J. Robb - Survivor in Death

“But I wanted Mom.” Her voice cracked with tears and mucus flowing. “I wanted Dad, and I went up the back way, Inga's way, and I saw them. Two of them. They were going into my room, and Coyle's room, and I knew what they would do, but I wanted my mom, and I crawled in, and I got their blood on me, and I saw them. They were dead. They're all dead, aren't they? Everybody. I couldn't go look. I went to hide.”

“You did right. You did exactly right. Look at me. Nixie.” She waited until those drenched eyes met hers. “You're alive, and you did everything right. Because you did, it's going to help me find the people who did this, and make them pay.”

“My mommy's dead.” Crawling into Eve's lap, she wept and wept and wept.

It was nearly five a.m. before Eve could get back to Peabody, and the work.

“How's the kid?”

“No better than you'd expect. Got the social worker and a doctor with her. Cleaning her up, doing a physical. I had to swear an oath I wouldn't leave the house before she'd unclamp herself.”

“You found her, came when she called for help kind of thing.”

“She made the nine-one-one on the housekeeper's pocket 'link, from down there.” She caughtPeabody up with Nixie's timetable.

“From what she was able to tell me so far, it jibes with how it looks to me-efficient professional job. Come in. Bypass or jam alarms and security. One takes the housekeeper. That's the first hit. She's isolated, on another floor, and they need to deal with her first, insure she doesn't wake up, catch a whiff and tag the cops. Other guy's probably upstairs, ready to move if anybody up there wakes up. Then they do the parents together.”

“One for each,” Peabody agreed. “No noise, no struggle. Deal with the adults first. Kids aren't a big worry.”

“One takes the boy, one takes the girl. They're expecting one boy, one girl. It was dark, so the fact they killed the wrong kid doesn't necessarily mean they didn't know the family personally. They were expecting to find one small blonde girl, and they did. Job's done, and they walk out.”

“No blood trail leading out of the house.”

“Seal up in protective gear, strip it off when you're done. No muss, no fuss. You get time of deaths?”

“Oh two-fifteen on the housekeeper. Maybe three minutes later on Dad, Mom right after. Another minute or so for each kid. Whole deal took five, six minutes. Cold and clean.”

“Not so clean. They left a witness. Kid's messed up now, but I think we'll get more out of her. She's got a brain, and she's got spine. Doesn't scream when she sees her housekeeper get her throat cut.”

She put herself into the child, imagined those few minutes when murder cut quietly through the house.

“Terrified, she's got to be terrified, but she doesn't go running away so she can get caught and hacked up. She stays quiet, and she calls nine-one-one. Gutsy.”

“What happens to her now?”

“Safe house, sealed record, uniform guards, a rep from Child Protection.” The cold steps, the impersonal stages. The kid's life, as she knew it, had ended at approximately two-fifteen. “We'll need to see if she's got other family, or if there's legal guardianship. Later today, we'll talk to her again, see what more we can squeeze out. I want this house sealed up like a biodome, and we'll start running the adult vies.”

“Dad was a lawyer-family law-Mom was a nutritionist. Private practice, run primarily out of an office space on the lower level. Those locks are still in place, and it doesn't appear anything's been disturbed in that area.”

“We look at their work, their clients, their personals. This kind of hit, it's pro, and it's thorough. Maybe one or both of them-or the housekeeper-had a sideline that linked up with organized crime. Nutritionist, could be a front for Illegals. Keep the client thin and happy the easy way.”

“There's an easy way? A way that includes unlimited portions of pizza and no hideous stomach crunches?”

“A little Funk, a little Go as part of your basic food groups.” Eve lifted a shoulder. “Maybe she screwed with her supplier. Maybe one of them had an affair with a wrong number that ended bad. You're going to wipe out a whole family, you've got one hell of a motivation. We'll see if the sweepers turn up something on scene. Meanwhile, I want to go through each room again myself. I didn't get much of a…”

She broke off when she heard the steady clip of shoes, and turned to see the social worker, sleepy-eyed but neat as a church, walk into the room. Newman, Eve remembered. GPS drone, and from the looks of her not too happy with the early call.

“Lieutenant, the doctor has found no physical injuries. It would be best if we transported the minor subject now.”

“Give me a few minutes to arrange security. My partner can go up, pack some things for her. I want to-”

She broke off again. This time it wasn't a steady clip of shoes, but running bare feet. Still wearing the bloodied nightshirt, Nixie ran in, and threw herself at Eve.

“You said you wouldn't leave.”

“Hey, standing right here.”

“Don't let them take me. They said they were going to take me away. Don't let them.”

“You can't stay here.” She pried Nixie's fingers from her legs, crouched until they were eye-to-eye. “You know you can't.”

“Don't let them take me. I don't want to go with her. She's not the police.”

“I'm going to have police go with you, and stay with you.”

“You have to. You have to.”

“I can't. I have to work. I have to do what's right for your mom and dad, for your brother and your friend. For Inga.”

“I won't go with her. You can't make me go with her.”

“Nixie-”

“Hey.” Voice pleasant, a non-threatening smile on her face, Peabody stepped in. “Nixie, I need to talk to the lieutenant for a minute-just over here. Nobody's going anywhere yet, okay. I just need to talk to her. Dallas?” Peabody walked to the far side of the room, where they were still in Nixie's line of sight.

Dallas joined her.

“What? Can I make a break for it?”

“You should take her.”

“ Peabody, I need to do a more thorough on-scene.”

“I've done one, and you can come back and do your own.”

“So I ride with her to the safe house? Then she wigs on me when I have to leave her with uniforms. What's the point?”

“I don't mean take her to a safe house. Take her home. No place safer in the city-probably on the planet-than your place.”

Eve said nothing for ten full seconds. “Are you out of your mind?”

“No, and just listen first. She trusts you. She knows you're in charge, and she trusts you to keep her safe. She's the eye witness, and she's a traumatized kid. We'll get more out of her, bound to, if she feels safe, if she's settled, at least as much as she can be. A few days, like a transition, before she ends up in the system. Put yourself in her shoes, Dallas. Would you feel better being with the icy, kick-ass cop, or the bored, overworked GPS drone?”

“I can't babysit a kid. I'm not equipped.”

“You're equipped to pull information out of a witness and this would give you full access. You wouldn't have to go through the annoyance of clearance from GPS every time you want to question her.”

Thoughtfully now, Eve glanced back at Nixie. “Probably only be a day, two tops. Summerset knows about kids. Even if he is an asshole. How much more traumatized could she get looking at his ugly face, considering? Basically I'd be housing a witness. Big house.”

“That's the spirit.”

Eve frowned, studiedPeabody 's face. “Pretty clever for somebody who's only been back on the job for a couple of days.”

“I may not be up for chasing down suspects on foot quite yet, but my mind? Sharp as ever.”