Down the Rabbit Hole

“Tell me about it.”


“Are those soy chips? Can I have some soy chips?”

Eve gave her the bag as they got into the elevator. “Don’t you have a headache?”

“No, I . . .” Peabody’s entire face winced. “Ow.”

“Here we are.” Gently, Roarke slipped the pill between her lips and offered her the bottle of water he’d had in his pocket.

“Okay, thanks. He’s so pretty,” she said to Eve.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Mine, too. Sooo pretty. But my head hurts and I’m starving. I’m not supposed to be harsh about my body image, so I’m eating these chips.”

“Take her up to the crib,” Eve advised. “Louise can take a look at her up there. If she’s clear, take her on home. Good job all around, McNab.”

“Thanks.”

Too tired for the glides, Eve rode all the way to Homicide, gave her partner a last look, and got off so McNab could continue to the crib.

“I need to put all this together, then take on the Hatter and his crazy crew. I don’t need Louise.”

“I have some lines.” He kept hold of her hand as they walked. “And one of them is you’ll get checked by a doctor before you finish this. If you argue I’d be forced to mention to your division that you giggled.”

“I did not. Shit. I did. I half remember. Fine, fine. But I want coffee, and lots of it. And that’s my line.”

“Agreed.”

She decided it was just as well she’d made the deal, as both Charles and Louise were waiting in her office.

“Let me look at you. Sit.”

“Coffee.”

Roarke nudged her into her chair and went to the AutoChef while Louise opened her medical bag. She took Eve’s wrist in her hand. “Pulse is strong and regular. Follow this light with your eyes only.”

Eve rolled them first, then obeyed.

“Peabody?” Charles asked.

“Coming around. McNab took her up to the crib. We’re fine.”

But Louise still took out a bunch of tools that made Eve scowl. She poked, prodded, scanned, measured. Then nodded.

“You are fine.” She took Eve’s hand again. “Thank you. Thank you for myself, for Charles, for Henry.”

“I haven’t finished it yet.”

“But you will. He’s staying with us for a while—Henry. We can go home and tell him you have the person responsible. It’ll help. I’ll let you get to it. I want to see Peabody.”

Before they left, Charles leaned over, kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for everything, Lieutenant Sugar.”

“It’s the job.”

She blew out a breath when they left. “I probably need you to fill in some blanks spots. When he turned on the light show, I must have been disoriented enough to turn into that mist, just enough. But I had my stunner on him. I remember that.”

“You did. Callendar dealt with the other man—the little one—and McNab pulled Peabody out of the mist. You’d knocked her back—I saw that as I came in—but she stumbled into it again. I found the controls, shut down the program, and . . . restrained the suspect. I’m assuming you took care of the woman who was laid out on the floor, sporting a hell of a bruise on her face.”

“Yeah, and yeah, okay, I got it. Nice assist, pal. I need IDs on all of them.”

“No ID on record for the Hatter. The woman is Willow Bateman—a few minor bumps prior to 2054 when she lived in New Orleans, then off the grid.”

“I’m guessing that’s when she hooked up, one way or the other, with . . . Okay, the Hatter works.”

“The other man is Maurice Xavier. A number of bumps there, and some time in a cage for aggravated assault. He, too, drops off the grid, three years ago.”

“Same deal, most likely. I’m going to have the head guy brought up. I think the other two were heavily under the influence, so I’ll wait on them. You’re going to hang, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Figured. Let me set this up so I can box him in, then shut him down.”

“Looking forward to it,” Roarke said. “I’ll take myself up to EDD, find the money, and help you close the door.”