J. Robb - Possession in Death

“That's a deal.”

Upstairs she paused, walked over to where Natalya and Alexi sat on the steps, nodded at the cop standing by them. Natalya looked up, eyes flooded with tears.

“They said — we heard — there are bodies.”

“Yes.”

“My brother.” Her voice broke as she pressed her face to her son's chest. “He was broken, but he took his medication. We went on — we both went on. What has he done? In the mercy of God, what has he done?”

“She didn't know.” Alexi held her close while she sobbed. “We didn't know, I swear it. My uncle, he's such a quiet man. Such a quiet man. Beata? She's all right?”

“She'll be all right. We're going to have to take you and your mother down to Central. We need to talk.”

He only nodded and stroked his mother's hair. “We didn't know.”

“I believe you.”

“A nightmare for them,” Roarke commented as they stepped outside into the warm night.

“One that won't end anytime soon.”

Gawkers pressed behind the barricades. Cops swarmed, lights flared, and the air was busy with voices and communicators. Reporters, alerted to the scene, shouted questions.

Eve ignored them all as Beata broke away from Mira and ran to her.

“They said Mamoka is dead. Sasha killed her — my great-grandmother.”

“Yes. I'm very sorry.”

The sound she made was deep, dark grief. “Mamoka. She came for me, to find me. And he killed her.”

“He'll pay for that, for all of it.” And this time, Eve reminded herself, it was enough. “She did find you, and that's what mattered most to her. She told me your name. She . . . showed me the way.”

“She spoke to you?”

“She did. And I know she's okay, because you are. You can see her tomorrow. I'll arrange it. But now, you need to go to the health center, get checked out. You need to listen to Dr. Mira. We'll talk again.”

“There were others.” Her face stark, Beata stared at the old building with its glittering windows. “I heard — ”

“We'll talk again,” Eve said.

Beata pressed her fingers to her eyes, nodded, then dropped them. “I'm sorry. I never asked your name.”

“I'm Dallas.” Through and through, she thought, in and out and all the way. “Lieutenant Eve Dallas.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Dallas.” Beata held out a hand. “For every day of the rest of my life.”

“Make good use of them.” Eve shook her hand, then sent her back to Mira.

Eve took a breath, then tuned in to the lights, the noise, the movement. Her world, she thought, and walked back to Roarke.

“Things to wrap up,” she told him. “Reports to file, killers to question.”

“You look pretty pleased about it.”

“All in all, I am. But tomorrow? Why don't we stay home, watch old vids and eat junk food, maybe drink a whole bunch of wine and have half-drunk sex?”

“A master plan. I'm in.”

“Excellent. I have to go back down there. You could wait here or go on home.”

“Lieutenant.” He took her hand again. “I'm with you.”

“Well, you're handy,” she said, grinned again.

She walked back toward the building with him to do the job. She felt tired, violently hungry, and completely herself.