New York to Dallas

hands around again. “I did arrange for a few women to visit Isaac. For therapeutic purposes, and with full approval. Naturally, they—the women—needed to be compensated for their time. Rehabilitation requires many tools.”
    “Cut the bullshit. How much did he pay you?”
    “A small fee. Barely worth mentioning. Just to cover my own expenses.”
    “A thousand a pop’s a lot of expenses. We found your account, Stibble.”
    “Donation.” It squeaked out of him. “He donated to my center. It’s perfectly legal.”
    “How did you find the women? They’re not all local.”
    “I, ah, I’ve counseled many troubled people.”
    “Who did he pick, out of those troubled people, to work with him?”
    His eyes darted left and right, and Eve concluded she’d barely have to flex her fingers to squeeze the juice out of him.
    “I don’t know. I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Yes, you do. I see it all over you.” She moved forward just enough to infringe on his space, kept her face hard, her voice flat and grim. “You knew exactly what he was up to, and you didn’t give a shit as long as you collected your fee. He settled on one. I want a name.”
    “I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
    Eve moved fast, had him against the wall, arms behind his back. She slapped restraints on him.
    “No! What are you doing? You can’t! I’m cooperating.”
    “Not by my gauge. You’re under arrest for taking a bribe while in the employ of the State of New York, for aiding and abetting a convicted felon, for accessory to that felon’s escape, for murder, for—”
    “Murder!”
    “Nathan Rigby. McQueen slit his throat in the escape, and you’re going down for it.”
    “I didn’t know. How could I know?”
    “Give me a name.” Eve perp-walked him to the door. “I want his partner.”
    “Sister Suzan! It’s Sister Suzan. Let me go.”
    “Where is she?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t know. I swear to God.”
    She paused, just inside the door, slightly loosened her grip. “How do you know he picked her?”
    “I took messages in and out for them, after she told me he wanted to stop the visits. Memo cubes and discs. I don’t know what was on them. He’d tell me where to send hers, different mail drops. That’s all I know.”
    “Oh, I doubt it, but it’s a start.”
    She muscled him out the door.
    “I cooperated. You can’t arrest me for anything.”
    “Watch me.”
     
     
    Eve planned to move him through processing, let him sweat, then hit him again. He had more to give, and she had little doubt he’d give it. While she worked him, Peabody could do a deeper search on and for Sister Suzan Devon.
    But as she pulled into the garage at Central her communicator signaled.
    “Dallas.”
    “You’re to report to Commander Whitney’s office immediately, Lieutenant.”
    “On my way.”
    “Do you think something broke?” Peabody wondered.
    “I’ll find out when I get up there. Can you handle this asshole?”
    Peabody glanced back at Stibble, who’d sobbed the entire way in. “I think I can manage him.”
    “Pass him off, then have him put in a box until I get there.”
    He sobbed on the elevator, too. With absolute relief, Eve jumped off at the first opportunity, shifted to the glides for the trip to the commander’s office.
    The admin showed her in immediately, shut the door.
    “Commander. Detective Peabody and I took Randall Stibble into custody. He gave up the partner.”
    “We’ll get to that. Sit down, Lieutenant.”
    Though she preferred standing, and he knew it, she sat, because his tone brooked no argument.
    “Sir.”
    “McQueen’s surfaced. He’s taken a hostage.”
    “A hostage?”
    “We assume hostage as she no longer fits his victim type.”
    “No longer fits.” Her belly clutched. “He’s taken one of his former victims. He has one of those girls. I never considered—I should have.” She shook it off; tried to shake it off. “How do we know she’s with McQueen?”
    “He left a message.” He paused at the knock, nodded when Dr. Mira came in.
    Now Eve felt a prickle at the back of her neck.
    “Eve.” Mira sat in the chair angled toward hers. Her face, as always, was quiet and lovely—but the worry in her eyes pushed Eve to her feet.
    “Commander.”
    “I want you to sit down, Dallas. I’ve asked Dr. Mira to join us as I—as we both—value her insight and opinion. I’ve already briefed her.”
    When she obeyed, he brought his chair over—something she’d