J. Robb - Survivor in Death

“Officer?”

“Lieutenant Dallas. Matthew Dyson?”

“Yeah. Sorry, we're not up yet.” He cupped his hand over a huge yawn. “What time is it?”

“Just after seven. Mr. Dyson-”

“Is there a problem in the hotel?”

“Can we come in, Mr. Dyson, speak to you and your wife?”

“Jenny's still in bed.” The sleepy look was fading into mild irritation. “What's the problem?”

“We'd like to come in, Mr. Dyson.”

“All right, all right. Hell.” He stepped back, waved at them to shut the door.

They'd sprung for a suite-one of the dreamy, romantic ones with banks of real flowers, real candles, fireplace, deep sofas. There was a bottle of champagne upended in a silver bucket on the coffee table. Two flutes, and she noted, some lacy portion of female lingerie draped like a flag over the back of the sofa.

“Would you get your wife, Mr. Dyson?”

His eyes were brown like his hair. And irritation flashed into them. “Look, she's sleeping. It's our anniversary-or was yesterday-and we celebrated. My wife's a doctor, and she works long hours. She never gets to sleep in. So tell me what the hell you want.”

“I'm sorry, we need to speak with both of you.”

“If there's a problem with the hotel-”

“Matt?” A woman opened the bedroom door. She was sleep-tousled and robed, and smiling as she shoved a hand through her short, disordered blonde curls. “Oh, I thought you must've ordered room service. I heard voices.”

“Mrs. Dyson, I'm Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. This is my partner, Detective Peabody.”

“The police.” Her smile became uncertain as she walked to her husband, hooked an arm through his. “We weren't that loud last night.”

“I'm sorry. There was an incident at the Swishers' early this morning.”

“Keelie and Grant?” Matt Dyson went stiff and straight. “What kind of incident? Is everyone all right? Linnie. Did something happen to Linnie?”

Fast, Eve knew. Like a short-armed punch to the face. “I'm sorry to tell you that your daughter was killed.”

While Jenny's eyes went blank and frozen, Matt's went hot with rage. “That's ridiculous. What is this, some sort of sick joke? I want you out of here, I want you to get out.”

“Linnie? Linnie?” Jenny shook her head. “This can't be true. This can't be right. Keelie and Grant are too careful. They love her like their own. They'd never let anything happen to her. I need to call Keelie.”

“Mrs. Swisher is dead,” Eve said flatly. “Persons unknown entered the residence last night. Mr. and Mrs. Swisher, their housekeeper, their son Coyle, your daughter were murdered. Their daughter Nixie was overlooked, and is now under protective custody.”

“This is a mistake.”

Jenny squeezed a hand on her husband's arm as he began to shake. “But they have security. They have good security.”

“It was compromised. We're investigating. I'm sorry for your loss. I'm extremely sorry.”

“Not my baby.” It wasn't a cry so much as a wail as Matt Dyson crumbled, as he turned to his wife and collapsed against her. “Not our baby.”

“She's just a little girl.” Jenny rocked, herself, her husband, as her shattered eyes clung to Eve's. “Who would hurt an innocent little girl?”

“I intend to find out. Peabody.”

On cue, Peabody stepped forward. “Why don't we sit down? Can I get you something. Water? Tea?”

“Nothing, nothing.” With her arm still wrapped around her husband, Jenny sank with him onto the couch. “Are you sure it was my Linnie? Maybe-”

“She's been identified. There's no mistake. I'm sorry I have to intrude at this time, but I need to ask you a few questions. Did you know the Swishers well?”

“We… Oh God, dead?” The barrage of shock had turned skin to paste. “All?”

“You were friends?”

“We were, God, like family. We… Keelie and I shared patients, and we… we all… the girls, the girls are like sisters, and we-Matt.” She encirled him, rocked again. Said his name over and over.

“Can you think of anyone who wished them harm? Who wished anyone in the family harm?”

“No. No. No.”

“Did any of them mention being worried about anything? About being threatened or bothered by someone.”

“No. I can't think. No. Oh God, my baby.”

“Was either of them involved with someone, outside of the marriage?”

“I don't know what you… Oh.” She closed her eyes as her husband continued to weep on her shoulder. “No. They had a good marriage. They loved each other, enjoyed each other. Their children. Coyle. Oh my God. Nixie.”

“She's all right. She's safe.”

“How? How did she get away?”

“She'd gone downstairs for a drink. She wasn't in bed at the time of the murders. I don't believe she was seen.”

“She wasn't in bed,” Jenny said softly. “But my Linnie was. My baby was.” Tears flooded her cheeks. “I don't understand. I can't understand. We need to… Where is Linnie?”

“She's with the Medical Examiner. I'll arrange for you to be taken to see her, when you're ready.”

“I need to know, but I can't.” She turned her head so her shoulder rested on her husband's as his did on hers. “We need to be alone now.”

Eve dug a card out of her pocket, laid it on the coffee table. “Contact me when you're ready. I'll arrange the rest.”

She walked away from their grief, and she and Peabody rode down to the lobby in silence.

The law offices boasted a comfortable waiting area, divided by theme rather than walls into distinct parts. A child's corner, with a mini comp and a lot of bright toys, flowed into a section designed, Eve imagined, with the older child in mind. Mag vids, puzzles, trendy comp games. Across the room, adults could wait their turn in pastel chairs, and watch vids on parenting, sports, fashion, or gourmet cooking.

The receptionist was young, with a cheerful smile and a shrewd eye. She wore her streaked red and gold hair in what Eve assumed to be a stylish fringe of varying lengths.

“No appointment, but then cops don't usually need one.” She made them as cops before badges were shown, and angled her head. “What's up?”

“We need to speak to Rangle,” Eve said and pulled out her badge for form.

“Dave's not in yet. He in trouble?”

“When do you expect him?”

“He'll swing in any minute. Early bird. We don't open for business until nine.” She made a point to gesture to the clock. “Still nearly an hour shy.”

“That makes you an early bird, too.”

The woman smiled, toothily. “I like coming in early, when it's quiet. I get a lot done.”

“What do you do here?”

“Me, personally? Manage the office, assist. I'm a paralegal. What's up with Dave?”

“We'll wait for him.”

“Suit yourself. He's got an appointment at…” She turned to a data unit, tapped the screen with short, square-shaped nails painted gold like the streaks in her hair. “Nine-thirty. But he likes to get here, line up his ducks beforehand like me. Should be in soon.”

“Fine.” Because she wantedPeabody off her feet, Eve gestured her partner to the chairs, then leaned casually on the reception counter. “And you'd be?”

“Sade Tully.”

“Got an eye for cops, Sade?”

“Mother's on the job.”

“That so? Where?”

“ Trenton. She's a sergeant, city beat. My grandfather, too. And his daddy before him. Me, I broke tradition. Seriously, is Dave in trouble?”

“Not that I know of. Anybody else here, in the office?”

“Dave's assistant isn't due until ten. Health appointment. Receptionist generally clocks in about quarter to nine. Grant Swisher, Dave's partner, should be in pretty soon. Grant's between assistants, so I'm filling in that slot. We got a droid clerk, but I haven't activated it yet today. Law student comes in about noon-after class-today. Well, if you're going to hang, you want coffee?”