17

 

 

He sat. The red splotches stained his face again, and his eyes had reddened more.

Eve took a document from the file, the blueprint of the school, pushed it toward him. “This is part of her mission. You can see where she’s marked egresses, weak spots. You’d have taught her how.”

“No.”

“Mother, stepfather, brother. They came first. The hate, the rage, it goes deeper there. Then she’d be free of them, and she’d target the principal, the counselor, and the students she felt had wronged her or insulted her or were against her. You taught her how to hone those slights into crimes, you gave her the excuse to kill.”

“Lies.”

“You know better, but hold on to that if it helps you get through.

You’re looking rough, Mackie. I can authorize another medically approved hit if you need it to continue.”

“I don’t need anything from you, you lying cunt.”

“Okay then. Let’s go back to this.” She shoved a couple of Zach’s photos closer. “She killed his puppy, and she means to kill him. He’s in protective custody, for now. You know that can’t last forever. And she’ll wait, she’ll wait as long as it takes unless we stop her, and she’ll put a strike through his brain. He shares her blood, they share a mother. He could’ve been yours, and she’ll wait as long as it takes.”

“She’s got no reason.”

“She’s got every reason.” Eve slammed a fist on the table. “He took from her. Didn’t you help her justify using the skills you taught her to put down anybody who took from her? Some guy’s driving

down the street on a rainy day, and a woman runs out in front of him. He tries to stop, tries to swerve, but it’s too late. Did he aim for her, Mackie? Did he get up that morning planning on killing her? Did he spend days, weeks, months, like you, working on the details? Did he tell himself he could take innocent bystanders, too, because they didn’t matter? The kill mattered.”

“He killed her, and they did nothing.”

“So you target him, this guy who tried to stop, and you target the doctor and his office manager because her appointment ran over, and you target her supervisor, who gave her grief because she kept coming in late, wasn’t doing her job.”

“She did her best!”

“Who says somebody’s best is always good enough? What world do you live in? You target the lawyer you went to because he couldn’t make it all better for you. And you use your daughter to make the kills because you’re so fucked-up you can’t make the strikes. Whose idea was it to take out more? Hers, I’m guessing.

Hers because she wanted that power, that thrill. That practice. Practice so when she got to her own list, she could take out her mother and her little brother.”

His abused eyes twitched now. “We’re going to Alaska.”

“She was never going to Alaska. What the hell does she want to go to Alaska for? She’s a fifteen-year-old girl from New York, and the city has everything she wants and needs. Targets galore.

“She’ll kill this little boy, this cute little kid because her mother had the nerve to have another offspring. She won’t get to him today or tomorrow, not next week, but in six months or a year, when he thinks he’s safe again? When he’s out playing with some friends, she’ll wipe them all out, all those kids. Because she can, because you gave her the excuse, and you taught her how.”

“She won’t.”

But his ravaged eyes cut away.

“You know she will. Maybe he’ll be twelve when she comes for him. He and a couple of pals heading down to the arcade or riding airboards, or hanging in the park. And done! She ends them all. Just like she ended him.” She pulled Alan Markum’s photo out of the file. “He and his wife, having a day together, their wedding anniversary.

She was going to tell him they’re having a baby. She never got the chance, like that baby will never have the chance to know its father. You did that, Mackie, you and Willow. You took that life on a fucking whim, and now another kid grows up without ever knowing its father. For what? So you can cover up killing a doctor who was busy bringing another life into this screwed-up world so his appointments ran late?

“You stole from them. From this pregnant woman, just like your wife was pregnant. By your rules we should execute you and Willow. You took the father from the child.”

“They took from me.”

“How did he take from you?” She shoved the picture closer yet. “How did Alan Markum take from you? He never met you, you didn’t know him. What did he do to you to deserve death, to deserve never holding his son or daughter?”

“We . . . We had to protect the mission. Collateral damage.” “That’s it? That’s what you taught her. So this boy, this kid on his

seventeenth birthday?” She tossed Nathaniel’s photo on the table. “This boy whose mother loved him, who never did you any harm, he’s just excess? His life means nothing?”

“We had to finish.” The tremors rose up in his voice now, and his eyes watered. “We needed justice for Susann. For Gabriel.”

“You needed blood, and Willow craved it. She craves the kill like you crave the funk. You gave it to her. You needed someone to blame so you made your list and fuck anybody who happened to be caught in her crosshairs. Now he is.” She tapped Zach’s photo. “That’s what you created. It’s what you’ve fucking wrought.”

