J. Robb - Purity in Death

"Yeah, yeah, CS rep, Price, investigating officer DS Dwier. Click, click, click."

"There's a-"

"No talking," she ordered.

"Touche," he retorted, and sat back to watch her work.

"Kid ends up at the health center this time. Sodomized, facial bruising, sprained wrist. Tox report… got himself Jazzed again, and chased it with alcohol. Got some body piercing now. Cock and nipple ornaments. Dwier catches it again. But look here, Price tagged him, specifically. Something going on between them."

She pulled out her memo book, began to take notes as she scanned data. "Doctor determines rape-Stanford Quillens. We'll see if he pops up again. But they don't shake Fitzhugh's name out of the kid for twenty-four hours. Doesn't want to talk about it. Why do they think you want to talk about it? Gang up on him at home the next day. Price, Dwier, the parents, rape counselor, who's this? Marianna Wilcox. Should've gotten a male counselor. He doesn't want to spill this to a female. Are they just stupid? Computer, copy text of victim interview to my home unit."

But she read it through from where she stood. It gave her a sour taste in the mouth, a greasy feeling in the gut. So many of the questions were familiar. The same had been asked of her once.

WHO DID THIS TO YOU?

WE WANT TO HELP YOU, BUT YOU NEED TO TELL US WHAT HAPPENED.

YOU'LL FEEL BETTER ONCE YOU GET IT OUT.

"Bullshit, bullshit, you don't feel better. Sometimes you never feel better. Why don't they say it like it is? You've been fucked over, kid, and we're real sorry we have to fuck you over again. Tell us how it was, and don't spare the details, so we can write it all up and make it real all over again."

"Eve."

She shook her head fiercely. "They've got good intentions. Most of them anyway. But they don'tknow. "

"This boy isn't like you." He was standing behind her now, laid his hands on her shoulders and began to rub. "He's troubled, and looking for trouble. I know about that. Surely he got more than he deserved in that area, but he isn't like you."

She calmed, leaned back against him. "Not like you either. You were smarter, meaner, and you weren't gay."

"No arguing with that." He kissed the top of her head. "His confusion over his sexuality is likely the cause for most of his behavior and the consequences of it."

"That and his parents. You got Donald here, eight years military service. Marines. Once a marine, always a marine. Mom takes the professional mother route. They put you in private schools, three in five years. Pull you out into home schooling two months before the incident with Fitzhugh. He's got a kid brother here. Three years younger. No problem there, at least that's showing up on personal data. But they yank him into home schooling, too. Taking no chances."

"You did note the father's profession?"

"Yeah, computer scientist. Click, click." She turned away to get her coffee, remembered it was wine. Frowning a little, she settled for it.

"Devin rolls on Fitzhugh, claims he was picked up at a club after he snuck out of the house. Admits he showed fake ID, admits he was a little buzzed, and that Fitzhugh says how he's having a party at his place. He goes with him. Most of that's probably solid, but then it gets smokey. He claims Fitzhugh got him stoned, but the tox level's too low for the way he plays it. He was zonked, didn't know what was going on. Fitzhugh got him into the playroom, got him in restraints. He tried to get away, but Fitzhugh overpowered him, knocked him around, then raped him."

"It wouldn't be the first time. Wolves hunt sheep. It's their nature."

"But it didn't go down like that here. Dwier had to know it didn't go down just like that. Maybe it was rape, kid was a minor so consensual or not, Fitzhugh's a pig. But he didn't knock Devin around. The father did. You look at Fitzhugh's sheet. He never beat on his victims. He didn't use force. He used persuasion, bribery, threats. Trying to make the case with force was one of the reasons they lost him."

"So you read this as Dwier, probably along with the Dukes and Price, tried to build their case out of straw, and the wolf blew it down."

She sat on the console. "Lies, half-truths, and lousy police work. I guess that's straw. I'll tell you how it went down. Kid sneaks out of the house. Probably he's done it dozens of time. They try to cage him in, but he's not having it. He's not his goddamn father. He's not his angel-face baby shithead brother. He heads to a club that caters to same-sex orientation. He's not looking for a girl. Fitzhugh's trolling and smells fresh meat. Buys the kid a drink, maybe offers him some illegals. Come up to my place, there's more where that came from. Kid keeps the nice, steady buzz going, and Fitzhugh does what Fitzhugh does. Buzz is wearing off."

"It's no prettier a picture painted your way."

"No prettier," Eve agreed. "But it's the right picture. Kid's fourteen. He's angry, he's confused, he's ashamed.He goes home, sneaks back in. But he's busted. He smells of the alcohol and the sex, and the father loses his temper. Grabs him by the wrist, slaps him. Tears, shouts, recriminations. Probably some name-calling the father regretted after. Take him to the health center, order him to say the minor injuries were a result of the sexual assault. He's caused the family enough trouble, damn it, and he's going to do what he's told."

"And in the end," Roarke continued, "it fell apart. Fitzhugh walked, because among other things, the others were too busy protecting their image."

"Yeah, which makes me feel better about going over to their place tomorrow and questioning the family. They won't be the only ones. Let's find the others."

"I've set up the search already, adding in George's file." He smiled at her, moved in, nudging her knees apart so he could fit his body between them. "It'll mark blocked sealeds, and I've input the series of commands to bypass the block, open the seal."

"Busy fingers."

"And they've life in them yet." He slid them under her shirt. "It'll take a bit of time to finish tasking. Just, I'd say, enough time."

"I'm on duty."

"Me, too." He eased in and found, with his mouth, the spot just under her jawline he liked best. "Why don't you give me an order, Lieutenant?" His fingers skimmed over her breasts, her sides, and around her back to dance along her spine.

The thrill rushed after them. She knew what he was doing-washing away the shadows of the picture they'd just painted. Bringing up the strong, clear colors of their own.

"Cut that out." She angled her head so his lips could trail up. "In a minute."

"That's pushing even my speed and agility, but we'll start with a minute." He caught her earlobe between his teeth. "And see how it goes."

Her brain was starting to fog up, her body starting to rev. "God, you're good at this."

"Is that going into my official file as a…" His mouth found hers, sank in. "… expert consultant, civilian?"

"I'll keep it in my personal records." Her breath caught. How the hell had he gotten her shirt off so fast? "This is… we can't do this on a command console."

"I think we could." He'd already unhooked her trousers. "But it does lack a little something. Hitch on," he said, and gave her hips a boost until her legs were wrapped around his waist.

"Minute's gotta be up," she whispered, but couldn't resist nibbling at his throat.

"Let's see if we can make time stop."

He opened a wall panel. A bed slid out. When he tumbled her to the mattress, she kept her legs and arms hooked around him and used the momentum to roll on top of him.

"It's going to be fast," she warned him.

"I can live with that."

She tore open his shirt, ran her hands in one hard sweep over his chest, then lowered to scrape her teeth over flesh.