” Roarke commented.
“Got a plan.” She slowed her pace when she spotted Zweck. “May have to adjust it. Special Agent.”
“Lieutenant. We need to talk.”
“Sure. My office.” She gave Roarke a glance, led the way into the bull pen where every cop in the room gave Zweck the fish-eye.
She gestured Zweck back as Roarke wandered across the room, perhaps to admire Jenkinson’s latest neckwear.
“Have a seat,” she invited, but Zweck just shook his head.
Reading him, Eve shut the door, then opted to edge down on the corner of her desk. “Parsens and James are in custody.”
“I heard.”
“Clean op, no officers injured. The suspects are now being or have been treated by medical for minor injuries sustained during the op. Both Campbell and Mulligan were taken to Clinton Hospital. The medicals on scene indicated Campbell’s chances are rocky.”
His mouth tightened, just for an instant. “I know who balled things up on our end.”
Recognizing barely suppressed rage when it was steaming barely a foot away, Eve only nodded.
“They’re both superiors, but I intend to use your work on this, your reports and this morning’s results to have them both reprimanded. They have superiors, too, and I’ll go as far up the chain as it takes. My report on this morning’s NYPSD operation will be delayed while I… assess the details and make a determination.”
She nodded again. “Okay. Understand, I want my shot at them, and Deputy Banner sure as hell deserves his, but I don’t give a single cold damn who gets the media on it, or which jurisdiction locks them up for the rest of their sick, twisted lives.”
“The federal government will insist on hosting them for the rest of their sick, twisted lives, but in the meantime, take your shot. I’ll make sure you have the time you need.”
“Good enough. Do you want a seat in Interview?”
“I’ll observe for now.”
“Good enough. I’ll set you up. Come,” she called out at the knock. Peabody poked her head in.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you’d want to know the suspects have been cleared medically. Word is Whitney’s on his way down, and Dr. Mira is on her way.”
“Have them brought up, separate boxes. They can simmer awhile.”
Peabody flicked a glance at Zweck. “Our boxes?”
“Yes, our boxes. Keep them separated.”
“I’ll get out of your way,” Zweck said. “Just let me know when you’re ready to start on them.”
“I will.”
Peabody edged aside to let him out. “He’s not taking over?”
“Pissed at his own people, so he’s flipping them the bird. He’ll observe for now, give us first crack. So let’s make it good. We’ll switch off between you and Banner. I want to take James first, with Banner, move to Parsens, with you, back to James, probably you, back to James, Banner. But we’ll see how it plays.”
“I’ll set it up. Whitney,” Peabody added under her breath, but Eve had already heard his authoritative stride. “Commander.”
“Detective. Good work. Lieutenant,” he said as he stepped into the doorway.
“Commander. I would have come to you.”
“I believe you’ve been and will be busier than I today.” He filled her office, a big man in a small room.
“Detective Peabody, bring them up.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll have a full written by end of day, Commander, but would like to start the interview process first. We have a window, provided by Special Agent Zweck to keep this in NYPSD hands.”