Obsession in Death

Jamie, she’d never thought of Jamie. He was a kid – no more than twenty. Not even twenty, she corrected, as she called up the contact. Feeney’s godson, a kind of Roarke protégé. A kid who wanted to be a cop. And his mother… not a friend, not an enemy. Just Jamie’s mother.

 

“Ms. Wojinski.” Eve felt a small flick of relief when the sleepy voice answered. “This is Eve Dallas. Listen to me carefully.”

 

She looked at Roarke, nodded as she spoke and Jamie’s mother responded. “Wait for the police,” she said again. “When they get there, have them contact me so I can verify before you open the door. Do you understand me, don’t open the door. The police are on the way.”

 

“I can hear sirens. I hear them.”

 

“Good. Stay on, okay? Stay on until they get there and I verify. Just hold a minute.

 

“They’re safe,” she said to Roarke.

 

“I have Jamie on the ’link. He’s with her, spending a couple days with her on his winter break.”

 

“Tell him if he opens a door, tries anything before I clear it, I’ll make sure he never gets a badge.”

 

Roarke’s eyebrows lifted. “He heard you. See to your mother, Jamie. That’s your job.”

 

Satisfied, Eve switched to her communicator to speak with the responding officers and clear them.

 

Three strikes, she thought, and you’re out.

 

 

 

 

 

20

 

Eve contacted Peabody, argued with her.

 

“There’s no need or point in you coming in for this. Nadine’s handled. Jamie and his mother have cops in the house.”

 

“Handled, my butt. I handled myself.”

 

“Shut up, Nadine, and get your famous butt moving. Your transport’s waiting.”

 

“I have things I need,” Nadine began, and continued to gather discs and notes into a bag that could hold a baby elephant.

 

She already had a suitcase the size of Montana packed and ready.

 

“If you have witnesses to interview,” Peabody complained from the ’link, “I should be there.”

 

“I’ve got it covered. If you want to be up half the night, work on the new parameters. Have your e-genius run a search and match using the refinements Roarke made. If anything else comes through, I’ll let you know.”

 

“But —”

 

“She’s gone, Peabody. We won’t take her down tonight. But contact hospitals – emergency treatment centers, walk-in clinics. Maybe she’s burned bad enough to need medicals. Maybe she’d risk it. Hit facilities in your own neighborhood first. Let’s play the angle she lives close to my old place. Any hits, I hear about it, otherwise, zip it. Tomorrow,” she added, and cut transmission.

 

She turned to one of the uniforms who was waiting. “You get something?”

 

“A couple of teenage girls, Lieutenant, two floors down. Bocco family, apartment seven-twelve. Girls are Savannah Bocco, Thea Rossi, both age sixteen. They rode up in the elevator with her.” He handed her a pair of discs in an evidence bag. “Security feed from the exterior and the elevator, sir. No hallway cams in this building.”

 

“Good. Secure this unit once Ms. Furst is the hell out of it. Expand the canvass to emergency treatment centers and clinics in the area. She’s burned, right hand and/or wrist. Try outlets that sell medical supplies – over-the-counter burn meds, pain meds.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Nadine!”

 

“I’m going, I’m going.” She’d changed into black skin pants, boots, sweater, had actually taken time to slap some gunk on her face and fuss with her hair.

 

Eve all but shoved her out of the apartment. “Make certain she’s secure,” she told the transport officers. “In and locked down.”

 

“I appreciate the hospitality,” Nadine said, “however rudely offered.”

 

“Get the hell out.”

 

She turned to Roarke. “I’m going to talk to the teenagers – God help us all. You can be Peabody, if you swear not to sulk.”

 

“I think I can mask my bruised feelings. She wants to help – and be in on the action,” he added as Eve stepped out.

 

“She is helping, and there’s not likely to be much action.”

 

He patted her back, called for the seventh floor in the elevator. “A bit more action than there would’ve been, don’t you think, if Nadine hadn’t opened the goddamn motherfucking door.”

 

Eve just leaned back against the wall a moment. “If the bitch had gotten a better angle through the gap, Nadine’s dead. That chain wouldn’t have stopped her. No hallway cams, apartments around her soundproofed. You could see the bolt on the chain was already compromised on the jamb. A few good kicks, it gives, and that’s that.”

 

“If,” Roarke repeated. “And if didn’t happen.”

