Page 149 of Obsession in Death

“Come on, Lottie, you said you knew how it worked. I’ve got to say things like that. I didn’t want them to take me off the case, right? Now we’ve got to figure out a way to get you out of here, get you somewhere safe.”

“It’s too late for that.”

“It doesn’t have to be. We can figure it out together. I mean, Jesus, look at us. Who’s smarter than us?”

“I’m the smart one.”

“That’s right.”

“Not pretty enough, not sweet enough, not happy enough. Just not enough, ever, for anybody. I’m enough now. Why wasn’t it enough for you?”

Eve wished to God she had Mira in her ear, telling her what to say, how to play it. But she only had herself.

“You didn’t give me a chance. I didn’t know about you, Lottie. I knew you were the best at the work, sure. Really smart. I depended on you, your work, your smarts. But I didn’t know you felt the way you did. I didn’t know you wanted to be my friend the way I wanted to be yours.”

“You’re lying.”

“What’s the point in lying? We’re past all that. You need to tell me what you want, let me try to get it for you, like you got me what I wanted.”

“I thought I could wait until midnight. It’s symbolic. But it’s too long. I need to show you who we are. Not just how we look now. That’s symbolic, too. I thought, if I did what you wanted, what you needed, you’d see, you’d know. But you didn’t. You treated me like I was just one of the faces on the board, one of the names in the murder book.”

“I had to find you.” Six feet, Eve gauged. Just six feet between her and the switch. “We couldn’t talk until I found you.”

“It felt so good to help you. It made me happy, really happy. But that was a lie, too. There’s only one way to make it right. When we die together we’ll finally be partners, be family. Be a unit.”

“Like your mother and your sister.”

Lottie’s face went rigid. “Don’t talk about them! They’re dead.”

“It’s hard, losing family.”

“They never cared about me. I was nothing. They only cared about each other. They died together so they’ll always be together. I’ll never be. But with you I could be somebody. I could be part of something important. It’ll be fast. I don’t want to hurt you. Even though you hurt me.”

“I need to know some things first. That’s fair.” Sweat ran down Eve’s back. She wasn’t going to talk this one down, she could see that. Stall. Just stall a little longer. “Justice and respect, Lottie. We owe each other that.”

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.”