23
Roarke bulled his way through Central as he’d bulled his way through downtown traffic, carving away the distance to Eve with single-minded focus.
He didn’t think his heart had beat since Eve’s face blinked off his ’link screen.
Barricades blocked the corridor outside Homicide, and inside those barricades cops swarmed. He’d have cut through them, every one of them, like a honed blade, but at Whitney’s command, they let him through.
“What’s the status?”
“She’s one of mine.” His face gray, Dawson rocked back and forth on his heels. “Lottie Roebuck. She’s one of mine.”
“Roebuck has an explosive vest, a dead man’s switch.” Whitney snapped out the words while Feeney, McNab, Callander worked on the eyes and ears, on the door locks. “She’s taken the entire division hostage.”
“How the hell did she get in here with explosives?” Roarke began, then cut himself off. “Never mind. Let me see the bloody locks.”
“We have to bypass the alert,” Feeney told him. “When they’re secured from inside, they’ll set off an alarm if we trigger them from out here. We can’t just cut through.”
“Reineke’s in the break room, feeding us data. Roebuck doesn’t know he’s in there.” Sweat ran down McNab’s face. “Dallas knows. He’s keeping us apprised while we work on this.”
“Apprise me,” Roarke demanded as he got to work.
“She’s got everybody facedown on the floor but Dallas. Dallas is keeping her talking, but he thinks she’s gearing up.”
“Reineke’s described the vest to the E and B team,” Feeney said quietly. “He managed to get a picture of it with his ’link – cracked the break-room door just enough for it. They said it could take out the whole room.”
“Then we’d better stop her.” Coating the hammering fear with calming ice, Roarke worked precisely. “I’m not losing my wife today. I need more shagging light here.”
“We won’t be able to rush her.” Feeney laid a hand on Roarke’s arm. “We get the lock down, we can’t rush her.”
“Eve will have thought of that.” She’d think, Roarke assured himself, step by careful step. “Does she have terms, this Roebuck?”
“She wants to die,” Mira said from behind him. “With Eve. She’ll see it as a kind of suicide pact between them. They could patch me through. I could try to negotiate, but I believe it would push her further and faster. It needs to stay between her and Eve.”
“Got it!” McNab swiped sweat off his brow. “Eyes and ears.”
Roarke glanced over at the monitor briefly, saw Eve on screen facing a woman who’d tried to make herself her twin. The hair, the eyes.
She didn’t come close, he thought, then forced himself to look away from the beat of his heart, and work to save her.
“She’s doing well,” Mira told them. “Staying calm, asking questions, using her name, keeping it personal.”
Roarke tuned it out, all of it. Just the sound of Eve’s voice – not the words, just the sound of her voice – was all he let in as he worked to lift the most important lock of his life.
“I can get us out of here, you and me,” Eve said. “You take me hostage – I’ll play along with that. Jet copter on the roof, we’re gone, anywhere you want to go. You and me, Lottie. It’s all we need, right? Then if it’s the only way to make it right, the only way we can really balance the scales, we do it at midnight. Symbolism’s important. We end at the stroke, and that’s how we begin again. Like you said.”
“There’s no place to go. It has to be here, that’s the symbol. This is our real home.”
“Being together’s what really matters, isn’t it? You and me.”
Keep saying it, Eve reminded herself. You and me. Us. We. And was rewarded by a faint, trembling smile.
“You’re not afraid to die?”
“I pick up a badge every day. You know how it is. But we have to do it right, Lottie. I’m not going to feel right about it if we take all these good cops with us. I can’t feel right about that.”
Even the faint smile vanished in a fresh flash of temper. “They can’t matter! Why don’t you see that? Her?” She swung toward Peabody, the hand on the switch trembling. “Why is she more than me?”
“She’s not.” Instinct, however foolish, had Eve shifting so she stood between Peabody and Lottie. “We’re partners now, you and me, Lottie, but hey, I trained her. I’ve got some pride in that, and she’s brought a lot of bad people to justice. We can’t forget that. We can’t forget justice, Lottie. It’s the heart of it, right? Bastwick, Ledo, they got what they deserved. Scales balanced. But this? This is going to weigh them down on the wrong side.”
