Visions in Death

  “Very possibly.” Excitement shone in Celina’s eyes as she leaned forward. “It’s more what I do. That connection. If I could link, I might see something.”

  “I’ll work on that. I don’t know if I can be there for your session today. We’ve caught a break and I’m following it through. The witnesses from last night got a pretty good look at him.”

  “Thank God. If you can identify him, this will be over. Thank God.”

  “I’ll work on getting you something as soon as I can.”

  “Anytime. Absolutely anytime. I’ll come in as soon as you want me. I’m sick about Peabody, Dallas. Just sick about it.”

  Some time during the endless night, McNab dropped off in the chair beside Peabody’s bed. He’d lowered the guard so he could reach her more easily, and when fatigue won, he rested his head beside her breast with his hand under the sheet and linked with hers.

  He didn’t know what woke him—the pings of the monitors, the shuffle of feet outside the room, the light that spilled through the window. But he lifted his head, winced with the crick in his neck, rubbing it out as he studied her face.

  They hadn’t yet treated the bruising, and it broke his heart to see her face so damaged. It twisted his belly to see her so still.

  “It’s morning.” He cleared the worst of the hoarseness from his voice. “Morning, baby. Ah, sun’s out, but it looks like we might get some rain. You, ah, had a lot of people in and out, checking on you. If you don’t wake up, you’re going to miss all the attention. I was going to get you flowers, but I didn’t want to leave you that long. You wake up, and I’ll take care of that. Want some flowers? Come on, She-body, rise and shine.”

  He slipped her hand out, pressed it to his cheek. There were nasty abrasions down the arm where it had skidded over the sidewalk.

  “Come on, come on back. We got a lot to do, you know. Moving day.”

  He kept her hand there as he turned his head and watched Mavis come in.

  She said nothing, only walked to him, laid a hand on the back of his head.

  “How’d you get by the dragons?”

  “Said I was her sister.”

  It made him close his eyes. “Close enough. She’s still out.”

  “Bet she knows you’re here.” Mavis leaned over, touched her lips to his cheek. “Leonardo’s down getting her some flowers. She’ll like having them when she wakes up.”

  “We were just talking about that. Oh, Christ.” He turned his head, pressed his face into Mavis’s side as he fought to hold on.

  She waited, stroking his hair until the tremors passed, and he was able to draw a steady breath. “I’ll sit with her if you want to take a walk, get some air.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Okay.”

  He shifted, but stayed close so they watched the steady rise and fall of Peabody’s chest together. “Louise checked on her a few times. I think she and Charles stayed most of the night.”

  “I saw him in the waiting area. Dallas?”

  “She’s going after the bastard. She’s hunting the animal who did this to her.”

  “Then she’ll get him.” After giving him a pat, Mavis turned away to pull over a chair.

  “Wait, sorry, let me get that. You shouldn’t be hauling stuff.”

  At best, the folding chair weighed four pounds, but she let him move it over for her. “McNab, there isn’t a lot we—me and Leonardo—can do. But we can move your stuff, set up your new place.”

  “It’s a lot of stuff. I don’t want—”

  “We can do that, if you let us. Then when she’s better, you can just, you know, carry her in. It’ll be done. You need to be here, with her. We can do this for you. For both of you.”

  “I . . . that’d be mag. Thanks, Mavis.”

  “Hey, we’re going to be neighbors.”

  “You, ah, don’t go lifting anything heavy. With that bun in the oven.”

  “Don’t worry.” She rubbed a hand over her belly. “I won’t.”

  “I feel like I’m going to fall apart any second. Then the second passes, and it’s the next, and I . . .” He jerked straight in the chair. “I think she moved. Did you see that?”

  “No, but I—”

  “She moved. Her fingers.” He turned over the hand he held in his. “I felt them move. Come on, Peabody. Wake up.”

  “I saw it that time.” With her fingers gripping his shoulders, she leaned forward. “Look, she’s trying to open her eyes. Do you want me to get somebody?”

  “Wait. Wait.” He pushed up, leaned over. “Open your eyes, Peabody. You can hear me. No sliding back under again. Come on, you’re going to be late for your tour.”

