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“Lieutenant Dallas.” Colleen gripped Eve’s hand. It was stronger, firmer than Eve had expected. “Thank you so much for coming. I wonder—there’s a small privacy room upstairs. I wonder if you could spare a few minutes? I’d like to speak with you.”
“All right.”
She led Eve out of the dim parlor, up a set of stairs. Cops had spilled out, crowded there as well. But they stepped aside, eyes lowered respectfully as Colleen passed.
“My husband would like to meet you as well. And Lily. But I asked them if I could have this time alone with you. They understood.”
She opened a door, walked into a small sitting room. More flowers, soft fabrics just a little overdone in style, just a little too dark in their wine-red tones.
“These places are so horribly depressing, aren’t they? I wonder why they don’t let in the light.” Colleen walked to the window, threw open the heavy drapes, and let in the sun. “I suppose a lot of people find comfort in the shadows.
“Do you?” she asked Eve, then shook her head. “My thoughts are rambling. Please, sit down.”
Colleen took a chair, sat with her back very straight. “I’ve seen you on-screen. You always seem so competent, even when it’s coverage of one of those social functions you attend with your husband. He’s terribly handsome, isn’t he?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It was kind of him to come as well. To make the time, to speak to me, my husband, Lily. Very kind. Kevin spoke of you occasionally. You never worked with him, though, did you?”
“Not directly, no. But I often depend on EDD in my work. Hall . . . Kevin was a valued member of the department.”
“He admired you. I wanted to tell you,” she added, smiling a little at the blank look on Eve’s face. “He sometimes spoke of you working with Captain Feeney and the other young detective, Ian McNab. He was, I think, a little envious of your relationship with both Ian and the captain.”
“Mrs. Halloway—”
“I only tell you that so you might understand why he might have said or done the things he said or did when he was in such terrible trouble.”
“Mrs. Halloway, I don’t need an explanation. Kevin was ill, very ill, and none of what happened after they infected him was any fault of his.”
“It’s good to hear you say that. I heard the statements this morning. Both of them. I wasn’t sure if yours was just the departmental line, or if you meant it.”
“I did mean it. Every word of it.”
Colleen nodded. Her lips trembled once, then firmed. “I know what you did to try to save Kevin. I know you risked your own life to do so. And I know,” she continued as Eve started to speak, “that you’ll say you were doing your job. That’s what all of you say. But I want to thank you first as a mother, just as a mother.”
Her eyes swam and though she blinked to fight the tears, one spilled out and trailed down her cheek. “And I want to thank you for Kevin. Please . . . let me finish.”
Still she had to stop for a moment, clear her throat. “My son was proud to be a police officer. He believed in what that stood for, respected it, and gave his best. They might have taken that from him as well as his life if not for you. If not for you, his captain, his commander, his fellow officers . . . that pride and respect might have been taken from him. Instead . . .”
She reached into a small black purse and took out her son’s badge. “Instead, there’s honor. I’ll never forget it.” She leaned forward now, her expression intense. “Stop them. You will stop them.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll stop them.”
With a nod, Colleen leaned back again. “I’ve kept you long enough. I’m sure you have a great deal of work. I think I’d like to sit here in the light, for a little while.”
Eve rose and went to the door. Then she turned and said what was on her mind. “Mrs. Halloway? He must have been awfully proud of you, too.”
Again those lips curved, just a little. Again a single tear spilled down her cheek.
Eve slipped out and closed the door.
She was nearly to the stairs when Franco swooped up. Chang scurried in her wake like a pet dog. “We’ll talk now.”
When she headed for the privacy room, Eve caught her arm. “Mrs. Halloway’s in there.”
The impatience on Franco’s face faded. Her one last glance at the door was full of sympathy. Then that faded as well as she strode down the hallway, pushed her way into another room.
It was some sort of office, manned at the moment by a young woman at a gleaming wooden breakfront that had been modeled into a workstation.
