Page 65 of Bonded in Death

“Good. I’ll get back to you.”

She used the interoffice. “Peabody. Now!”

Her partner came on a run. “I don’t have much yet—”

“Later. Contact DeWinter. I need her to stand by.”

“She was going to look at the injuries on Rossi, but—”

“I want those, too. I want it all nailed down. But I’m going to send her cremated remains. I need DNA, and as fast as she can get it.”

“Whose remains?”

“That’s what I need to know. They’re supposed to be Potter’s. They’re not going to be because he’s alive and killing in New York.”

Once again, Peabody’s jaw dropped. “What? How?”

“Read the end of the report I just sent. I’ve got to get to Mira. Get DeWinter on deck.”

“But—”

She waved Peabody off, and rushed out of her office.

Mira would forgive her if she arrived late. But Mira’s admin would make her pay for it.

Chapter Nine

She arrived with forty-five seconds to spare.

The dragon at Mira’s gate turned from her comp screen to give Eve a long, cool look.

“Did you lose anyone in the Urbans?”

The admin blinked, frowned. “I did. A brother.”

“I’m consulting with Dr. Mira over a case that goes back to the Urbans. Not here, in Europe, but—”

“It doesn’t matter where.” She tapped her earpiece. “Lieutenant Dallas is here. Yes, I will. Go right in.”

Mira sat at her desk. The department’s head shrink, top profiler, and all-around smart woman wore a silky suit in what Eve thought they called turquoise. Her rich brown hair fell in soft curls, a new style. Eve spotted little coral drops at her ears that matched the trio of strands around her neck.

With her soft blue eyes still on her screen, she lifted a hand.

“I’m reading your report a second time. It’s fascinating, and tragic. What a horrible loss, in a horrible way, for Summerset.”

“Yeah. This dredges it all up again, but…”

“No choice. And to be betrayed in this way by a kind of brother.” She turned in her chair, looked at Eve. “A man you believe may still be alive.”

“I take out the ‘may.’ It’s what clicks for me.”

“I understand why. And ask why did he wait so long?”

“I’ll ask him when I find him. I figure maybe he didn’t find someone corrupt enough to help him. Maybe it took him that long to figure out how to get out. The warden, who’s a pain in the ass, says he viewed the body, signed off, ordered the cremation and burial of the ashes.”

“You doubt that?”

“Not really. He’s a CYA type. But—you’re a medical doctor—aren’t there ways to simulate death? Especially to a lay person, and one who probably didn’t look too close.”

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