Page 131 of Devoted in Death

She ran them all, found two worked night shifts, and when contacted were indeed at work, on shift. Two more reportedly out of town, and on the twelfth and fifteenth floors respectively.

Low probability.

But for them, and the last two, she dragged in very unhappy supers to authorize entrance. And cleared them all.

“That’s it now.” Determined, Roarke took her arm, and pulled her toward the elevators he’d released once the unmarked was in place.

“They’re not in these buildings, which means you’ve made serious progress. You have the van, you have evidence which will put them away. You can’t knock on every bloody door left in this sector, at least not tonight.”

“Could do some. The missing-girl gambit’s holding.”

“Eve, if you were any paler I swear I’d be able to pass a hand through you. You need sleep, then you’ll do what comes next. It’s near three in the morning now. Whatever they’ve done to your victims tonight is done.”

She thought the same, so didn’t argue, but got into the all-terrain.

“It’s narrowed down more, a lot more. Compared to where we started it’s like a handful of blocks. I gotta see what Banner’s come up with, and Peabody. Vacants, missings, DBs.”

He let her talk it out, though her words had started to slur. He edged the heat up a bit, knowing how warm relaxed her. And when she started to droop, eased her seat back.

She was out before they reached Midtown.

She stirred when he lifted her out of the seat, muttered when he carried her to the door, then surfaced as he maneuvered to get the door open.

“What? Jesus, I went out.”

“Stay that way,” he advised and started up.

“No, put me down. God, I can’t have you carrying me around in front of cops.”

“I doubt there’s a single cop in our bedroom—until I get you in there.”

“I need to check in my office.”

“It’s half-three, Eve. Everyone’s in bed but us.”

“I need to check.”

He detoured, but didn’t set her down.

“I can walk.”

“No point in it when I’ve got you.”

He noted the lights remained on in her office, paused in the doorway.

Peabody and McNab flopped together like puppies in the sleep chair. Banner had stretched facedown on the floor, with Galahad’s limp body sprawled over his waist like a fat, furry belt.

“Christ, cops,” Roarke muttered, and gave in, set Eve on her feet.

“Take Banner,” she told Roarke, then walked over to poke Peabody’s shoulder.

“Not now.” Peabody rolled over. “We can do it in the morning.”

“Ick,” was Eve’s opinion, and gave her partner a firmer poke.

“Uh-uh, in the morning.” But her eyes blinked open, stared blindly at Eve. Then cleared. “What? You? Where?”

“Get McNab up, go to bed, and I don’t want to hear about the morning.”