Random in Death, page 33
“I’ll talk to him. Let’s get Francis back in a cage.”
“We’ve got that.” Baxter and Trueheart stepped out. “The boy and I’ll take him down. Both of you have spent enough time with him. We were in Observation for a while.”
“Appreciate it.” She walked down to the bench. “Dr. Bryce.”
He looked up at her with eyes red-rimmed and desolate. “Is it over?”
“This part is. You should go home. There’s nothing you can do here. Is there someone I can contact for you?”
“No. No one right now. I’ve sat here while he was in that room, and I’ve thought of a thousand ways I could have done things differently. A thousand things from the time he was born until I walked out of that room today.”
She sat beside him. “Dr. Bryce. In my experience with someone like Francis? Nothing you’d have done differently would have changed him.”
“I shouldn’t have let him lock so many doors.”
“Maybe not. But he’d have found another way.”
“When his mother died … When I had to tell him his mother died, he never shed a tear. At the time, I was relieved. I thought, she’s been out of his life for so long now, he doesn’t feel the loss. But I see now, that was a warning of what he lacks inside.”
He shuddered out a breath.
“Now I think … Those girls. Their families. What he’s done to them. Lieutenant. Oh God.”
He feels the loss, Eve thought when he looked at her. And always would.
“I know he has to pay for what he did, but I have to try to help him. He’s my son, my only child, and I don’t know how to begin to help him.”
“Dr. Mira. She has a sterling reputation as a psychiatrist. You don’t have to take my word on that. You can look her up. She’ll be holding an interview with him in the next day or two. She’ll talk to you.”
“All right. I never saw it in him until today. I never saw it.”
“He didn’t let you see it. Can I arrange transportation for you?”
“No. No, thank you. I’m going to walk awhile, then call for a car.”
Shoulders tight, mind exhausted, she sat where she was a moment before sending Nadine a text.
Done. Full confession. Tell Jake Jenna got justice. I need to write it up, then I need to get away from this for a while. Jenkinson might give you a one-on-one. Don’t ask me now.
I won’t. We’re all wrung out. Dallas, thanks. From all of us, thanks.
She got up, walked to Reo and Mira.
“That was difficult,” Mira began. “It’s difficult to see such an active psychopath inside a young body. A challenge to find the key to unlock the psychopath for all to see.
“You and Peabody did an exceptional job in there.”
“Difficult to see, yeah. But the job was easier than I expected. He’s educated, he’s got intellect, but his arrogance, his narcissism blocks any actual smarts. It was never about getting laid. He could have paid for a fake ID, hit on a street LC. It was about hurting them, and showing them he could take what he wanted. And using his famed intellect to do it.”
“Yes.”
“You and Peabody made my job easy,” Reo told her. “We’re going to push for consecutive life terms, off-planet. Three consecutive life terms. And we’re going to get it. That’s a very dangerous individual.”
She gave Eve’s arm a squeeze. “I’m going to go start pushing. And you should find a horizontal space and get some sleep.”
“As soon as possible. Thanks.”
She walked to her office. Roarke stood from her desk, took the two steps toward her, and folded her into his arms.
“Oh. Well. I shouldn’t do this now. I still have to write it up and update Whitney.”
“He was in Observation long enough to know you did the job. And you need this now.”
“I guess I do.” And she could have stayed as they were for hours. “But I still have to write it up. We have to pack.”
“That’s done. Bags, such as they are, on the shuttle.”
“Okay, check that off. I need to make some stops on the way.”
“To the families, and the girls.”
“They deserve to hear it in person, not on a media report. Del will be thrilled to see you. I need to check if she’s still in the hospital.”
“She’s home. She texted me.”
“Good, then— Texted you? You gave her your contact?”
“I did.”
“Softie.”
“In this case, apparently so.”
Those eyes, he thought, so like Eve’s after a nightmare.
“Write your report, then we’ll make those stops.” He kissed her. “I’ll wait in the bullpen.”
* * *
After the report, after the stops, Roarke piloted the shuttle himself. Their just-you-and-me time began then and there. While he flew, she slept. Still in her in-charge outfit, including, he noted, her thick-soled boots, with her weapon still strapped on.
No dreams, he thought. Not now. And not, he hoped, for the few days they’d have alone together.
She stirred when he landed. Then sat up, shook herself awake.
“Are we there?”
“We are. I’ll grab the bags.”
“I’ve got mine. It sure doesn’t weigh much.”
“You won’t need much, will you now, for those four s’s.”
“Guess not.”
Shouldering her bag, she climbed off the shuttle.
And oh, oh, oh, the warm tropical air. The white sand, the impossibly blue sky and sea with palms so green, so gently waving.
And the lovely house, the only house on the island, with its huge windows and tile roof, its long decks. The stately veranda where they could sit, look over the colorful plants and grasses, then over the sand to the sea.
