In Death 19 - Visions in Death

couldn't stand it. And I called you. I know I should have let it run its course. I might have seen something that could help. I was panicked, and I fought it until I broke out." "We got to her, to the scene, quicker because you contacted me. We were able to preserve the scene because we were able to get there so fast. That matters." "I hope to God it does. Are you any closer to him?" "I think we are." Celina closed her eyes. "Thank God. If you have anything of his, I can try to see him." "We have the murder weapon." Celina shook her head. "I'll try, but it's bound to be like it was before, so what I see feel is the act itself, and the emotions raging through it. I need something he's touched with his bare hands. Something he's worn or held to really see him, to add to what you already know." Eve laid the cord on the table. Try anyway." Celina wet her lips, then reached out, touched the ribbon.
    Her head snapped back, and her eyes rolled up so only a slice of green showed in the white. As she started to slide out of the chair, her fingers went limp and released the ribbon.
    Eve leaped up, caught her before she hit the ground.
    "All him. Nothing of her. She's gone. Hidden away when he puts it around her neck. There's just his rage and fear and excitement. It's all over me like like insects biting at my skin. Horrible." "What does he do when he's done with her?" "Goes back to the light. He can go back to the light. I don't know what it means. My head. My head's splitting." "We'll get you something for it, and have you taken home.
    Peabody?" "Let's get you a blocker. Do you want to rest before you go home?" "No." She leaned against Peabody. "I just want to go." "Celina." Eve covered the red ribbon with her hand so when the woman turned she didn't see it. "You might want to talk to Dr Mira, a little counseling." "I appreciate the thought, I really do, but counseling--" "Her daughter is Wiccan, and a sensitive." "Ah." "Charlotte Mira. She's the best, and it might help you to talk to someone who'd understand your . . . situation." "It might. Thanks." When she was alone, Eve lifted the red cord, studied it.
    She didn't need to hold it to see, or to feel. Gift? she wondered. Or curse? Neither, she decided, and sealed the ribbon again. It was a tool, nothing more or less.
    She was trying to find the energy just to stand when the door opened, and Commander Whitney came in.
    She rose immediately. "Sir. I've just finished interviewing Sanchez, and was on my way to your office." "Sit. Where's that coffee from?" "My office, Commander." Then it'll be well worth it." He got himself a mug, poured, then sat across from her. Saying nothing, he scanned her face while he drank. "How much sleep you bank?" "A couple hours." Less, but who was counting?
    "Looks it. And the fact of that occurred to me when I came in and read your report. You've been eleven years, give or take a few months, under my command, haven't you, Lieutenant?" "Yes, sir." That length of time, and your rank, and you don't feel it would be justified even reasonable to inform me that you're not only running on fumes but have a vital interview scheduled for eight hundred hours when I ordered you to report to my office at nine hundred?" Since he seemed to want an honest answer, she took a moment to consider the question. "No, sir." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I thought as much. You eat any of those?" He jerked his chin toward the bagels.
    "No, sir, but they're fresh from vending. Well, as fresh as we get from vending." "Eat one now." "Sir?" "Eat, Dallas. Indulge me. You look like hell." She picked one up. "Matches how I feel." "I spoke with the mayor, and have a meeting with him and Chief Tibbie in about thirty. Your presence was requested." "At the mayor's office, sir, or The Tower?" "Mayor's office. But I will inform His Honor and the Chief that you're unable to attend as you are in the field." She didn't speak, but something must have run over her face. Something that made him smile. "Tell me what just went through your mind. And don't clean it up. That's an order." "I wasn't thinking anything, actually, sir. But I was mentally kissing your feet." He laughed, picked up half a bagel, broke that in half, and bit in. "You'll miss some fireworks. Shutting down a public park."
    "I need the scene preserved while the sweepers comb it." "And the mayor will counter, after all the political malarkey, that according to all reports, this perpetrator seals, and therefore you're