“She’ll go to Alaska. Live free. You’ll never find her.” “She’s not going anywhere. Don’t you fucking get it?” Eve

demanded as she sprang up, swooped around the table. “She’s not done, and she won’t be. Tell me, fucking tell me, if you weren’t already thinking about other names. Who else screwed things up for you in your fucked mind, Mackie? The stepfather? Oh, I’d bet my badge he was on your next mission.”

She saw the flicker in his watery, ruined eyes. “He took your place. Lowenbaum. He pushed you out. Patroni. He didn’t understand. Oh, yeah, you were already working all that out in your head. And she’s

like you. She’s looking for blood, for blame. Your eyes and hands, Mackie. She’s an addict, Mackie, just like you. Her addiction is death, and you gave her the first hit.”

“She’s avenging—”

“Nothing!” Eve interrupted. “You broken down piece of shit, this isn’t about justice. It’s not even about revenge. It’s about murder. It’s about you giving her the green to kill whoever she wanted. That’s what she’s doing now. And this boy here, he’s top of her list. Don’t make me take her out. Look at me, goddamn you. Don’t make me take her out, and don’t think, not for a second, I’ll hesitate to do that if she gives me no choice. Her life’s in your trembling hands, because with or without you, I’ll find her. With or without you, I’ll stop her. But without you, I may have to give someone else the green.

Without you, she may never be sixteen.” “You won’t find her.”

“But I will. She can put me on her list if she hasn’t already, but I’ll find her first. She’s a cop killer, Mackie, and every cop in this city is hunting her. Some of them may not wait for the green. You’re not there to hold her back. You’re not there to keep her level. She’s already made mistakes, and she’ll make more. She’s fifteen, and she’ll make mistakes without her father to help her. She’s alone, and every target on your list and hers is out of range. She’ll lose control, she’ll hit another location, more collateral damage, and we’ll end her. Then her blood’s on you, Mackie. Your daughter’s blood’s on your hands.”

“No.”

“She disobeyed you already,” Peabody said quietly. “You told her to get out of the city. You’d have had a route plotted out, but she didn’t take it. She didn’t leave, didn’t go somewhere safe to wait.

Because she can’t.”

“She can’t,” Eve agreed, “because the missions, yours and hers, come first. As long as he’s breathing.” Once again, Eve tapped Zach’s photo. “She’ll stay. And because she’ll stay, I’ll find her. Pray I find her before another cop does. I’ll give her a chance to surrender. Pray she takes it.”

“She’ll . . .”

“Die,” Eve said flatly. “Is there enough funk in the world to blur your vision on that one?”

“Get away from me.”

“Sorry, Mackie, time to get used to not getting your way. I don’t have to get away from you. You’ve been arrested for conspiracy to murder, multiple counts, and you have confessed on record to same. Your life as you knew it is over. You’ll live the rest of it being told where to go, when to eat, when to sleep, and every second of that in an off-planet cage.”

He looked at Eve now, with hate. “You want that for my girl.”

“I want your girl to live. You can believe that. I want her to live, Mackie. Do you?”

“She’s my flesh and blood.”

“Does that matter to her? This little boy’s her flesh and blood. Her brother. And if she could get him in her sights right now, he’d be in the morgue. Don’t make me put her there, Mackie. Help me bring her in, don’t make me take her out.”

“To live in a cage for the rest of her life?”

Eve let out a long breath, straightened, paced the room. Gave the slightest nod to the two-way mirror.

“That tells me you’d rather she be dead than breathing, so I’m wasting my time with you. Peabody, take this worthless fuck back to

—”

She broke off, cursed under her breath, stalked to the door at the brisk knock. “What? I’m in Interview.”

“And I’m here to offer the subject of that Interview a deal.” Reo sailed in, set her briefcase on the table.

“Screw that. Let’s take this outside, Counselor.”

“We’re all here to protect and serve this city and its people. For the record, Reo, APA, Cher, now in Interview. The PA’s office has a deal for Mr. Mackie.”

“I didn’t ask for a deal. I told that worthless PD no deals.” “He didn’t ask for a deal,” Eve snapped. “Get out.”

“The deal involves Willow Mackie. Her future. Do you want a future for your daughter, sir?”

“I’m not helping you.”

“Then help her. I’m authorized to offer you this. If you give us information leading to your daughter’s arrest before—and I stress before—she kills or injures anyone else, if she surrenders peaceably, we will agree to try her as a minor on all charges brought.”

