J. Robb - Ceremony In Death

"Christ, nighttime breaking and entering, illegal search and seizure." Frustrated, Eve dragged both hands through her hair. "What the hell was he thinking? He had to know that anything he found would get tossed out in court. He'd never nail them this way."

"I have a feeling he wasn't worried about court, Eve. He wanted justice."

"And now he's dead, isn't he? And so's Alice. Where's the rest?"

Roarke scrolled to the last entry.

Security's too tight on the building, couldn't get through it. I've been off the streets too damn long. I may have to tag someone to help me on this after all. I'm going to see that witch pays if it's the last thing I do.

"That's all on this – that entry was logged on the night before he died. There may be more, under a different code."

So, he hadn't made her pay, Eve thought. And he hadn't had time to get help. Not enough time, she thought again with twin surges of relief and sorrow. The entries went a long way toward clearing both Frank and Feeney.

"But you don't think so. You don't think there's anything else."

"No, I don't. There's the timing, of course. And he wasn't that clever with electronics," Roarke explained. "It was child's play to find this. Still, we'll look. It'll take some time to break through if there's anything there. And it'll have to be later. I have several meetings this morning."

She turned to him. Odd, she realized, she'd forgotten for a moment he wasn't working with her. His business and the direction of it was in a much different sphere from hers. "So many billions, so little time."

"How true. But I should be able to fiddle a bit more this evening."

She knew he hadn't so much as glanced at the stock reports or taken the morning calls that never failed to come in daily. "I'm taking up a lot of your time."

"You are, indeed." He came around the console, leaned back against it. "And the payment will be your time, Lieutenant. A day or two away when we can both manage it." Then his smile faded. He took her hand, ran his thumb over the carving on her wedding ring. "Eve, I don't like to interfere with your work, but I'll ask you to be particularly careful in this matter."

"A good cop's always careful."

"No," Roarke said, looking into her eyes, "she's not. She's courageous, she's smart, she's driven, but she's not always careful."

"Don't worry, I've dealt with worse than Selina Cross." She kissed him lightly. "I've got to go in, check on some reports. I'll try to let you know if I'm going to be late."

"Do that," he murmured, and watched her go.

She was wrong, he mused. He doubted very much if she'd ever dealt with worse than Selina Cross. And he had no intention of letting her deal with it alone. Moving to the 'link, Roarke called his assistant and arranged to have all his off-planet and out-of-town trips for the next month canceled.

He intended to stay very close to home. And his wife.

– =O=-***-=O=-

"No drugs," Eve stated as she looked over the toxicology report on Alice. "No alcohol. She wasn't under the influence. But you heard her talking to someone who wasn't there, and she runs out into the path of an oncoming cab. She's worked herself up into a state of terror, then was triggered by the chanting on the phone. They knew how to get to her, how to manipulate her."

"It's not illegal to chant over a 'link."

"No." Eve considered. "But is it illegal to threaten to harm over a public transmitter."

"That's reaching," Peabody returned. "And it's only a misdemeanor."

"It's a start. If we manage to tie the transmission to Selina Cross, we can hassle her. In any case, I think it's time we met. How about a little trip to Hell, Peabody?"

"I've been dying to go."

"Who isn't?" But before she could rise, Feeney burst into her office. His eyes were shadowed, his face unshaven.

"Why are you primary on Alice's case? A traffic accident. Why the hell is a homicide lieutenant handling a traffic fatality?"

"Feeney – "

"She was my goddaughter. You didn't even call me. I heard it on the goddamn news."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. Sit down, Feeney."

He jerked away when she touched his arm. "I don't need to sit down. I want answers, Dallas. I want some fucking answers."

"Peabody," Eve murmured, and waited until her aide had gone out and closed the door. "I am sorry, Feeney, I didn't know you were her godfather. I spoke to her mother and her brother, and simply assumed they would let the rest of the family know."

"Brenda's under sedation," Feeney tossed out. "What the hell do you expect? She lost her father and her daughter within days of each other. Jamie's only sixteen. By the time he called a doctor and saw to his mother, got a hold of Sally, I'd already heard it on-screen. Jesus, Jesus, she was just a kid."

He turned away, pulled at his hair. "I used to give her piggyback rides, sneak her candy."

This was what it was like to lose someone you loved, she thought. And was grateful she loved so few. "Please sit down, Feeney. You shouldn't have come in today."

"I said I don't need to sit down." His voice leveled as he turned back to study her. "I want an answer, Dallas. Why are you on Alice's accident?"

She couldn't afford to hesitate, couldn't afford not to lie. "Peabody was a witness," she began, grateful she could give him that much. "She was on a free evening, and she'd been to a club. She saw the accident. It shook her, Feeney, and she called me. It was knee-jerk, I guess. I couldn't be sure what had happened, so I told her to relay to Dispatch, to secure the scene, and I responded. Since I had, and I had all the data, I notified next of kin. I figured it would be easier on the family if I handled it." She moved her shoulders, bitterly ashamed at using old friends. "I thought it was the least I could do, for Frank."

He never took his eyes off her face. "Is that all of it?"

"What else is there? Listen, I just got the tox report. She wasn't using, Feeney. She wasn't drunk. Maybe she was still upset about Frank, or something else. I don't know. Could be she didn't even see the damn cab. It was a lousy night, fog, rain."

"The bastard was speeding, wasn't he?"

"No." She couldn't give him anyone to blame, couldn't offer even that prickly comfort. "He was within the limit. His record's clean, and so was the on-site drug and alcohol. Feeney, she bolted out in front of him, and there was nothing he could do. I want you to understand that. I talked with the driver myself, and I investigated the scene. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't anyone's."

It had to be someone's, he thought. He couldn't lose two people back to back for no reason. "I want to talk to Peabody."

"Give her a little time, will you?" Layers of guilt added onto the burden she already carried. "It really wrecked her. I'd really like to keep her focused on something else until she settles with it."

He drew a deep breath, shuddered it out. Beneath his tearing grief was gratitude that someone he trusted would care for his godchild. "You'll close it then, personally? And give me all the data?"

"I'll close it, Feeney. I promise you."

He nodded, rubbed his hands over his face. "Okay. I'm sorry I jumped you."

"It's all right. It doesn't matter." She hesitated, then put her hand on his arm, squeezed lightly. "Go home, Feeney. You don't want to be here today."

"I guess I will." He put a hand on the door. "She was a sweetheart, Dallas," he said quietly. "My God, I don't want to go to another funeral."

When he left, Eve sank into her chair. Misery and guilt and anger twisted around her throat like barbs. She rose again, grabbed her bag. She was, she told herself, in the perfect mood to meet Selina Cross.

– =O=-***-=O=-

"How do you want to play it?" Peabody asked as they pulled up in front of an elegant old building downtown.