J. Robb - Survivor in Death

“She's not my mom.”

When tears glimmered, Kevin scooted over and put an arm around her. “It's okay. She can be your mom, too, if you want.”

“I want my own mom.”

“She got dead.”

Nixie dropped her head to her drawn-up knees. “They won't let me go back to my house. They won't let me go to school. And I don't know where Virginia is, exactly.”

“We have a big yard, and we have a puppy. Sometimes he pees on the floor. It's pretty funny.”

She sighed, rested her cheek on her knees. “I want to ask Dallas if I have to go to Virginia.” She swiped at her cheeks, rose, and used the house scanner. “Where is Dallas?”

Dallas is in Roarke's office.

“You have to keep this.” Carefully, she unpinned the homer from her shirt, pinned it on Kevin's. “It's how Summerset knows where I am. I just want to talk to Dallas and nobody else, so you have to stay here and play games until I get back.”

“Okay. When you come back, we can look Virginia up on a map, then you can see.”

“Maybe.”

She knew the house, or at least the parts of it Summerset had shown her. To avoid the parlor, she took the elevator up a floor, then dashed down the corridor, and used the steps.

Part of her wanted to run away. But where would she go? She didn't want to be alone. She knew kids were sometimes. Coyle had told her there were places like Sidewalk City where kids nobody wanted lived in boxes and had to beg for food. She didn't want to live in a box, but it wasn't right, it wasn't fair that they were going to send her away. No one even asked.

Creeping past a door, she paused to listen.

She heard nothing inside, so eased around to look. It was Dallas 's office, and no one was there.

She crept to the next door.

“Gonna nail those sons of bitches. Look at the tenant list, two blocks from the Brenegan murder scene, and we've got a fucking revolving door.”

There was a sound in Dallas 's voice, Nixie thought. Kind of mean, and kind of excited, too. Like she'd heard one of the bigger kids sound at free-time in school when he talked about punching another kid.

“Two of those names are known aliases for Cassandra disciples. And one of them's a face sculptor-a dead one. Bet your excellent ass he's the one who did the work on Kirkendall and Clinton. The other's off planet doing life. I'm going to have to go squeeze him, and I hate going off planet.”

“We get lucky here, you won't have to. Every property or company I find is one away from pinning their base. Just give us some room here, Lieutenant.”

“Right, right.”

Nixie heard footsteps, crouched.

“And stop pacing about. It's annoying. Why don't you leave me to this for a half hour, go downstairs-or at the very least go hound someone.”

“I sent my team home. You're what's left for me to hound.”

“Just my lucky day.”

There was a beeping, an oath that would have gotten Nixie grounded for a month if she'd so much as thought it.

“ Dallas.”

Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. Compromised police seal, main front entrance, Swisher murder scene.

“Goddamn kids.”

Patrol dispatched. Acknowledge you have been informed of compromise.

“Acknowledged. Have the patrol hold at scene. Have officers in light armor as precautionary measure. I want to check it out myself. ETA, ten minutes.”

Acknowledged. Seal requires replacement. Dispatch out.

“If there's a patrol heading there, it seems unnecessary for you to go as well.”

“I chased a bunch of kids away earlier. Should've kicked some butt, but I didn't want to chance another chase. If they're inside, I want to correct that error in judgment, personally. If they're nearby, I'm going to take a few minutes of my time to round them up, and kick said butt.”

“I'll go with you, then.”

“Jesus, Roarke, it's a kid butt-kicking detail. I can handle it.” There was a long pause, a hiss of breath. “Okay, okay, no unnecessary risks. I'll catch Baxter, take him along. I need you to stay on this and coordinate with Peabody once she gets to Central.”

“Wear your vest.”

“Oh Christ!” There was a sharp thud, as if something had been kicked. “Yes, mommy.”

“And later when I take it off of you, you'll be calling me something entirely different.”

“Ha-ha. Ten minutes there, ten back, ten to kick teenage butt. Back in thirty.”

In the hall, Nixie streaked away. With her heart drumming, she raced down the stairs, found an elevator, and ordered it to take her to the ground-floor library.

There was an outside door there, and she knew which car Dallas drove.

Eve caught Baxter on the stairs. “I need you to ride with me. Seal's compromised at the Swisher house. I chased a bunch of teenagers away from it this afternoon. Looks like they came back. Trueheart, take the vehicle. I'll stick your partner in a cab when we're done slapping around a bunch of kids.” She tossed Baxter a vest. “Suit up. I take no chances.”

He started to take off his jacket.

“Upstairs. Jesus, you think I want to see what you refer to as your manly chest?” She took a small remote out of her pocket, tapped in a code.

“What's that?”

She felt the heat rise up the back of her neck. “It's a remote, brings my ride around on auto.”

“Sweet. Let me-”

She stuck it back in her pocket. “Just suit up, Baxter. I'd like to get this annoying little detail accomplished so I can get back to work.”

She took enough time to signal Mavis out of the parlor. “Listen, I've got to go out for a few, and I might be pretty jammed up when I get back. Can you keep everybody happy?”

“It's what I do best. Hey, maybe I'll get everybody down to the pool before we eat. That chilly with you?”

“It's great.” She tried to envision Mavis cavorting in the water with Elizabeth and Mira. “Ah… But wear a suit, okay?”

Outside, Nixie dashed behind a tree when she heard the engine. She watched, breath quick and short as Dallas 's car streamed out of the garage and toward the front of the house. She watched it stop, heard locks click.

It was wrong. She shouldn't do it. But she wanted to go home. Even for a little while. Before they sent her away, before they made her have another mom and dad.

She took one last glance toward the house, then ran for the car and crawled onto the floor of the backseat. She pulled the door shut only a moment before the door of the house opened. And she lay there, eyes squeezed shut.

“Some smooth ride you scored this time, Dallas.”

Baxter. He was nice, funny. He wouldn't be too mad if they found her.

“Don't play with my controls. When we're done with this, I need you to hook up with Peabody, keep pushing the property angle. We're going to find them Upper West. Shit, they could be a fucking block away.”

“There goes the neighborhood. We scattering for the night because of the IAB hound?”

“Webster's okay-but if I've got the team officially on the clock, and working out of my home, it's a gray area. Politicians grumbling, and they don't like gray unless they're painting it. We got dead cops, we got injured cops, we're poking into other cops' cases-one of them closed with a guy doing cage time for it. And I'm not shutting it down fast enough to suit them. I'm not going to give them a reason to pull me off.”

“Taking the kid into your place opened you up to it.”

“I know it.”

“It was the right thing, Dallas. The right thing for her. Kid didn't just need protection. She needed… comfort.”

“She needs me to close this thing, and I can't if I get jammed up with bullshit. So we straddle the line, and Webster will keep the brass off our ass until we do. There's the black-and-white. Let's get this done.”