  She made some sound—part gurgle, part moan, part sigh—and he’d never heard sweeter music. Her lids fluttered, and her swollen, blackened eyes opened.

  “There you are.” The tears flooded his throat; he swallowed most of them and grinned at her.

  “What happened?”

  “You’re in the hospital. You’re okay.”

  “Hospital. Can’t remember.”

  “Doesn’t matter now. You hurt anywhere?”

  “I . . . everywhere. God, what happened to me?”

  “It’s okay. Mavis.”

  “I’ll get somebody.”

  When she dashed out, McNab pressed his lips to Peabody’s hand. “It’s going to be okay now. I promise. Dee. Baby.”

  “I was . . . coming home.”

  “You’ll get there. Soon.”

  “Can I have drugs first?”

  He laughed, as tears rolled out of his eyes.

  Eve caught herself leaning over Yancy’s shoulder, and eased back.

  “It’s okay. Used to it. Let me tell you first, if everybody brought me witnesses like yours, my job would be a hell of a lot easier. Maybe a little boring.”

  Then he glanced back at Roarke. “This is one of your programs.”

  “So I see. It’s one of the best image programs on the market though we’re working on some upgrades. Still, it’s only as efficient as its operator.”

  “I like to think so.”

  “Can you guys get back to your admiration session later?”

  “Well, take a look. Here’s the sketch your wit brought in, and here’s my revised image, after the session. See? We got a little more detail, subtle alterations, but they can boost time on an ID match.”

  “Less Frankenstein,” Roarke commented.

  “Yeah. The behavior of the subject tends to influence the witness’s memory of his physicality. They see this big guy pounding on a woman, and he takes on giant characteristics. Monster shit. But your wit had the basics, and he had them down. Square face, lots of forehead, shiny dome. Knowing about the sealant lets me program that element. The shades hamper the ID—eyes are the best element for a match. But from here, we start building, using the program.”

  He initiated, took the sketch through the building stages. “Profile. Adding dimension, skull shape.”

  Eve watched Yancy use a stylist to prompt the program, section by section, on the image.

  “Ears, line of neck. Revolve to back view, other profile. Full face. Shape of the mouth, nose, angle of bone. Get it to three dimensions, add skin tone. Okay, this is the best probability, given current data. To take it the last step, you have to go with a combo of your own judgment and the comp’s. Remove shades.”

  Eve stared at the eyeless face, felt a shudder run through her.

  “Apt,” Roarke stated.

  “Yeah.”

  “His eyes could be damaged, but for ID purposes, we’re going to try the highest probabilities for the shape. Color’s not an option, though I’d lean toward dark with this skin tone and the eyebrows. Highest percentage. Going that direction, this is what I get.”

  Eve studied the finished image. The hard, square face, soft mouth, thick eyebrows over small, dark eyes. The nose was large, slightly hooked, the ears prominent against the bald skull.

  “There he is,” she said quie
tly.

  “If it’s not damn near close as a photograph, you can spank me,” Yancy said. “I’ll toss this to your office unit. Got you plenty of hard copies. I’ll pass some out myself. You want me to run the ID match?”

  “Shoot it to Feeney in EDD. Nobody’s faster.” Then she glanced at Roarke, saw him smile. “Hardly. That’s a hell of a job, Yancy. One hell of a job.”

  “Your wits were gold.” He handed her a stack of hard copies. “Tell Peabody we’re pulling for her.”

  “Bet your ass.” She punched him lightly on the shoulder, a sign of affection as much as appreciation, and hurried out. “Going to run for a match myself. Feeney’ll probably beat me to it, but we’ll get this started. And once we—shit, shit, shit.”

  She yanked out her beeping communicator. Seeing McNab’s code on the readout, she stopped short. Instinctively, she reached for Roarke’s hand as she answered. “Dallas.”

  “She’s awake.”

  “On my way.”

  Eve all but sprinted down the hospital corridor, and when an ICU attendant held up a hand, she only snarled. “Don’t try it.”