“Bullshit, that’s bullshit!” Raging, Eve gripped Reo’s arm. “Outside, Reo.”

Reo simply shook Eve off. “Dallas, this comes from the top, and has been agreed to by your boss, and mine.”

“What kind of chickenshit, weaselly bullshit are you trying to serve here? She killed twenty-five people in cold blood. Dozens of others suffered injuries and trauma. She’s no kid on a joyride, you gutless bitch.”

Reo turned steely. “And if you’d apprehended her by now, I wouldn’t have to make this deal. If you can’t find and stop a teenager, that’s not on me. Bitch. Go on, put your hands on me again,” she warned when Eve took a step toward her. “You’ll be off this investigation in a snap. Do your job, Lieutenant. I’ll do mine.”

“Oh, I’ll do my job. Peabody, we’re out. We’re hunting.” She wrenched the door open. “Better make that deal fast, because if I find her before the ink dries, she’s mine. Dallas and Peabody, exiting the goddamn fucking Interview.”

She slammed the door behind her, rolled her shoulders, then bulleted to Observation.

“Quite a performance,” Roarke said. “I’m glad I got here just before curtain.”

Eve just muttered, “Come on, come on,” and stared through the glass.

“Explain ‘tried as a minor,’” Mackie said.

“You know very well that due to the severity of the crimes she’s accused of, Willow Mackie could and would be tried as an adult.” All business now, Reo sat in the chair Eve had vacated. “She could and would be tried, convicted, and sentenced to life in prison, again multiple sentences. She would be transported to an off-planet penal colony, where she would spend, given current life expectancies, the next century.”

“Maybe I forced her to do it.”

“It won’t fly, Mackie,” Reo said calmly. “You couldn’t force her to complete the expert strikes with such accuracy. You weren’t there last night when eighteen people were murdered.”

“I pressured her, influenced her. Brainwashed her.”

“You can try that, of course, but I can promise I’d rip that to pieces in court. I’d tear that to pieces,” she continued, “and have the evidence of her plans to kill others to help me do just that. She was not under duress. She was co-parented and has never indicated duress to her mother, to her teachers, to anyone. And, in fact, as Lieutenant Dallas learned through her investigation, she has her own list of targets.”

Reo paused to let it sink in.

“Despite all this,” she continued, “Willow Mackie is fifteen, and we will agree to these terms in order to save the lives of innocent people. It’s a one-time offer, and the clock’s ticking on it. As hotheaded as the lieutenant may be, she is absolutely correct.

Willow Mackie will kill again. I suspect she’ll do so very soon if not apprehended. If you help us prevent that, if she harms no one else and is apprehended peacefully, she will be tried as a minor and be eligible for release on her eighteenth birthday. She will, understand this, be evaluated physically and mentally. And she will have to agree to residence in a halfway house and counseling, with further evaluations, from her eighteenth birthday for a period of one year. Those are the terms. Do you wish to have a representative read the terms and discuss them with you?”

“I don’t need anyone. Let me see it. Let me read it.” “He’s going to sign it,” Eve said, watching.

“You broke his confidence. And using the little boy,” Mira added. “That shook his trust in her. He’s afraid for her, but not only afraid she’ll be caught and stopped, even hurt. He’s afraid of what she’ll do without him to hold her back.”

“He knew what she was, what she had in her. He can pretend he didn’t, but he did. And he used it when it served his sick purpose.

Maybe she’d have killed without him at some point, but he gave her the skills, the weapons, and the reasons. They’ll both have a long, long time to think about who led who.”

“If he signs,” Peabody said, “she’ll be out in under three years.”

“Let him sign. Then we’ll see.”

“It’s a crap deal,” Peabody said. “I know you were playing to him with Reo in there, but it’s still a crap deal.”

“If it helps us find her before she takes out another twenty-five civilians, not so crappy. And she’ll go for more next time. She’s keeping score. She’ll be watching screen, too, see what we’re saying about her, reading between the lines. Change her appearance a little bit. Go more for the boy look maybe. Or get herself a wig—go all girl. She’s planned it. Her father’s daughter.”

“I want another guarantee,” Mackie said to Reo. “I want a guarantee she’ll be brought in alive and unharmed.”

“Mr. Mackie, I’m an APA, not a police officer. I can’t guarantee what may happen during the attempt to apprehend her. If she resists, if she fires on officers or civilians—”

“They bring her in, alive, or no deal.”

