Page 126 of Obsession in Death

“I’m on my way. I’m sending in the closest units. Don’t open the door, Nadine, until I clear them. Understood?”

“I understood the first time. It’s why I’m a little hurt and not dead. Maybe you could hurry. Can you hurry? I think I’m going to be sick now.”

“We’re out the door. Roarke’s driving. Talk to me. Where are you hurt?”

She couldn’t quite draw in air. Her chest hurt, felt as if something very heavy, very jagged was pressing into it. Something greasy seemed to roll and roil in her belly.

Reaction, she told herself. Just reaction.

“Ah, my arm, my leg. Flesh wounds.” She gave a quick laugh that pitched too high and scared her. “Oh boy, is that shock? I think I’m in shock, and I can’t get a full breath in. I think I need to pass out now. She had your eyes.”

“What?”

“Your eyes. Sorry. I really have to faint.”

So clutching the ’link, she did just that.

•••

Eve leaped out of the car before Roarke stopped in front of Nadine’s building. She pointed at the black-and-whites already double-parked. “Do that,” she told Roarke, and raced to the building.

One swipe of her master and she was through. Though she’d have preferred the stairs, the elevator would be faster. She jumped into it, ordered Nadine’s floor.

Another swipe and she was in the apartment, where Nadine sat in a chair the color of crushed rose petals clutching a glass of water and flanked by uniforms.

She offered Eve a shaky smile. “I wasn’t out that long. You were fast.”

“MTs?”

Even as Nadine shook her head, one of the uniforms spoke up. “Ms. Furst doesn’t want medical attention. She’s lucid, Lieutenant, and there’s no sign of serious injury.”

“Describe her.” Eve stared hard at Nadine’s ghost-pale face, over-wide eyes. She’d give the no medical attention a minute or two—she knew what it was to need to avoid just that.

But then...

Nadine breathed deep. “Dark complexion, dark brown hair—short, just the tips of it showing under this big hat with earflaps. Dark hat, dark coat. I’d just studied the latest sketches, and she didn’t match—not really. She had a pronounced overbite, and... the nose was off.

“And her eyes, Dallas.” She had to stop, to drink because somehow the water helped keep her head from floating away. “They’re the same color as yours. Like custom-made eye dye.

“I... I don’t think she was five-ten. Seemed shorter—taller than me, shorter than you. Smaller all around than the earlier descriptions. Peacoat,” she remembered. “She wore a dark peacoat, and a dark scarf, the hat had flaps and a bill.”

“Hear that?” Eve said to the uniforms. “Canvass, now. Start knocking on doors, and get whoever’s in charge to get me the security feed from tonight. Push it!”

She moved over to Nadine, crouched, studied her friend’s face. Still pale, maybe not as glassy. But her description had been lucid enough Eve decided to nix the idea of tagging MTs against Nadine’s wishes.

“Why are you wearing cats on your pants?”

“They’re pajama bottoms and they’re kittens. They’re cozy.”

“They’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah.” Nadine reached out, gripped Eve’s hand. Breathed out. “That’s what I like about them.”

“Okay. Tell me what happened. Exactly.”

“I was working—researching, reading correspondence. I— Roarke.”

When he came in, he went straight to her, leaned down, cupped her chin in his hand. After a moment, he nodded, brushed his lips to her forehead. “Why don’t I get you a soother?”

---