“It’s not. You need to purge yourself of all this. Of the people holding us back. You don’t want to see it, but I’m going to show you. And when it’s done, you’ll thank me.”
“What if it doesn’t work? You’ve got to consider that. I’m just going to take off my coat. It’s getting hot. Think about it,” she continued, shrugging out of the coat, shifting to toss it aside and angling just a little closer as she did. “Odds are slim it won’t, I get that, but it’s a risk. You took one, I get that. Took a big one coming in here like this. Into a roomful of armed cops.”
“It had to be done.”
“I get it, but it was gutsy. And you’re in control of all of it. It’s not like any cop in the room could get off a stream – no room for that kind of break while you’re in charge. But if one of them could take the shot, he’d do it now. He’d take you down right now.”
She shifted to the balls of her feet, counting on Reineke.
He got off a stream, center mass. Before it hit, before Lottie’s body convulsed, Eve was in the air.
One chance, one chance only. For herself, for her partner, for every good cop in the room.
She grabbed Lottie’s wrist with her left hand, clamped like a vise. She thought, Roarke, and jabbed the thumb of her right hand down on Lottie’s thumb and the switch.
“Get out! Get out now. Get that fucking door open and get clear.”
“Bugger that,” Roarke said as he shoved the doors open.
“Couldn’t have said it better.” Baxter, closest, dropped down on his knees beside her. “Hold her steady, LT.”
“Fucking A.” Eve shut her eyes, bore down. “She’s jiggling under me, and my damn hand’s sweaty. If you’re going to risk getting blown up, get me off her. I’ve got the switch secure. Get me off her before she shakes me loose.”
“I’ve got you.” Roarke clamped a hand over hers, then rolled her. “I’ve got you,” he repeated as his heart beat again. “I’ll hold it now.”
“Bugger that.” Breathe, she ordered herself, just breathe. Hold it down, just hold that switch, and nobody was a dead man. “So you broke my clever code.”
“?‘Later, honey’? I should say.”
“We’re going to disarm this now, Lieutenant.”
Eve turned her head to study one of the boomer team. “Say hallelujah. Peabody, once this is disarmed, I want this crazy bitch cleared medically then tossed in a box. We have a lot to talk about.”
“Peabody’s a bit preoccupied,” Roarke replied, and she turned a bit more, saw her partner and the e-geek who loved her in a full body and lip lock.
“Oh, for God’s sake.”
“And we’re clear.” The head of E and B gave the signal. “You can release that, Lieutenant.”
“Be damn sure,” she said as cops cheered. Her hand, sandwiched between Lottie’s and Roarke’s, didn’t want to let go. She managed to unclamp one finger at a time.
Then found herself dragged to her knees to experience a full body and lip lock.
With relief surging through her she gave it a minute – maybe two – before she shoved at Roarke. “On duty.”
“Alive.”
He rested his forehead on hers. Murmured to her in Irish – words he’d translated for her before, and that would’ve mortified her if anyone in the room understood.
“Okay.” She clamped a hand on his a moment, held it tight. “Back at you.” Then she got to her feet, turned first to Reineke. “Nice shot, Detective.”
“Nice jump, boss. Ah hell.”
To her shock he threw his arms around her, lifted her to her toes in a giant bear hug.
“Okay, okay. Hey.”
“Just went back for a cup of christing coffee. Stuck back there, my family out here. I can’t do squat.”
“Going for christing coffee and keeping your head saved your family. So…” She gave him a punch in the shoulder. “Good work. Everybody… take a couple minutes. Settle. And if somebody would get me some christing coffee, I might hug them.”
Her knees felt too fluid – and God, she could use a chair.
But not yet.
“Get her out of our house,” she ordered with another glance at Lottie. “Have her examined and cleared. I want her in the box within the hour. I’m going to take her apart, piece by lunatic piece.”
“Happy New Year.” Peabody, eyes still damp, offered her a cup of coffee.
“Yeah. Hell.” Eve took the coffee, passed it off to Roarke. And hugged her partner.