J. Robb - Born In Death

“Ian,” Roarke murmured, “have a look here.” Roarke tapped an area on the third level with a fingertip.

“Blank space where there can’t be blank space. Cold room. Jeez, I must be slipping. It’s shielded against the sensors.”

“Can you get by them?” Eve demanded.

“This’ll take a few minutes,” Roarke told her.

“I’m not waiting. We’re on go – ” She broke off when her ’link beeped. “Reo. Tell me you got it.”

“I had to sell what’s left of my soul and my hot date went cold. You better bring in the goods, Dallas. Warrant coming through now.”

“Good work, Reo.”

“Tell me about it. You find the woman, you tag me. The minute.”

“Done. One more favor.”

“You’re racking them up.”

“Contact Lieutenant Jaye Smith. She’s MPU. Fill her in on this. I didn’t want to pull her in when the warrant was still hanging.”

“Oh, well, sure, happy to be your message droid. Anything else while I’m – ”

Eve clicked off. “We’re a go.”

“I’m not clear here yet.”

“Leave it,” Eve told Roarke. “Peabody, Trueheart, you’re in behind me and Baxter, straight up to the third level. You take that room. Roarke, McNab. You sweep the main level, then work up. Take down the security,” she ordered.

Though she could see irritation flicker over his face because he hadn’t finished the first task, Roarke picked up a sleek little jammer, climbed out of the car, and strolled down the block.

Eve wasn’t sure if he required the proximity to the target, or didn’t care to have a load of cops watch his method of shutting down a high-end security system in just under thirty-five seconds.

“Secondary system’s activated.” His voice was cool and breezy when she joined him. “I need to bypass the automated alarm, if you want the household unaware.”

“I do. How long have you got?”

“Another twelve seconds.”

She watched the time count down on a grid of the jammer, while a flashing series of others blurred by on another grid. They stopped, the jammer beeped. And the time showed three seconds to spare.

“Secondary coming up. And there we are.”

She signaled the others, then jogged across the quiet, snowy street. “Record on,” she murmured, then nodded to Roarke.

The recorders might have been activated, but she turned her body just enough to keep his hands out of their range as he crouched to begin work on the locks.

When it was done, she used hand signals to remind the team which direction each unit was to take. To Baxter she said, “I go low.”

“Suit yourself.”

He went through with her, weapons drawn. Behind them, Roarke and McNab peeled to the right.

“This is the police!” Eve shouted as she charged up the steps with Peabody and Trueheart behind. “We have a warrant to enter these premises, to search same, and to seize any items relating to the terms of the warrant. Go, go,” she ordered Peabody, then swung off the steps with Baxter on the second level.

She heard something crash below, and kept going.

Chase burst out of the room on the left, hastily tying the belt of a plaid robe.

“What is the meaning of this? This is outrageous.”

Eve held up the warrant. “This is America, and we love the outrageous. You will cooperate with the terms of this warrant, or be restrained and removed from the premises. I’m hoping you’re not feeling cooperative.”

“I’m ringing our solicitor, immediately.” Madeline’s robe was bright red, her pale hair loose. And without the carefully applied enhancements, Eve counted a good five years older. She stood, vibrating with rage, in the doorway beside her son.

Her lover.

“Help yourself. Detective Baxter will be happy to accompany you.”

“Detective Baxter can go to hell, and so can you. This is my home. This is my bedroom.” She gestured dramatically behind her. “No one enters without an invitation.”

“Invitation,” Eve said, holding up the warrant again. Then she reached behind and jiggled her restraints. “You want a new set of bracelets?”

Fury blotched her cheeks with red. “Win, say nothing. Do nothing. I’ll not only have your job before this night is done, Lieutenant, I’ll have your hide.” The skirts of the robe swirled out as she spun back into the bedroom.

“Got a flair, doesn’t she?” Eve said conversationally. “You always do what she says, Win? You a good boy and mind your mommy, even when you’re diddling her?”

“How dare you, you filthy-minded whore.”

“Call them as I see them. Did your mother tell you to torture Natalie Copperfield before you killed her, or was that your idea?”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Right, Mommy told you to be quiet. It’s okay. When we finish searching the house we’ll have everything we need. I know Tandy’s on the third floor. I’ve got two cops upstairs right now, getting her out of your cold room.”

She saw it in his eyes, so when he yanked the stunner out of his robe pocket she was ready. She kicked out, disarming him, then pivoted when he charged so the fist he struck out with glanced off her shoulder. The elbow she jabbed into his solar plexus doubled him up, but he used his forward motion to ram her like a bull. Adrenaline pumped into her as her back hit the wall, and his hands closed around her throat. When her knee came up, hard, between his legs, the air wheezed out of him so he deflated like a balloon.

“By not cooperating you made my night. Now, Winfield Chase, you’re under arrest for assaulting an officer.” She bent down to roll him onto his face, yank his arms behind his back, and slap on the restraints. “And believe me when I say that’s just the beginning.”

She looked up in time to see Madeline run out of the bedroom, her hands curled like claws, her face murderous. Even as Eve sprang up, Baxter leaped out of the doorway and took Madeline down with a flying tackle.

“Sorry, Dallas. She got away from me.”

“No problem.” She rolled her shoulder, watched Roarke and McNab come up the stairs.

“First level’s secure, Lieutenant,” McNab told her. “Three droids – one servant, two security. They’re down.”

“And so are these two. McNab, help Baxter keep them down. Roarke and I are going up.”

ON THE THIRD LEVEL A DROID IN A PALE GREEN lab coat was sprawled on the floor against an overturned chair.

“We had to take it down.” Peabody pulled her master out of a lock slot in a door designed to blend into the wall.

Trueheart crouched in front of a small comp unit. “The droid must have deactivated this when it heard us come in.” Trueheart shook his head. “I can’t reactivate.”

“I’ll have a go at the lock.” Roarke took some tools out of his coat pocket.

“Looks like a medical.” Eve gave the droid a light boot with her foot. “Portable birthing equipment, fetal monitor.” She lifted her chin toward a roll cart. “Warming tray. Got your towels, your scale, and so on. I saw this stuff at the birthing class. She’s in there.”

“Must have cams on her,” Peabody said. “Droid could sit out here, monitor her on-screen. Suspects?”

“Down. McNab and Baxter have them. Call this in, Peabody. I want the suspects taken in. Put an ambulance and OB team on alert. Roarke?”

“It’s coming. Complicated little bastard.”

“Peabody, have uniforms pick up a copy of the warrant on Cavendish. I want him brought in now. And contact Reo and Lieutenant Smith, give them the situation. I want a warrant on Bruberry, too. Let’s have a big party down at Central.”

“I’ll pick up the hats and streamers.”

“Nearly there,” Roarke mumbled. “Aye, you shagging bitch, I’ve got you now.”