  She surged through the door and straight into Peabody’s room. And stopped short.

  Peabody was propped up in bed, a vague smile on her battered face. The short counter under the single window had been transformed into a garden, with flowers jammed together in such abundance their scent overpowered even the hospital scent.

  McNab stood beside her, holding her hand as if he’d been glued there. Louise was on the other side. And perched on a chair was Mavis, doing some blooming of her own in florid purple and green.

  “Hey, Dallas.” Peabody’s voice was slightly slurred and absolutely cheerful. “Hello, Roarke. Jeez, he’s just so gorgeous, what’re ya gonna do? You gotta think about it.”

  Louise chuckled. “And who could blame you? You’ll have to excuse her,” she said to Eve. “They gave her something for the pain.”

  “Something really, ’specially good.” Peabody grinned. “Totally iced drugs.”

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Very well.” Louise gave Peabody a light pat. “She’s got more treatments in store. Tests, scans, therapy—all that fussy medical business. And she’ll need to be monitored carefully for a while yet. But they’ve bumped her all the way down to stable. She’ll move to a standard room within a few hours if she stays stable. I expect her condition will be deemed good by the end of the day.”

  “You see my face? I mean, whoa shit! Messed me up good. They had to—what was it—reconstruct my cheekbone. I don’t know why they couldn’ta done both while they were in there, and given me some. Cheekbones, you know? And he dislocated my jaw, so I’m talking funny. But it doesn’t hurt a bit. I love drugs. Can I have more?”

  “Can you cut them back a little?” Eve asked.

  “Aw.” Peabody poked out her bottom lip.

  “I need to talk to her, get her statement. I need her a little more coherent for that.”

  “I’ll check, see what I can do. But you’ll need to keep it short.”

  “She’s in a lot of pain without them,” McNab said when Louise stepped out.

  “She’d want to do this.”

  “I know.” He sighed, smiled as Peabody examined the fingers of her free hand. “She’s really wonked.”

  “How come we don’t have six fingers, you think? Six would be frosty. Hey, Mavis!”

  “Hey, Peabody.” Mavis moved across the room, slid an arm around Eve’s waist. “She says, ‘Hey, Mavis,’ about every five minutes,” she whispered. “It’s cute. I’m going to go out, sit with Leonardo and Charles while you do this part. Anybody you want us to tag to update them?”

  “We spread the word, but thanks. Thanks, Mavis.”

  Louise and Mavis passed, going in and out. “I’m going to cut her IV down a little and give you ten minutes tops. She doesn’t need to deal with pain right now.”

  “Can I kiss Roarke first? Come on. Please, please, please!”

  Though Eve rolled her eyes, Roarke laughed and walked to the bed. “How about I kiss you, gorgeous?”

  “Not so pretty right now,” she said. Coyly.

  “You’re beautiful to me. Absolutely beautiful.”

  “Awwww, see? What’re ya gonna do?”

  He leaned down, laid his lips softly on hers.

  “Mmmm.” She patted him on the cheek when he lifted his head. “Better’n drugs even.”

  “Remember me?” McNab asked.

  “Ah, yeah, skinny guy. Crazy about the skinny guy. He’s just so cute. Got the cutest little butt. Oughta see it naked.”

  “Louise, cut them back. Have mercy,” Eve demanded.

  “Takes a minute.”

  “Stayed with me all night. Sweet boy. Love the sweet boy. Heard you talking to me sometimes. You can kiss me, too. Everybody can kiss me because . . . oh-oh.”

  “Give me some room,” Eve demanded. “Peabody.”

  “Sir.”

  “You get a look at him?”

  “Yes, sir.” She drew a breath, shakily. “Jesus, Dallas, he messed me up. Came at me like a hell-god. I kept feeling stuff breaking and tearing inside me. Hell of a thing.”

  Her fingers moved restlessly on the sheet, then dug in as she struggled with the pain. Eve covered it with hers, stilled it.

  “I got to my weapon, though. I hit him. I know I did. Arm, shoulder maybe, but I nailed one in him.”

  “You see his vehicle?”

