“I’d be better suited to address that area.” Roarke stepped into the holo. “I can answer any questions you have, and I’ll send you the schematics and blueprints.”
Eve stayed where she was, just stepped back in her head and let the technical talk roll over her. If Whitney pulled Dorian out of An Didean, it would leave a scar. On the kid and, Eve admitted, on herself.
Because she knew what it was to be shuffled around, all in the name of the best welfare of the child. And, she could admit as well, she’d made some of the decisions she’d made because she knew.
Too close, too deep, no question. Now all she could do was wait, accept the command, the consequences, and see it through.
If Whitney pulled her off the case, and he had every right to do so, she’d turn over every scrap of data she had to whoever took her place, to the feds.
They’d bust it down, she believed that absolutely. But Dorian Gregg would never trust a cop again. She wouldn’t believe she mattered. And the first chance she got, she’d run again.
Living on the streets and, one day, invariably, she’d sell the body the bastards had abused, pampered, and trained.
And, Eve thought, she’d be responsible for that. She’d crossed the lines.
“That’s a great deal of high-end security for a school,” Whitney commented.
“The students, their parents or guardians, the staff, guest instructors all deserve a safe place. You may also wish to speak with Rochelle, as she can provide you with the day-to-day precautions and protocols, and the schedule she’s planned for Dorian.”
“And when we close this case?”
“Dorian will remain a student at An Didean as long as she wishes. Rochelle will begin the process of speaking with her contacts at CPS, arrange for a caseworker, and the necessary guardianship. This is part of the services offered.”
Whitney said nothing for a moment. “I’ll contact Dr. Mira. Meanwhile, Lieutenant, you have a matter of hours before you’ll call in the feds. I suggest you put this report together carefully, and push—push hard—on nailing down the location of this hellhole, get data off that broken swipe. Get a damn name. One name that can break down the door to the rest.”
“Yes, sir. Commander, I apologize for—”
“Save it,” he snapped, and faded off.
“Ouch,” she murmured.
“You handled that very well,” Roarke began.
“Did I? Did I handle any of it well?”
Letting go, she sat on the floor in front of the board, pulled her knees up, pressed her face to them, and rocked.
“Eve.” Roarke lowered down beside her, put his arms around her. “It’s all right now. I don’t think he disagreed with anything you did, he’s just a bit annoyed at being out of the loop.”
“It’s not that, it’s not that. It’s not even that he didn’t pull me off the investigation. It’s all of it, just all of it. Locked doors, locked in the dark, beatings, rapes. Trapped.”
He stroked her back, her hair as Galahad ran over to rub against her.
“She’s safe now, as you are, as all of them will be when we’re done.”
“You were probably right, back at the start. I should’ve passed this on.”
“I wasn’t right. Not wrong, either, as it was worry for you, for this exact thing. You working yourself so thin, feeling too much, and hurting. But, my darling Eve, I never worried you wouldn’t find your way to push through it and stop this evil.”
He lifted her face, kissed it as she curled an arm around the cat.
“You did what was right for a murdered child, for a desperate and frightened one, and for all the others. You put them first, and as I know the commander, he knows that.”
He brushed tears away. “That’s who you are. That’s who I love.”
“I look at her, I listen to her, and my insides shake. I need the mad, I need the furious, but I can’t get through the shakes.”
“When you need to, you will. No one does the pissed-off cop half so well.”
With a watery laugh, she cuddled the cat and leaned into Roarke. “I need to think straight. I know I need to think straight, do the job. I have to think straight and write up this report.”
“So you will. They can’t break you. You won’t let them. Neither will I.” He kissed her again. “Or him, come to that.” And gave Galahad one long stroke.
He wanted, deeply, to bundle her up, pour a soother into her, and put her to bed. But he knew what she needed.