Page 67 of Devoted in Death

“And hello to you, too. Both remains will be exhumed within the hour. I should have them by eighteen hundred.”

All pissiness vanished. “That’s fast. Maybe I owe you a drink for that, too.”

“I’ll take it. I’ve arranged to start the exam this evening with Morris. Dr. Mira will consult via holo, if necessary, and come into my house in the morning.”

“Okay. How about I just buy you a bottle?”

“Drinks,” DeWinter said, “and conversation, Lieutenant. It’s time. I’ll keep you updated.”

“I’ll do the same. It’s appreciated. Hell, I’ve got another incoming. Later.”

She clicked off, took the next. “Commander, I’m about to send you an update.”

“Before you do, Banner is fully cleared by his chief. This is not officially part of the federal investigation, however, I want every inch of all asses covered. Make that update in full detail, Lieutenant, and copy Tibble.”

Eve nodded. Asses covered completely with their own chief in the mix. “Yes, sir. Briefly? We may have caught a break.” She ran through quickly what she’d write in more detail on Jansen.

“To expedite I requested the transpo from Roarke. The detectives are already en route.”

“Include the request for compensation in the report.”

“He won’t take it, Commander.”

“Put it in. Roarke is free to donate said transportation, but through channels. I want all appropriate paperwork.”

“Yes, sir.”

She clicked off, figured she’d have to see to the bulk of said paperwork as, in Roarke’s place, it would bug the shit out of her.

She thought, yet again: Coffee, text Roarke. This time she nearly made it to the AutoChef before footsteps headed her way.

“Sorry, LT.”

She might’ve snarled at Baxter, but he looked pale, heavy-eyed.

“What?”

“Wanted you to know we’re back, can take some of the grunt work.”

“Okay, there’s plenty of it. Sit.” She got two coffees. “What did you catch?”

“Caught and closed, open and shut. Christ.” He took the coffee, stared at it. “You know, you think it can’t get to you anymore. You’ve seen it all, seen as bad as it gets. But you never have. Guy’s supposed to pick his kids up for his week. Divorced deal. Fourteen-year-old girl, eight-year-old boy. Guy’s been out of work for a while, got pushy with the ex a few times. Nothing major, mostly verbal shit. Yelling, arguing. She answers the door today while the kids are getting their stuff. And he smashes her, face-first, with a sledgehammer. Then he goes for the kids. Just goes at them. You could see how they tried to get away, how the girl used her body to cover her brother.”

Baxter stared into his coffee, shook himself, drank it. “He pulverized that little girl, Dallas. Like she was a thing, and not his own kid. The boy, they said he might make it. Legs are smashed, one of his arms, but his sister took the worst. When the man thought he was done with them, he went back and finished the wife.”

He took a slow drink of coffee. “Neighbors heard some of it, called it in, came running. He just walked out, walked out into the street into traffic. Driver who hit him tried to stop—she had a baby in the car. They’re okay. Just shaken up. The impact knocked him into another oncoming, and that one didn’t have time to try to stop.”

“He’s dead.”

“I wish he wasn’t.” Baxter said it viciously. “I wish to Christ we could’ve peeled him off the pavement and put him in a cage, run a loop of those kids in that cage for the rest of his motherfucking life. His own kids, Dallas. His daughter’s brains splattered all over the wall, the floor. For what?”

“We’re never going to know the answers, Baxter, and we’re never going to have seen the worst. There’s always worse than that waiting to happen. And if it doesn’t get to us, if we don’t feel it, then it’s time to turn in our papers. Where’s Trueheart?”

“I told him to go home, told him to take some personal. But I know he’s going to hang around the hospital awhile longer. The boy—his grandparents are there, and he’s got more family, so that’s something. He’s got the exam tomorrow, so I told him to try to put it away, for now, focus in. Maybe we stop the next one before he kills his kids. Get his shield, and maybe the next time, we get there before the brains are all over the wall.”

“You should go home.”

“Can’t do it.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Give me a job, will you, Loo? Any damn thing.”

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