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Chapter Four
Posted by
jlk
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14 October 2012
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Eve frowned at the text from Mira. It wasn’t completely unusual for the psychiatrist to text her. But to do so and ask that she meet her at four-thirty in the afternoon … She called Mira’s admin, who confirmed Mira had just left and was expecting to meet with Eve. Shrugging, Eve put on her leather jacket, a magical gift from Roarke, and headed out. Peabody’s desk was empty. She tried her partner’s link, got voice mail. “I’m heading for a meet with Mira. Be back in an hour.” She vaguely noticed some efforts at joking with her about booster drinks from her bullpen, then some cops on the elevator and glides doing the same, but Eve’s mind was working on how she could convince her husband to loosen his death grip on her so she could start being assigned murder cases again.
Eve thought it was high time everyone remembered she was a murder cop. It didn’t take a lot of physical energy to do homicide detecting. She usually didn’t have to chase the bad guy down, not like a beat cop having to chase a shoplifter. And if she did run into that situation, well, she’d make Peabody do the running. Maybe tonight after Nadine had left and she’d found out if those couches were going to be used for what Eve thought they were going to get used for, she’d talk with Roarke about it. He’d have to give in on the fact that she’d been good; she hadn’t complained once about the excessive babying and coddling. Mostly because she was still a little tired and occasionally weepy, but still. That had to add up to some leeway. And if it didn’t, then some latitude better be forthcoming from her husband. Or else.
The restaurant Mira had selected ran to healthy salads that claimed adding nuts and raisins made them nutritiously delicious. To ward off that unlikely pleasure, Eve stopped at a glide cart to order a soy dog. As she dug into her jeans pocket for credits, Eve did an automatic scan of her surroundings and spotted the Chief ME. Dr. Li Morris was also getting a very late lunch, his chosen glide cart across the street. She smiled, gave an upward tilt of her chin and a grin as he spotted her. And caught the blow on the side of her cheek rather than the back of her head, knocking her sideways.
It surprised her more than stunned, as Eve went down on one foot, swept out with her free leg and took out her assailant before she thought about it, and before she really processed the blow. The next man grabbed her shoulder, getting a good hold on the leather. Eve heard it rip as she flipped him over her shoulders and behind her. A third man was getting out of the black sedan that had vomited the other two, and he used the door to slam into Eve, knocking her onto her ass, her head connecting solidly with the wheel of the glide cart. This time, she saw stars.
Then Morris was joining in the party. Eve figured she had known him eight years or more, but she hadn’t known he was a fighter. And he fought good. Even as she tuned in to the surroundings including Mira’s voice, aware that she’d managed to give herself a good head rap, Eve watched Morris take down two of her assailants with business-like fists. Then he had her up in his arms and into the possible safety of what seemed to be an office building. “Not done” she started to warn him when all five of the men stormed into the lobby. She realized Mira was beside her and sprang to her feet to ensure her safety.
Eve forced herself to pull in her concentration, her alertness, seeing in her mind’s eye her stunner rolling into the street and being crushed under the wheel of a maxibus after it had gone flying from her hand when the car door had caught her like a box of bricks across the chest. Mira was in danger as was Morris. She bent down to lift her pants leg and release her clutch piece, angry at herself for not taking the first two out completely. An unconscious attacker didn’t get back up and threaten further harm, in this case her friends. Before Eve got her hand on her piece they were on her. She got an elbow into the nearest one’s temple and he went down, stayed down. The second one Morris took on. Bless her, Mira went after the one who was getting his arms around Eve’s waist and lifting her off her feet, with her purse. Whatever she had in the fashion accessory the man went down like a bag of wet sand, taking Eve down on top of him. She used the momentum to give her feet power and got both boot toes under the next guy’s chin. He went flying a good five feet backwards, slumped unmoving on the floor. Even as she was struggling to get free from the one who was clutching her waist, arms frozen immovably around her, Eve heard Peabody’s pink cowboy boots and McNab’s gel sneakers on the run, coming closer. Morris flew over her head, landing on Mira. Mira’s purse walloped Eve’s sore head as she dropped it when Morris squashed her. Some part of Eve was having a hard time not laughing hysterically at the comedy of it all. Slapstick, she remembered. This kind of falling down, being abused by over-sized purses was called slapstick.
