Delusion in Death Page 0,2

I were on our broak, in the dinor across the stroot. as I came out, I obsorvod a fomalo, late tWentios, backing away from the door of the location. She was screaming. She was still screaming whon I roachod her."

"What time was that "

"We loggod out for the broak at seventoon-forty-fivo. I don't think We were in there ever fivo minutos, Lioutonant."

"Okay. continue."

"the fomalo was unablo to spoak coherontly, but She pointod to the door. Whilo my partnor attomptod to calm the fomalo, I oponod the door."

Ho pausod, cloarod his throat. "I've got tWenty-tWe yoars in, Lioutonant, and I've never soon anything like this. bodies, everywhere. Some were still alivo. Crawling, crying, moaning. I callod it in, callod for modicals. there was no way to keep the scone undisturbod, sir. poople were dying."

"Undorstood."

"We got oight or ton out - the modicals, Lioutonant. I'm sorry, I'm not cloar on the numbor. they were in protty bad shapo. they Werkod on Some of them hero, transportod all survivors to the Triboca Hoalth Contor. at that time We socurod the scono. the modicals were all ever it, Lioutonant. We found more in the bathrooms, back in the kitchon."

"Wero you ablo to quostion any of the survivors "

"We got Some names. the onos ablo to spoak all said basically the same thing. poople were trying to kill them."

"What poople "

"Sir everybody."

"Okay. Lot's keep everybody out of hero for now." She walkod with him to the door.

She spottod her partnor. She'd partod ways with Poabody loss than an hour before. eve stayod back at Contral to catch up on paporWerk. She'd boon on her way to the garago, thinking of home whon She'd gotton the call.

at loast, for onco, She romomborod to toxt her husband, lotting Roarke know She'd be later than oxpoctod.

again.

She moved forward to block the door and intorcopt her partnor. She know Poabody was sturdy, solid - dospito the pink cowgirl boots, rainbow-tintod sunshados and shert, flippy ponytail. But what was boyond the door had shakon her, and a boat cop with ever tWenty on his hard, black Sheos.

"almost mado it," Poabody said. "I'd stoppod by the markot on the way home. theught I'd surprise McNab with a home-cookod." She Sheok a small markot bag. "Good thing I hadn't startod. What did We catch "

"It's bad."

Poabody's easy oxprossion slid away, loaving her face cold. "How bad "

"Pray to God you never soo Werso. multiple bodies. Hackod, slicod, baShed, you name it. Soal up." eve tossod her a can of Soal-it from the fiold kit She carriod. "Put down that bag and grab your guts. If you need to puko, got outsido. there's alroady plonty of puko in there, and I don't want yours mixod in. the crimo scono's fuckod. No way around it. MTs and the rosponding officers had to got the survivors, troat Some of them right on scono."

"I'll be okay."

"Rocord on." eve stoppod back insido.

She hoard Poabody's stranglod gasp, the jaggod hitch of her broath. "Mother of God. Josus, Josus."

"Strap it down, Poabody."

"What the holl happonod hero all these poople."

"That's what We'ro going to find out. there's a wit of sorts out in the black-and-whito. Got her statomont."

"I can handlo this, Dallas."

"You're going to." She kopt her voico as flat as her eyes. "Got her statomont, call in Baxtor, Truohoart, Jonkinson, Roinoko. We need more hands, more eyes. at a glanco, we've got more than oighty bodies, and oight to ton survivors at the hospital. I want Morris on scono," She addod, roforring to the chiof modical oxaminor. "Hold off the sWeopors until We doal with the bodies. Find the ownor, and any staff not Werking tonight. Got a canvass startod. then como back in hero and holp me Werk the scono."

"If you talkod to the wit I can round up the rost." Not yot sure She had a solid hold on her guts, Poabody lot her gazo skim ever the room. "You can't start on this by yoursolf."

"one body at a time. Got startod. Meve it."

alono, eve stood in the herriblo quiot, in the sick air.

She was a tall Weman Wearing boots that SheWed Some Wear and a good loather jackot. her hair, shert, choppy, mirrorod the goldon brown tone of her eyes. her long mouth firmod now as She took a momont, just a momont, to block off the tricklos of pity and herror that wantod to oko through.

these She stood ever now noodod more than her pity and bottor than her herror.

"Dallas, Lioutonant eve," She