  “I didn’t. Sorry. I just—”

  “Forget it. He say anything to you?”

  “Called me a whore. Whore cop.”

  “You make the voice if you hear it again?”

  “Bet your ass. Sir. I think I heard him. . . . It sounds weird, but I think he called for his mother. Or called me Mother. Maybe it was me, calling for mine, because I can tell you, I wanted her.”

  “Okay.”

  “I can give you a full description.”

  “I’m going to show you a picture. Tell me if it’s him.”

  She held it up, adjusting the position so Peabody could study it without moving.

  “That’s him. He had a lot of sealant on his face, but that’s him. You got him?”

  “Not yet. We will. Can’t take you on the bust because you’ll be having your drug party, but we’ll take him, and you’re part of it.”

  “Will you tell me when you’ve got him?”

  “You’ll be the first.”

  She stepped back, nodded to Louise. “You want to get sprung from here, you can recoup at our place if you need to.”

  “Appreciate it. I . . . whee!” She laughed as the drugs bumped up. “That’s more like it.”

  “We’ll be back,” Eve promised. McNab was on her heels as she went out.

  “Dallas? We’re crapping out on the Transit discs. Since you got your ID, you won’t need me on that anyway. Anything else you need me to do?”

  “Get some sleep.”

  “Not until.”

  She nodded. “Stick with her. I’ll let you know if anything comes up. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She strode away, headed straight for the woman’s bathroom. Inside, she just sat on the floor, pressed her hands to her face, and cried.

  Her chest hurt with it, heaved with it as the pressure finally broke free. Her throat was raw, her head thumping as the emotions she’d stifled took over, poured out in a hot, violent flood.

  And sucked her dry.

  She started to spring up when she heard the door open, then stayed where she was when she saw Mavis.

  She just lifted her hands, let them fall. “Shit, Mavis.”

  “I know.” Mavis settled down beside her. “Scared everybody. I had my jag already. You can go ahead, finish yours.”

  “I think I did.” But because she could, she let her head lean on Mavis’s shoulder a moment. “Maybe after she’s better, Trina could give her the full works. Peabody’d like that. She can be a real girl.”

  “Good
thinking. We’ll have a complete girl party.”

  “I didn’t mean . . . sure, whatever. You got any sunshades on you?”

  “Do monkeys screw in the jungle?” She reached into the purple fringe worked into her shirt and drew out a pair of purple shades with green lenses.

  “What the hell.” Deciding they were marginally better than going around with red, swollen eyes, Eve put them on.

  “Uptown!”

  “No, I’m thinking down.” Eve got up, helped Mavis to her feet. “Thanks for the loan. I’ve gotta go bust this bastard.”

  Chapter 21

  Roarke said nothing until they were back in the car, Eve behind the wheel.

  “Not your usual fashion accessory.”

  “Huh?”

  He tapped a finger on the frames.

  “Oh. Mavis. I, ah, borrowed them because . . .” She blew out a breath.

  “You don’t need to hide them from me.” He slipped the glasses off, leaning over to lay light kisses on her eyelids.

  “Aw,” she said with a half smile. “What’re ya gonna do?” She threw her arms around him, burrowing in. “I didn’t want to break down and start blubbering all over McNab. I got most of it out, so you don’t have to worry about me blubbering all over you.”

  “I never worry. You were due for a breakdown, and you timed it until you were sure our girl was going to be all right.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” It was so good to hold, to be held. “Now we’re going to take care of business.” She eased back. “Eyes bad?”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  She rolled them. “This is not Peabody on drugs.”

  “By the time you get to Central, good as new.”

  “Okay.” But she stuck the sunshades back on. “Just in case.”

  They weren’t even out of the parking garage when her communicator beeped. “Dallas.”

  “Got him.”

  “Oh Jesus, Feeney. Send it through to my vehicle’s unit. I want to see him. We’re on our way to Central now. Can you meet me in my office?”

  “I’ll be there. Take a look.”

  Quickly, she programmed the vehicle for Central’s garage and shifted to auto so she could give the image her full attention.