Eve reached for McNab’s hands and he yanked her to her feet. But the man’s arms circling her gave out just then, and McNab must have been working out, because he had enough strength going to throw her up and over himself. She had an instant to think of Morris flying over her head thirty seconds ago, and then she was arrowing over McNab’s head. Morris had landed on Mira. Eve hit a plate glass window and sailed through onto the sidewalk. On her way down, she got the last guy by his hair and took him down with her.
++++++++++++++++++++++
“Dallas. Come on, Dallas. Open your eyes.” McNab’s gruff baritone sounded over her head.
Eve gave herself a few more seconds, sensing where he was at, then shot a hand up and got a good hold on his ponytail. “What the fuck did you do that for, McNab” she snarled, bringing his head down to her line of vision.
“Dallas, man, I’m sorry. I got over-excited, you know? And that guy really had a hold you. And you’re a bit on the light side lately. I’m sorry!” Worried green eyes stared into hers. “You ok?”
“No, I’m not ok, you goddamn freaking eyesore geek! I just went through a glass window,” Eve barked, giving his ponytail a good yank, then using it to lever herself up.
“Stay down, Dallas.” Morris’ calm voice floated over her head, his hands pressing her shoulders gently back. “You got a couple pieces of glass in you that need taken out. And a few cuts that are bleeding rather heavily.”
“Start pulling the rest of ‘em out,” Eve advised. Then she remembered. “Mira.” She surged up.
Morris pushed her back down, dark eyes holding hers gently amused. “She and that killer purse are just fine. I hear you like booster drinks.” He motioned to McNab. “Put some pressure on her thigh, Detective. Right here. Harder.”
“That’s like the twentieth time I’ve heard about those damn things in fifteen minutes. What’s the deal?” Eve gripped Morris’ hand as she began to feel several areas of liquid warmth on her legs, blood pooling under her jeans before seeping out. She didn’t smack him when he brought her hand to his cheek, rubbing against her whitening knuckles. The man knew she was beginning to feel the pain.
“You were recorded saying how much you liked the boosters Roarke’s been making you drink,” Peabody’s voice chimed in from down near Eve’s feet. “Went viral. I bet you he’ll sell a million of them now. You’re gonna need a medic to get some of these pieces of glass out, Dallas.”
“More pressure, Detective.” Morris’ order was quiet, far away.
“It’s McNab’s fault,” Eve stated, grimly holding onto consciousness, yanking on her partner’s cohab’s ponytail again. He yelped. “Peabody, is this damn scene secure?”
“Yes, Sir. I had Baxter and Trueheart take Dr. Mira back to Cop Central. They’ll get her statement. You ready to give yours, Dallas?” Peabody’s dark eyes met hers as Morris slid his free hand between her shoulders, lifting her slightly.
Just enough for the MT to get a clear shot at her neck with a pressure syringe.
Since they were all waiting for her to go apeshit, Eve perversely chose to be calm. “Sure. Put your recorder on, McNab,” she lectured patiently. “You’re playing secondary right now.” The painkiller or tranq, hell, maybe both, was already beginning to cloud her mind. Strange colors swirled over the faces of her friends. “If I hadn’ta met Roarke, I woulda done ya, Li,” she told Morris, her words slurring.
“Just what I wanted to hear,” Roarke stated humorlessly as he arrived, replacing Peabody opposite McNab as they grouped over her body. “Lieutenant, I shouldn’t have let you out of the house.” His eyes ran over her as Eve lay amongst the glass shards. He took her hand from Morris, kissed her palm.
“Artery’s nicked,” an MT reported. Eve felt her pants being ripped up the leg. “Hospital. Now!”
Roarke scooped her up and she was on a gurney, in the medivan.