A sparkling pool stretched behind the house, with chairs and loungers under a vine-smothered pergola. At night it would all sparkle with pretty lights, and under a sky filled with stars, a tropical white moon.
Just now, she thought heaven couldn’t look more beautiful.
He’d have had supplies brought in, and the staff, a quick shuttle flight away, would have prepared everything.
She watched a bird, colorful as the plants, wing by, heard the sea gently rolling toward the white sand beach, then away again into its own rich blue heart.
Every drop of tension and stress drained out of her, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.
“We’ll have a glass of wine, won’t we?”
“I vote for a bottle.” She lifted a hand to his cheek. “You look a little tired. You hardly ever do.”
“I’d say we put a month into less than a week.”
“Feels like it.”
When he opened the door, she dropped her bag on the white tile floor. Fresh flowers filled vases and turned the air into a garden. Sparkling glass brought the views into the wide-open space, empty of anyone but them.
She tugged his bag free, dropped it, then boosted herself up, wrapped her legs around his waist.
“’Links on emergency contact only.”
“Already done.”
“I haven’t, but I will.” Completely content, she ran a hand through his hair. “I say the fourth s starts now if you’re not too tired.”
“I think I can manage that.”
When he kissed her, she knew he could, and would. So she fell into the kiss, into him, as they held on to each other in the wide-open space, with the breeze blowing through the door of the house on an island where there was no one but the two of them.
Titles by J. D. Robb
Naked in Death
Glory in Death
Immortal in Death
Rapture in Death
Ceremony in Death
Vengeance in Death
Holiday in Death
Conspiracy in Death
Loyalty in Death
Witness in Death
Judgment in Death
Betrayal in Death
Seduction in Death
Reunion in Death
Purity in Death
Portrait in Death
Imitation in Death
Divided in Death
Visions in Death
Survivor in Death
Origin in Death
Memory in Death
Born in Death
Innocent in Death
Creation in Death
Strangers in Death
Salvation in Death
Promises in Death
Kindred in Death
Fantasy in Death
Indulgence in Death
Treachery in Death
New York to Dallas
Celebrity in Death
Delusion in Death
Calculated in Death
Thankless in Death
Concealed in Death
Festive in Death
Obsession in Death
Devoted in Death
Brotherhood in Death
Apprentice in Death
Echoes in Death
Secrets in Death
Dark in Death
Leverage in Death
Connections in Death
Vendetta in Death
Golden in Death
Shadows in Death
Faithless in Death
Forgotten in Death
Abandoned in Death
Desperation in Death
Encore in Death
Payback in Death
Random in Death
Anthologies
Silent Night
(with Susan Plunkett, Dee Holmes, and Claire Cross)
Out of This World
(with Laurell K. Hamilton, Susan Krinard, and Maggie Shayne)
Remember When
(with Nora Roberts)
Bump in the Night
(with Mary Blayney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
Dead of Night
(with Mary Blayney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
Three in Death
Suite 606
(with Mary Blayney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
In Death
The Lost
(with Patricia Gaffney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Blayney)
The Other Side
(with Mary Blayney, Patricia Gaffney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
Time of Death
The Unquiet
(with Mary Blayney, Patricia Gaffney, Ruth Ryan Langan, and Mary Kay McComas)
Mirror, Mirror
(with Mary Blayney, Elaine Fox, Mary Kay McComas, and R. C. Ryan)
Down the Rabbit Hole
(with Mary Blayney, Elaine Fox, Mary Kay McComas, and R. C. Ryan)
About the Author
J. D. Robb is the pseudonym for #1 New York Times bestselling author Nora Roberts. She is the author of more than 230 novels, including the futuristic suspense In Death series. There are more than 500 million copies of her books in print. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Epigraphs
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Titles by J.D. Robb
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
First published in the United States by St. Martin’s Press, an imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group
RANDOM IN DEATH. Copyright © 2023 by Nora Roberts. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Ervin Serrano
Cover art: leaf © Valentina Razumova/Shutterstock.com; texture © tomertu/Shutterstock.com; woman © AlmostViralDesign/Shutterstock.com; alley © Bruno Passigatti/Shutterstock.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Robb, J. D., 1950– author.
Title: Random in death / J. D. Robb.
Description: First edition. | New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2024. | Series: In death; 58
Identifiers: LCCN 2023036031 | ISBN 9781250289544 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250289551 (ebook)
Subjects: LCGFT: Detective and mystery fiction. | Thrillers (Fiction). | Novels.
Classification: LCC PS3568.O243 R33 2024 | DDC 813/.54—dc23/eng/20230814
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023036031
eISBN 9781250289551
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First Edition: 2024
J. D. Robb, Random in Death
