The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [229]
As questions began to bullet out of the crowd of reporters, he held up both hands. “I’ll turn questions over to the primary investigating officer, Lieutenant Eve Dallas.”
He turned, then bent down to her ear. “Five minutes, and don’t give them any more than they already have. Next time, Dallas, wear a goddamn coat.”
She huddled in her jacket and stepped forward.
“Do you have any suspects?”
Eve didn’t sigh, but she wanted to. She hated facing the media. “We’re questioning several individuals in connection with these cases.”
“Were the victims sexually assaulted?”
“The cases are being handled as sexual homicides.”
“How are they connected? Did the victims know each other?”
“I’m not free to discuss that area of the investigation at this time.” She held up a hand to cut off the vicious barrage. “We are, however, treating the cases as connected. As Chief Tibble stated, the investigation, thus far, points to one killer.”
“Santa Claus is coming to town,” some comedian called out, and set off a wave of laughter in the crowd.
“Yeah, make a joke of it.” Temper warmed her blood and made her forget her hands were freezing. “That’s easy enough when you haven’t seen what he leaves behind. When you haven’t had to tell mothers and partners that the person they loved is dead.”
The crowd fell quiet enough that she heard the swish of copter blades overhead. “I imagine the person responsible for this misery, for these deaths, will get a big charge out of being played up in the media. Go ahead and give him what he wants. Make the murder of four people small and foolish, and turn him into a star. But inside Cop Central we know what he is. He’s pathetic, even more pathetic than you. I’ve got nothing more to say.”
She turned, ignoring the shouts, and all but bumped into Tibble.
“Inside one moment, Lieutenant.” He took her arm, steering her quickly through guards and through the reinforced doors. “Well done,” he said briefly. “And now that we’re done with that annoying spectacle, I have to play politics with the mayor. Go do your job, Dallas, and get me this son of a bitch.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And find some gloves, for Christ’s sake,” he added as he stalked away.
Eve jammed one hand in her pocket to warm it, and took out her communicator with the other. She tried Mira first, and was told the doctor was still in testing. She put in the next call to Peabody.
“Anything pop on the necklace?”
“We got a possible. Baubles and Bangles on Fifth. Their jeweler designed and made the necklace. This was a one of a kind—commissioned. They’re checking records now, but the clerk said she thought she remembered the customer coming in personally to pick it up. They’ve got security cameras.”
“Meet me there. I’m on my way.”
“Lieutenant?”
She glanced over and into the hollow eyes of Jerry Vandoren. “Jerry, what are you doing here?”
“I heard about the press conference. I wanted . . .” He lifted his hands, then helplessly let them fall. “I wanted to hear what you had to say. I listened. I want to thank you . . .”
He trailed off again, looking around as if he’d turned a corner and found himself on another planet.
“Jerry.” She took his arm, guiding him away before the reporters scented fresh meat and pounced on him. “You should go home.”
“I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I dream about her every night. Marianna’s not dead when I dream about her.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “Then I wake up, and she is. Everyone says I need grief counseling. I don’t want to be counseled out of my grief, Lieutenant Dallas. I don’t want to stop feeling what I feel for her.”
It was out of her element, she thought, this raw desperation that looked to her for an answer. But she couldn’t turn away from it. “She wouldn’t want you to go on hurting. She loved you too much for that.”
“But when I stop hurting, she’ll really be gone.” He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. “I wanted—just to say I appreciated what you said out there. That you weren’t going to let them turn this into a joke. I know you’ll stop him.” The plea swam in his eyes.