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She snorted as they climbed in. “You like to hotdog. That doesn’t make you better. Strap in, ace. I’m in a hurry.”
She punched it and sent them flying away from the terminal and onto a winding rural road that was lined with snow-laced trees and sheer rock.
Roarke programmed their destination and studied the route offered by the onboard computer. “Follow this road for two miles, turn left for another ten point three, then next left for five point eight.”
By the time he’d finished, she was already making the first left. She spotted a narrow creek, water fighting its way through ice, over rock. A scatter of houses, trees climbing steeply up hills, a few children playing with new airskates or boards in snow-covered yards.
“Why do people live in places like this? There’s nothing here. You see all that sky?” she asked Roarke. “You shouldn’t be able to see that much sky from down here. It can’t be good for you. And where do they eat? We haven’t passed a single restaurant, glide cart, deli, nothing.”
“Cozily?” Roarke suggested. “Around the kitchen table.”
“All the time? Jesus.” She shuddered.
He laughed, smoothed a finger over her hair. “Eve, I adore you.”
“Right.” She tapped the brakes to make the next turn. “What am I looking for?”
“Third house on the right. There, that two-story prefab, mini-truck in the drive.”
She slowed, scanning the house as she turned in behind the truck. There were Christmas lights along the eaves, a wreath on the door, and the outline of a decorated tree behind the front window.
“No point in asking you to wait in the car, I guess.”
“None,” he agreed and got out.
“They’re not going to be happy to see me,” Eve warned him as they crossed the shoveled walk to the front door. “If they refuse to talk to me, I’m going to give them some hard shoves. If it comes down to it, you just follow the lead.”
She pressed the buzzer, shivered.
“You should have worn the coat I gave you. Cashmere’s warm.”
“I’m not wearing that on duty.” It was gorgeous, she thought. And made her feel soft. It wasn’t the sort of thing that worked for a cop.
And when the door opened, Eve was all cop.
Helen Palmer had changed her hair and her eyes. Subtle differences in shades and shapes, but enough to alter her looks. It was still a pretty face, very like her son’s. Her automatic smile of greeting faded as she recognized Eve.
“You remember me, Mrs. Palmer?”
“What are you doing here?” Helen put a hand high on the doorjamb as if to block it. “How did you find us? We’re under protection.”
“I don’t intend to violate that. I have a crisis situation. You’d have been informed that your son has escaped from prison.”
Helen pressed her lips together, hunched her shoulders as a defense against the cold that whipped through the open door. “They said they were looking for him, assured us that they’d have him back in custody, back in treatment very soon. He isn’t here. He doesn’t know where we are.”
“Can I come in, Mrs. Palmer?”
“Why do you have to rake this all up again?” Tears swam into her eyes, seeming as much from frustration as grief. “My husband and I are just getting our lives back. We’ve had no contact with David in nearly three years.”
“Honey? Who’s at the door? You’re letting the cold in.” A tall man with a dark sweep of hair came smiling to the door. He wore an old cardigan sweater and ancient jeans with a pair of obviously new slippers. He blinked once, twice, then laid his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Lieutenant. Lieutenant Dallas, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Mr. Palmer. I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“Let them in, Helen.”
“Oh, God, Tom.”
“Let them in.” His fingers rubbed over her shoulder before he drew her back. “You must be Roarke.” Tom worked up what nearly passed for a smile as he offered Roarke his hand. “I recognize you. Please come in and sit down.”