“Peabody says you’ll sell a million boosters because I can’t keep my mouth shut,” Eve paraphrased, mumbling the words out, trying without success to open her eyes so she could see Roarke’s beautiful face. He was so damn pretty. She loved looking at him. In the shower. In the gym. In the pool. In bed. During breakfast … and now she couldn’t seem to get her eyes open.
“Maybe a few more than that.” He had her hand again. She could feel his warm lips on her knuckles. “Hold on for me, aghra.” And Eve slipped under.
Eve thought it was high time everyone remembered she was a murder cop. It didn’t take a lot of physical energy to do homicide detecting. She usually didn’t have to chase the bad guy down, not like a beat cop having to chase a shoplifter. And if she did run into that situation, well, she’d make Peabody do the running. Maybe tonight after Nadine had left and she’d found out if those couches were going to be used for what Eve thought they were going to get used for, she’d talk with Roarke about it. He’d have to give in on the fact that she’d been good; she hadn’t complained once about the excessive babying and coddling. Mostly because she was still a little tired and occasionally weepy, but still. That had to add up to some leeway. And if it didn’t, then some latitude better be forthcoming from her husband. Or else.
The restaurant Mira had selected ran to healthy salads that claimed adding nuts and raisins made them nutritiously delicious. To ward off that unlikely pleasure, Eve stopped at a glide cart to order a soy dog. As she dug into her jeans pocket for credits, Eve did an automatic scan of her surroundings and spotted the Chief ME. Dr. Li Morris was also getting a very late lunch, his chosen glide cart across the street. She smiled, gave an upward tilt of her chin and a grin as he spotted her. And caught the blow on the side of her cheek rather than the back of her head, knocking her sideways.
It surprised her more than stunned, as Eve went down on one foot, swept out with her free leg and took out her assailant before she thought about it, and before she really processed the blow. The next man grabbed her shoulder, getting a good hold on the leather. Eve heard it rip as she flipped him over her shoulders and behind her. A third man was getting out of the black sedan that had vomited the other two, and he used the door to slam into Eve, knocking her onto her ass, her head connecting solidly with the wheel of the glide cart. This time, she saw stars.
Then Morris was joining in the party. Eve figured she had known him eight years or more, but she hadn’t known he was a fighter. And he fought good. Even as she tuned in to the surroundings including Mira’s voice, aware that she’d managed to give herself a good head rap, Eve watched Morris take down two of her assailants with business-like fists. Then he had her up in his arms and into the possible safety of what seemed to be an office building. “Not done” she started to warn him when all five of the men stormed into the lobby. She realized Mira was beside her and sprang to her feet to ensure her safety.
Eve forced herself to pull in her concentration, her alertness, seeing in her mind’s eye her stunner rolling into the street and being crushed under the wheel of a maxibus after it had gone flying from her hand when the car door had caught her like a box of bricks across the chest. Mira was in danger as was Morris. She bent down to lift her pants leg and release her clutch piece, angry at herself for not taking the first two out completely. An unconscious attacker didn’t get back up and threaten further harm, in this case her friends. Before Eve got her hand on her piece they were on her. She got an elbow into the nearest one’s temple and he went down, stayed down. The second one Morris took on. Bless her, Mira went after the one who was getting his arms around Eve’s waist and lifting her off her feet, with her purse. Whatever she had in the fashion accessory the man went down like a bag of wet sand, taking Eve down on top of him. She used the momentum to give her feet power and got both boot toes under the next guy’s chin. He went flying a good five feet backwards, slumped unmoving on the floor. Even as she was struggling to get free from the one who was clutching her waist, arms frozen immovably around her, Eve heard Peabody’s pink cowboy boots and McNab’s gel sneakers on the run, coming closer. Morris flew over her head, landing on Mira. Mira’s purse walloped Eve’s sore head as she dropped it when Morris squashed her. Some part of Eve was having a hard time not laughing hysterically at the comedy of it all. Slapstick, she remembered. This kind of falling down, being abused by over-sized purses was called slapstick.
