Page 114 of Random in Death

“An ocean of wits.” Tired, visibly fading, Peabody rubbed her eyes. “And a piss-trickle who saw enough to follow up.”

“This time yesterday, we didn’t have that. Or a survivor. Anybody needs a ride, we can pull in a couple cruisers.”

“I’ve got a car waiting.” Roarke held up a hand and a burly all-terrain slid up along the curb. “The driver can make the rounds for you.”

“Sweet.” Baxter gave Trueheart a pat on the back. “Let’s get you home, young man.”

“We’re heading downtown. You’d be the first stop. Pops.”

“Getting a sassy mouth on him. You hear that?” On a wide smile, Baxter squared his shoulders, puffed out his chest. “Makes me proud. Tomorrow, LT. Thanks for the lift, Roarke.”

“Come on, She-Body. You’re asleep on your feet.”

“Pretty much. Thanks. Night.”

“Appreciate that. Cruisers would’ve got them there, but this gives them a chance to unwind together.”

“And after a long day for all. Off duty now, are you, Lieutenant?”

“As much as I ever am.”

“And after, you said.”

“Not in front of the crime scene.”

She walked down the sidewalk with him toward the car.

“This’ll do.”

On the sidewalk, just after one in the morning, on a hot, sticky summer night, she wrapped her arms around him. She kissed him long, slow, deep. Pressing in more when she felt his hand fist on the back of her jacket.

“All that,” he murmured, “for arranging a viewing?”

“No, all that for thinking of it, for knowing how much it’ll mean, how much it’ll push the ugly of what happened away. Then arranging it.”

She drew him back, kissed him again.

“For that.”

“She looked so fragile, yet under that, so strong.” Bringing Eve’s hands to his lips, he kissed them. “I’ve seen you look the same.”

“Not tonight.” She got in the car, stretched out her legs. “I’m tired. I’m damn tired, but I’ve got a buzz. Because she lived, he ran, and we’re closer.”

“Mistakes, as you said before. He made them.”

“He won’t sleep well tonight. He’ll go over and over it. He’ll watch the media reports hoping he got enough in her.”

“Wouldn’t he know he didn’t?”

“Yeah, but he’d hope. Maybe she had a bad reaction to what he did get in her. Maybe the MTs didn’t get there fast enough. Maybe. Hope. Sweat.”

Settling back, she looked over at him. “He didn’t make a mistake. Impossible. Too smart, too prepared. He got away clean, didn’t he? Sure he did. Nobody got a good look at him. Wig, shades, trench.

“But he’s sweating on it, going over and over his steps. He won’t sleep well tonight, but I will.”

In fact, she thought, she could drift right off now.

“Are we still on for that weekend on the island as soon as?”