Page 18 of Devoted in Death

“Carving the heart in him,” Morris murmured, “like lovers carve a heart and their initials into a tree.”

“Two of them?” Peabody hissed out a breath. “A couple?”

“It’s a theory. And it’s Mira territory. I need to run this by her, but it’s an interesting theory. They strip him, use a ball gag—a SMB tool, they strip him, burn his balls. But no sexual assault or activity? Because they have each other for that.”

“If this is valid, it would make what they did to him—”

“Foreplay,” Eve finished when Morris couldn’t.

Morris laid a hand on the shoulder of his dead friend. “I never ask, and shouldn’t now. But find them.”

No, he never asked, Eve thought. And she shouldn’t answer as she felt compelled to. “I will. You can bank on it.”

•••

He’s sad again.” Peabody waited until they were outside. “The vic made him think of Coltraine, so he’s sad again.”

“He’ll get through it.” But Eve considered calling the priest, remembering Morris had found both comfort and friendship with Chale López. “We work the case, we get it done, and he’ll get through it faster.”

“Do you want me to see if I can schedule a meeting with Mira?”

“Yeah. We’re going into Central first. I want to get the book and board going, stew on this couple theory a little. Tell her I’ll send her a report.”

“Got it. You think this was random—I mean the choice of vic.”

“Can’t say. Right now we don’t even know where he was attacked, where he was snatched. We need to talk to friends and associates,” she continued as she drove through thickening snowfall. “Stick with the E’s first—we don’t throw out one theory for another. But start contacting them and arranging for them to come to us at Central. That way if Mira has a window, I can slip through it.”

Peabody fell silent and into work, then paused, frowned out the window at the snow. “I think it was a couple.”

“Because you think I think it was?”

“That made me see the maybe, but my first reaction was no. Just no, that’s too sick. Then—I’m going to say it before you do—we’ve seen sicker. A lot sicker. But it was the classic romance symbol of the heart that made me say no, then made me see the yes. They signed him—or one did for the other—not like a piece of art, but in a symbol of their twisted idea of love.”

Eve waited a beat. “Why does that piss you off?”

“Because I believe in symbols of love, goddamn it. There’s this big-ass tree back home. My dad carved his and Mom’s initials in it before any of us were born. And when we started coming along he built this circular bench all the way around it—gave it plenty of space between to grow more. And it has. It was so they could sit there, watching us play, and looking out over the gardens. And when each of us got to be about six, he helped us each build our own birdhouse, so there’s all these birdhouses hanging in the limbs, and wind chimes my mother made, and... It’s special, it’s really special, and it started when he carved that heart and their initials inside it. And...”

“Don’t blubber, Peabody,” Eve warned, hearing it coming.

“I’m not going to blubber. It’s just that when we went there for Christmas my parents took us both out there, to the tree, and my dad handed McNab his knife, and told him he should carve our initials in the tree. Because they know I love him, and he loves me, and they believe it’s the real, long-haul thing. It meant so much to me, just so much, because the tree, it’s special. It matters. Symbols matter, and they shouldn’t be used like this. That’s all.”

Eve said nothing until she’d pulled into the garage at Central, parked in her spot. “People defile and despoil what’s good and pure and special every single fucking day. We see it, we know it, we deal with it.”

“I know, but—”

“Shut up. You think about this. When some sick fuck uses what’s good and pure and special in his sick-fuck way, it just makes the symbol stronger and more important. It doesn’t lessen it one damn bit, unless you let it.”

Because she had blubbered a little, Peabody scrubbed her hands over her face. “You’re right. You’re so completely right. I just let it get to me.”

“It was nice,” Eve said as they got out of the car. “What your parents did, it was nice.”

She glanced over at the quick click of heels, saw Mira cutting toward the elevator from her own space.

Eve thought the color of the coat that skimmed to the knees of Dr. Charlotte Mira’s excellent legs might be called aquamarine. The heels were certainly emerald as was the hint of the dress under the coat. A sassy beret of rich sapphire blue perched on her smooth bob of mink-colored hair. She carried a purse of the same color as the beret and a shoulder-strap briefcase of supple bronze leather.

“Well, good morning. Are you just coming in, or... Peabody, are you all right?”

Instinctively, Peabody scrubbed at her face again. “Oh yeah. I just had a moment, that’s all. And I just tagged your admin to see if you could squeeze Dallas in for a consult.”