Eve reached for McNab’s hands and he yanked her to her feet. But the man’s arms circling her gave out just then, and McNab must have been working out, because he had enough strength going to throw her up and over himself. She had an instant to think of Morris flying over her head thirty seconds ago, and then she was arrowing over McNab’s head. Morris had landed on Mira. Eve hit a plate glass window and sailed through onto the sidewalk. On her way down, she got the last guy by his hair and took him down with her.
++++++++++++++++++++++
“Dallas. Come on, Dallas. Open your eyes.” McNab’s gruff baritone sounded over her head.
Eve gave herself a few more seconds, sensing where he was at, then shot a hand up and got a good hold on his ponytail. “What the fuck did you do that for, McNab” she snarled, bringing his head down to her line of vision.
“Dallas, man, I’m sorry. I got over-excited, you know? And that guy really had a hold you. And you’re a bit on the light side lately. I’m sorry!” Worried green eyes stared into hers. “You ok?”
“No, I’m not ok, you goddamn freaking eyesore geek! I just went through a glass window,” Eve barked, giving his ponytail a good yank, then using it to lever herself up.
“Stay down, Dallas.” Morris’ calm voice floated over her head, his hands pressing her shoulders gently back. “You got a couple pieces of glass in you that need taken out. And a few cuts that are bleeding rather heavily.”
“Start pulling the rest of ‘em out,” Eve advised. Then she remembered. “Mira.” She surged up.
Morris pushed her back down, dark eyes holding hers gently amused. “She and that killer purse are just fine. I hear you like booster drinks.” He motioned to McNab. “Put some pressure on her thigh, Detective. Right here. Harder.”
“That’s like the twentieth time I’ve heard about those damn things in fifteen minutes. What’s the deal?” Eve gripped Morris’ hand as she began to feel several areas of liquid warmth on her legs, blood pooling under her jeans before seeping out. She didn’t smack him when he brought her hand to his cheek, rubbing against her whitening knuckles. The man knew she was beginning to feel the pain.
“You were recorded saying how much you liked the boosters Roarke’s been making you drink,” Peabody’s voice chimed in from down near Eve’s feet. “Went viral. I bet you he’ll sell a million of them now. You’re gonna need a medic to get some of these pieces of glass out, Dallas.”
“More pressure, Detective.” Morris’ order was quiet, far away.
“It’s McNab’s fault,” Eve stated, grimly holding onto consciousness, yanking on her partner’s cohab’s ponytail again. He yelped. “Peabody, is this damn scene secure?”
“Yes, Sir. I had Baxter and Trueheart take Dr. Mira back to Cop Central. They’ll get her statement. You ready to give yours, Dallas?” Peabody’s dark eyes met hers as Morris slid his free hand between her shoulders, lifting her slightly.
Just enough for the MT to get a clear shot at her neck with a pressure syringe.
Since they were all waiting for her to go apeshit, Eve perversely chose to be calm. “Sure. Put your recorder on, McNab,” she lectured patiently. “You’re playing secondary right now.” The painkiller or tranq, hell, maybe both, was already beginning to cloud her mind. Strange colors swirled over the faces of her friends. “If I hadn’ta met Roarke, I woulda done ya, Li,” she told Morris, her words slurring.
“Just what I wanted to hear,” Roarke stated humorlessly as he arrived, replacing Peabody opposite McNab as they grouped over her body. “Lieutenant, I shouldn’t have let you out of the house.” His eyes ran over her as Eve lay amongst the glass shards. He took her hand from Morris, kissed her palm.
“Artery’s nicked,” an MT reported. Eve felt her pants being ripped up the leg. “Hospital. Now!”
Roarke scooped her up and she was on a gurney, in the medivan.
“Peabody says you’ll sell a million boosters because I can’t keep my mouth shut,” Eve paraphrased, mumbling the words out, trying without success to open her eyes so she could see Roarke’s beautiful face. He was so damn pretty. She loved looking at him. In the shower. In the gym. In the pool. In bed. During breakfast … and now she couldn’t seem to get her eyes open.
“Maybe a few more than that.” He had her hand again. She could feel his warm lips on her knuckles. “Hold on for me, aghra.” And Eve slipped under.
