J. Robb - Immortal in Death

"I like you, too." She waited a beat. "What's wrong with us?"

Cheered a little, she slung an arm around Peabody's sturdy shoulders. "Let's go get something to eat. Fitzgerald's not going anywhere tonight."

On that, Eve's instincts proved to be wrong.

The call woke her at a little before four A.M., out of a deep and thankfully dreamless sleep. Her eyes were gritty, her tongue thick from the wine she'd indulged in to be marginally sociable with Mavis and Leonardo. She managed a croak as she answered the 'link.

"Dallas. Christ, doesn't anyone ever sleep in this town?"

"I often ask myself the same question." The face and voice on the 'link were vaguely familiar. Eve struggled to focus, to roll through her memory discs.

"Doctor… hell, Ambrose?" It slid back, layer by layer. Ambrose, spindly female, mixed race, head of chemical rehab at the Midtown Rehabilitation Center for Substance Addiction. "You still there? Is Fitzgerald coming around?"

"Not exactly. Lieutenant, we have a problem here. Patient Fitzgerald is dead."

"Dead? What do you mean dead?"

"As in deceased," Ambrose said with a bland smile. "As a homicide lieutenant, I imagine you're familiar with the term."

"How, damn it? Did her nervous system give out, did she jump out a fucking window?"

"As near as we can determine, she overdosed herself. She managed to get her hands on the sample of Immortality we were using to determine the proper treatment for her. She took all of it, in combination with a few of the other goodies we have stashed here. I'm sorry, Lieutenant, she's gone. We can't bring her back. I'll fill you in on the details when you and your team arrive."

"Damn right you will," Eve snapped and broke transmission.

Eve viewed the body first, as if to ensure herself there hadn't been a horrible mistake. Jerry had been laid on the bed, her color-coded hospital gown draped to midthigh. Sky blue for addict, first stage treatment.

She was never going to get to stage two.

Her beauty was back, oddly eerie, in the bone-white face. The shadows were gone from under her eyes, the strain from around the mouth. Death was the ultimate calmer, after all. There were faint burn marks on her chest where the resuscitating team had worked on her, a light bruising on the back of her hand where the IV had pinched. Under the doctor's wary eye, Eve examined the body thoroughly, but found no signs of violence.

She'd died, Eve supposed, as happy as she would ever be.

"How?" Eve demanded shortly.

"The combination of Immortality and, as far as we can determine by what's missing, doses of morphine and synthetic Zeus. Autopsy will confirm."

"You keep Zeus here, in a rehab?" The idea had Eve scrubbing her hands over her face. "Jesus."

"For research and rehabilitation," Ambrose said tightly. "Subjects addicted need a slow, supervised withdrawal period."

"So where the hell was the supervision, Doctor?"

"Ms. Fitzgerald was sedated. She was not expected to regain full consciousness until eight A. M. My hypothesis would be that, as we don't fully understand the properties of Immortality as yet, what was left in her system counteracted the sedative."

"So she got up, marched herself down to your drug hold, and helped herself."

"Something of the kind." Eve could all but hear Ambrose's teeth grinding.

"What about security, the nursing staff? Did she turn herself invisible and walk right by them?"

"You can check with your own officer on duty about security, Lieutenant Dallas."

"Be sure I will, Dr. Ambrose."

Ambrose gnashed her teeth again, then sighed. "Listen, I don't want to hang the mess on your uniform, Lieutenant. We had a disruption here a few hours ago. One of our violent tendencies attacked his ward nurse, got out of his restraints. We had our hands full for a few minutes, and the uniform pitched in. If she hadn't, the ward nurse would very likely be standing at the Pearly Gates with Ms. Fitzgerald right now instead of dealing with a broken tibia and some cracked ribs."

"You've had a busy night, Doctor."

"Not one I want to repeat any time soon." She dragged her fingers through curly, rust-colored hair. "Listen, Lieutenant, this center has an excellent reputation. We help people. Losing one, this way, makes me feel every bit as shitty as you. She should have been asleep, damn it. And that uniform wasn't away from her post for more than fifteen minutes."

"Timing again." Eve looked back at Jerry and tried to shrug off the weight of guilt. "What about your security cameras?"

"We don't have any. Lieutenant, can you imagine how many media leaks we'd have if we had recordings of patients, some of whom are prominent citizens? We're bound by privacy laws here."

"Great, no security discs. Nobody sees her take her last walk. Where's the drug hold where she OD'd?"

"This wing, one level down."

"How the hell did she know that?"

"That, Lieutenant, I can't tell you. Any more than I can explain how she unkeyed the lock, not only on the door, but on the holds themselves. But she did. The night watch found her on his sweep. The door was open."

"Unlocked or open?"

"Open," Ambrose confirmed. "As were two holds. She was on the floor, dead as Caesar. We tried the usual resuscitations, of course, but it was more for form than from hope."

"I'll need to talk to everyone in this wing – patients as well as staff."

"Lieutenant – "

"Fuck privacy laws, Doctor. I'm overriding them. I want your night watch as well." Pity jangled Eve's nerves as she recovered the body. "Did anyone come in, try to see her? Did anyone call to check her condition?"

"Her ward nurse will have that information."

"Then let's start with her ward nurse. You round up the rest of them. Is there a room I can use for interview?"

"You can use my office, such as it is." Ambrose looked back at the body, hissed between her teeth. "Beautiful woman. Young, with fame and fortune at her fingertips. Drugs heal, Lieutenant. They extend life and the quality of it. They eradicate pain, soothe a troubled mind. I work hard to remember that when I see what else they can do. If you ask me, and you're not, she was headed here the first time she sipped that pretty blue juice."

"Yeah, but she got here a lot faster than she was supposed to."

Eve strode out of the room, spotted Peabody in the corridor. "Casto?"

"I contacted him. He's on his way."

"It's a goddamn mess, Peabody. Let's do what we can to mop it up. See that this room – Hey, you." She saw the officer she'd left on guard at the end of the hallway. Her finger pointed like an arrow. She could see that it hit its mark by the way the uniform winced before she blanked her face and started toward her commanding officer.

Eve blew off some steam giving the uniform a dressing down. She didn't have to know Eve would recommend no disciplinary action be taken. Let her sweat.

In the end, when she was sweating and pale, Eve studied the nasty bruising scrape on the officer's collarbone. "The VT give you that?"

"Sir, before I restrained him."

"Have it seen to, for Christ's sake. You're in a health center. And I want this door secured. You got that this time? Nobody in, nobody out."

"Yes, sir." She snapped to attention, looking, Eve thought, pathetically like a whipped puppy. Barely old enough to buy a beer at a street stall, Eve mused with a shake of her head.

"Stand your watch, Officer, until I order your relief."

She spun away, gesturing for Peabody to follow.

"You ever get that pissed off at me," Peabody said in her mild voice, "I'd prefer a bare-knuckled punch in the face to a tongue lashing."

"So noted. Casto, glad you decided to join us."

His shirt was rumpled, as if he'd tossed on the first thing that had come to hand. Eve knew the routine. Her own shirt looked as if it had been balled in someone's pocket for a week. "What the hell happened here?"