Page 64 of Random in Death

“She’s on four.”

“You want the stairs,” Roarke concluded.

She did, but…

“I’ll risk the moving cage.”

It smelled like Thai food—spicy Thai food. She concluded somebody had gotten a very recent delivery or brought home takeaway.

“You’ll be Peabody, right? You know what I mean.”

“I do, and I will.”

He took her hand, squeezed it. She squeezed back.

“This is hard for you, too. And you’ve done back-to-backs.”

She stepped out.

“Four-oh-four.”

At the door, she pressed the buzzer.

After midnight, she thought. Probably sleeping.

She waited, considered buzzing again. Then saw the shadow move over the Judas hole in the door.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Dillon. Tisha Dillon?”

“Yes.”

Eve held up her badge. “Lieutenant Dallas, with consultant. NYPSD.”

Even as she finished identifying herself, she heard the rattle of the security chain, the thud of locks.

Tisha yanked open the door.

Her skin, a few shades darker than her daughter’s, was beautifully clear and smooth. She’d passed on the bone structure, the shape of the eyes, the build.

Now those eyes held fear.

“Arlie.”

“May we come in, Ms. Dillon?”

“It’s Arlie. I had a pain in my heart, a terrible pain in my heart. I—I went to bed early, and this pain woke me.”

She stepped back, not so much to let them in as to step away.

“Something happened to Arlie.”

As Roarke closed the door quietly behind them, Eve looked into a mother’s terrified eyes.

“Yes, ma’am. I regret to inform you your daughter’s dead.”

“No.” Using both hands, she covered her mouth, just shook her head.

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