 

“What did happen is Nadine didn’t think.” She stepped out on seven. “And okay, yeah, yeah, I can see how it went in her head. A routine, the producer, what struck as a standard e-mail from the job. And at the push, she wasn’t fatally stupid. But it’s the kind of daily action, the acting on auto, that proves this individual can get to anyone. Louise gets an emergency call, heads out. Mavis takes five in her dressing room. Reo gets a damn messengered packet from her boss, whatever.

 

“She’s revved up now, blocked up, needs the release, needs the win. She’ll take more chances.”

 

“Taking chances leads to making mistakes.”

 

“Yeah. I don’t want to catch her mistake when I’m standing over the body of a dead friend.” She pushed the buzzer on the Bocco apartment, held her badge up to the security peep.

 

The door opened a couple inches, hit the chain. Eve considered giving it a few kicks just to see how many it would take.

 

“Mr. Bocco? Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD, and civilian consultant. We’d like to speak with Savannah, and with Thea Rossi.”

 

“Could I see your badge again?”

 

“Sure.” Eve held it to the gap, figured if she’d been a crazed killer she could’ve stunned the man between the eyes in under three seconds.

 

“Sorry. We’re a little nervous.” He closed the door, released the chain, opened it again. A long-eared dog with short legs hobbled over to sniff at her boots, at Roarke’s, then wagged the entire back end of its body.

 

Charmed, Roarke crouched to give the dog a rub that had it quivering with joy.

 

“Officer Osgood told us you’d be coming to talk to the girls.” He stepped back, ushered them into a cheerfully disordered living area with a shining Christmas tree slowly revolving in front of the window.

 

“Go on, Tink, go lie down now.”

 

With a sigh, the dog hobbled to a purple pillow, groaned in what sounded like pleasure as it flopped down.

 

“She’s ancient, but still game. I’m Nick Bocco, Savannah’s father. Sorry, we’re still pretty tossed around from Christmas.” He shoved at a mop of brown hair, looked owlishly around the cheerfully messy living space. “And no school till the second – a day I have circled in red on every calendar. I’ve been mostly working at home this week, and that doesn’t matter at all.”

 

He stopped himself, scrubbed his hands over his face. “Sorry again, I’m a little shaken at the idea the girls were in the elevator with a murder suspect.”

 

“Did Officer Osgood say this individual is a murder suspect?”

 

“He didn’t have to. He showed me the sketch – like the one I’ve seen on screen off and on all day. It’s not just paranoia, leading me to the girls were in the elevator with the person the police are after for the two murders since Christmas.

 

“He said Nadine was okay?”

 

“She is,” Eve confirmed. “Do you know her?”

 

“Oh, no. I mean I watch her on screen. Never miss Now, and I catch her a lot on her reports. She’s in here a lot – virtually,” he added with a sheepish smile. “It starts to feel like you know her. Anyway, I’m glad she’s okay. Sorry one more time. Have a seat. You want some really bad coffee? Savannah did the marketing last, and whatever she picked up there is pretty awful, but it’ll be hot.”

 

“We’re fine. Where is Savannah?”

 

“In her room with Thea, probably on the ’link with Flo-lo. Florence Louise – the three of them are like this.” He linked his fingers together. “I’ll get them.”

 

“Her mother’s not home?”

 

“What? Oh, no, we’re… not together. She’s away for a few weeks with her… I don’t really know what he is. Doesn’t matter. It’s just me and Vanna – and Thea for a couple of days because she didn’t want to go on the little post-Christmas cruise with her parents. Anyway, I’ll get them. God, I’m nervous.”

 

He moved to the back of the apartment, took a short jog to the left, knocked on a door. “Vanna? You and Thea need to come out here now.”

 

“Dad! We’re jiving with Flo-lo on mega importanto!”

 

“Now, Savannah. For the police.”

 

The squeals clawed at the walls. Bocco rubbed his eyes, walked back to Eve and Roarke. “I opted out of the soundproofing on her bedroom. You want to be able to hear, in case they need you. But it’s a high price to pay. Hey, how about a Coke? That’s one thing Savannah got in prime on marketing day.”

 

“That’d be great,” Eve said, just to give him something to do.

 

The girls came out, holding hands, as Bocco stepped into the kitchen. She pegged Savannah as she had her father’s olive complexion, brown hair – though there were violet streaks throughout the girl’s – and his compact build.

 

Thea, at sixteen, had the body of a siren. Did they grow sirens’ bodies that young, Eve wondered, or had her parents allowed body enhancements?

 

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