In Death 23 - Born in Death

you?” Roarke kept his voice light and gentle as he helped her out of bed. “She’s at our place, and she’s been worried about you. Why don’t we go see Mavis now?”
    Roarke gave Eve a long look as he helped Tandy out of the room.
    “A little shocky,” Peabody commented. “Mostly just scared. How do you want to handle? I can go with her to your place while you take the suspects.”
    Oh, how she wished. But she couldn’t very well dump two pregnant women on Roarke. “I’ll go with Tandy, get a statement out of her when she’s settled. Make sure the suspects are booked and caged for the night. They’re going to wait until morning for Interview. Let’s see how they like being locked up. Then go home, get some sleep.”
    “I’m so all about that. Look at this room. All the comforts. Bastards.”
     
    E ve called in Crime Scene, left Baxter, Trueheart, and McNab to work with them to process the room where Tandy had been imprisoned, to search the house. She hated leaving the scene, leaving the work, but climbed into the back of the vehicle. She had a victim who needed care.
    “I was so scared.” Bundled in Roarke’s coat, covered with a blanket, Tandy sat in the front passenger seat. “I think they were going to kill me. Take the baby, then kill me. They left me in there. He came in once a day, every day. And he looked at me like I was already dead. I couldn’t do anything.”
    “Where’d you get the sticker?” Eve asked her.
    “The what?”
    “The plastic shiv you were holding.”
    “Oh. They brought me food. The droid did. Have to keep the baby healthy, that’s what she said. Horrible thing, always cheerful. Even when she restrained me for exams. I palmed a couple of the plastic spoons—that’s all they brought in for me to eat with. Plastic spoons. And when they turned off the lights at night, I sawed and rubbed them together under the covers. Hours, it seemed like. I was going to hurt one of them. Somehow.”
    “Wish you’d had the chance. Do you want to tell me what happened, or do you want to wait on that until later?”
    “It was Thursday. I left work to walk to the bus stop. And she—her name is Madeline Bullock—she walked up to me. I was so ashamed. Before, in London when I found out I was pregnant, and things didn’t seem as if they were going to work out, I went to this agency. I was going to put the baby up for adoption. It seemed like the best thing to do. I—”
    “We know about that. They’re running an operation, under the cover of the foundation. Selling babies.”
    “Oh, God. God. I’m such an idiot.”
    “You’re not,” Roarke told her. “You trusted them.”
    “I did. I did. There were counselors, and they were so kind, so understanding. Ms. Bullock came in to meet me herself, and so did he. Her son. They said how I was giving a gift, to a worthy couple, and to my baby. I signed a contract, and they gave me money. For expenses, they said. Proper food, clothing. I had to agree to use their medical people, their facilities, but it was all so nice. I was to have regular care and monitoring, counseling, and the foundation would help me with lodging, and with education should I want to go back to school, or with career counseling. All of it.”
    “A very sweet pot.”
    “Yes, very sweet. But I changed my mind.” She wrapped her arms around her belly as she hunched in the seat. “I’d always wanted to make a family, to be a mother, and now I was denying myself. I’m smart enough, and strong and healthy. I’m not a child. I could make a good life for the baby. I took the money back. I’d hardly spent any, and I made up the difference with my savings.”
    She swiped at the tears on her face. “They were very harsh. I’d signed a contract, it was legally binding. They’d take me to court, and the law would force me to fulfill my obligations. What kind of a mother would I be, a liar and a cheat. It was horrible. I left the money. I was so upset, and questioning myself. Were they right? Would I be a terrible mum? Would the courts take my baby? How could I prove I’d given the money back? Stupid, so stupid.”
    “So you came to New York,” Eve prompted.
    “I thought, I’m not going to have this. I can’t risk it. I…I nearly went to see the baby’s father a dozen times, but I’d made this choice, so I was going to follow it through. I packed up, quit my job, sold some of my things. I had a friend who was driving to Paris for the weekend, and