“I can amend the deal this way. I can promise that every attempt will be made to bring your daughter in alive. That no officer will use excessive force or give a termination order. If I told you I could do more, you’d know I was lying to you. I’m giving you the best chance for her.”

“Add that in. Add that in and I’ll sign it.”

“Let me clear it. Reo, APA, Cher, exiting Interview.”

She stepped out, took a breath, whipped out her ’link. And as she spoke to her superior, held up a hand for Eve to wait.

“That’s right. Yes, sir. I have the primary right here, and she understands the additional terms. Done.” She clicked off, nodded at Dallas. “Done. They’ll add it in, send the amended agreement. Can you enforce it?”

“I’ll make it clear. I want her alive, Reo. I want her in the same box as he is. I want to look in her eyes and tell her she’s finished.”

“And when she’s eighteen?”

Eve merely smiled, flat and cold. “Go pick up your paperwork, then we’ll see what he has to say.”

Eve turned away to answer her own ’link. “Dallas.”

“Heating up, boss,” Baxter told her. “We caught a whiff of her heading east on Fifty-Second this morning. We’re heading back to her old neighborhood.”

“Ask around that ice cream place. Divine. She’s got a weakness.” “On it. Can always use a scoop of Chocolate Sin in a sugar cone.

How’s it going there?”

“Closing it up. I’ll be in touch.” She waited for Reo.

“I’ve got your chickenshit right here,” Reo said.

“Then let’s make it work. We think she’s got a hole back in the place her father had them before the first strike. Let’s see if he can get us closer before she kills somebody else.”

Eve stepped back in, restarted the record. Mackie’s skin had gone transluscent under a sheen of sweat. He needed a fix, Eve thought, was hanging on by a thread.

“You can get her a free ride.” Eve poured disgust over her tone. “Save her life, and maybe—though you don’t give a cold shit—save innocent lives.”

“Three years inside isn’t a free ride,” Reo said briskly and, sitting, offered the amended agreement to Mackie.

“Tell that to the twenty-five dead, and the ones left behind to mourn them.” Eve slapped her palms on the table, leaned into Mackie’s sweating face. “You think my hands are tied? Only for now. When she gets out, I’ll be on her. I’ll know when she sleeps, when she eats, when she farts. And I’ll be right there when she makes a mistake. Remember that. Count on it.”

“The priority here is to find Willow Mackie before she harms anyone else. It should be yours, Lieutenant.” Reo offered Mackie a pen.

“You sign first,” Mackie said.

With a nod, Reo signed in her pretty, perfect penmanship. Mackie snatched the pen, managed a shaky, jittery scrawl.

Reo put the agreement and the pen in her briefcase, closed it. “Mr.

Mackie, where is your daughter?”

“She should be on her way to Alaska. We worked out three routes.

She was supposed to take a bus to Columbus, then choose one of three routes west.”

“But she isn’t on her way to Alaska, is she?” Reo kept her voice reasonable. “Where is she? This agreement is null and void unless you offer information that leads to her arrest.”

“She’s strong willed, determined. The girl’s a winner.”

Eve’s sound of derision had Mackie’s blurry eyes cutting up to her face. “You don’t know her.”

“If you do,” Eve shot back, “where is she?”

“She wants to finish what we started. She’s no quitter.”

“She wants more than that. You know she wants more than that or you’d never have signed that agreement.”

“The asshole her mother married’s always on her case.”

“So, naturally, he has to die. If you want to save her life, the life of that little boy, tell me where the fuck she is and stop making excuses for her.”

“If we ever got separated, or she needed to regroup, couldn’t get out of the city right off, she was to go back to the apartment—to the area we’d scoped out. Where she knows the lay of the land, where she’s a familar face so nobody much notices.”

“You want us to believe she went back to the place we’ve already nailed down?”

“It’s got a basement, a storage room, an old laundry room.

Machines are busted down there so nobody uses it. We laid in some supplies.”

“You think we didn’t go through that building, pull in those supplies, and seal it up?” Eve dropped down into a chair. “You’re wasting my time.”

“If she couldn’t get into the building or if she felt it was being surveilled, there’s a flop on Lex, between Thirty-Ninth and Fortieth. If she needed time to regroup, or wait for me, or let things cool, she’d go there, lay low. Wait it out.”

“What’s she carrying?” When he hesitated, Eve leaned forward again. “You want her taken alive? What’s she carrying?”

“She’s got a Tactical-XT, military, with long-range scope. Night- vision option. Two hand blasters, a police-issue stunner, pump laser, six flash grenades.”

“Sharps?”

“Combat knife, flip sticker, telescope baton with bayonette.” “Body armor?”

“Full body. Plus helmet, of course.”

“If you’ve left out so much as a penknife and she uses it on one of my people, that agreement isn’t worth jack.”

“She’s got a multitool. It’s got sharps. Tell her I said to stand down. Tell her that her father said to stand down and live. The basement of the apartment or the flop on Lex. Those are the planned retreats.”

“Then you’d better hope we find her. Interview end.”

S

—

he turned him over to uniforms, with instructions to put him on suicide watch. She let Reo deal with the legalities. Lowenbaum

had already moved out of Observation, barking orders into his comm.

“You want to ride with us?” he asked her.

“No, I’ve got my own to set up. I’ve got two detectives in that area already. If she’s there, I don’t want her making them and popping off strikes. Get your op set up—odds are on the flop. She could get into the basement, but it’s a wrong move when she knows we’ve been in that location. She wouldn’t make that wrong a move.”

“Agreed, but we’ll sweep for heat source—if I can pull your EDD team with us.”

“Take them.” She pulled out her own comm as she strode toward her bullpen. “Baxter,” she began, then filled him in.

“Reineke, Jenkinson, suit up. Uniform Carmichael, pick six and do the same. Santiago, Detective Carmichael, you’re second unit, full suits. Suspect is Willow Mackie, age fifteen. She is armed and dangerous. Weaponry includes military-grade Tactical-XT with scope and night vision, two blasters, stunner, pump laser, flash grenades, various sharps. Do not, repeat, do not let her age deter you from stunning the living shit out of her. We want her alive. SWAT is moving in to surround and secure. Peabody, get a fricking map of the sector on this half-assed screen.”

Eve worked it out as she went. “She won’t go easy, and if she spots us or Lowenbaum’s team, she will attempt to pick us off. She’s not in the fricking basement,” Eve muttered. “It’s bad planning. She’d want higher ground, an eyeline. We’ll clear it, but that’s not where she is. The flop . . .”

“Would you like the building’s details?” Roarke said from behind her.

“Helpful.”

He stepped over to Peabody, interfaced his PPC with the comp. “Post-Urban construction,” he told Eve. “Currently an SRO primarily used by low-level LCs, transients, addicts, and petty criminals. Eight stories, twelve rooms per story. A small lobby with droid service.

Cash only. Rooms by the half hour, hour, night, and week. No soundproofing, no privacy screening.”

“Got it. Heat sourcing will give us occupied rooms—and anyone who’s alone. She won’t have company. Ears may help.”

She paced back and forth in front of the image. “We’ll hit the droid, get verification. If she’s in there, we’ll get people out—if possible.

Single room, single window, single door.”

“She may have the door booby-trapped, LT,” Reineke said. “Yeah. I would. I don’t like it.” She paced again. “It’s not a

basement, but where the hell’s her out? Fire escape? She’d know we’d have the exterior covered.”

“She may believe she can fight her way out,” Mira put in. “She’s fifteen. Indestructible, and the star of her own personal drama.”

“Maybe.”

But it niggled at her, niggled as she refined the op, as she prepared to move out.

“I’m with you,” Roarke told her.

“Okay.” Distracted, she frowned at him. “Why?” “Is that a personal or professional question?” “You’d be more use with EDD.”

“Not necessarily. Particularly as you don’t think she’s where they’re going.”

“I don’t see why he’d lie. Why he’d go through the whole agreement deal just to lie. He wants her to live, and it was the right angle, pushing the brother, her plans to do the kid, the others. I could see him take it in, see he knew she’d go there. But he wants her to live, and he wants her to get out, to know she’ll only spend a few years inside.”

“She’s his child.”

“He wasn’t lying, but . . .”

“Take a minute.”

Shaking her head, she pulled a combat knife from her drawer, slid it from the sheath, back in. “Clock’s ticking,” she said as she hooked it to her belt.

“And Lowenbaum is even now putting men in position to pin her down. Take a moment, and let whatever’s brewing in that head of yours out.”

“It’s more gut.”

But she stopped, sat, put her boots on her desk, stared at the board.

When Peabody started in, Roarke held up a hand to silence her.

Head, gut, instinct, sixth sense, or cop logic—whatever it was, he knew it was working inside her.

They’d wait.