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“Oh, God, stop. You have to stop.”

“Did Rayleen spend time with her? Watching her, asking questions? She likes to know things, doesn’t she? Rayleen likes to know.”

“She liked Craig Foster. He was her favorite teacher.”

“But you wonder. And Williams. Rayleen volunteers in hospital wards. She’s a clever girl. She could get her hands on a syringe, on drugs if she put her mind to it.”

“Then she’d be a monster. Do you want me to say that?” Hysteria bubbled up in her voice, and her streaming eyes went wild. “Do you want me to say my daughter’s a monster? She came from me.” She fisted a hand on her belly. “From me and Oliver. We loved her from the first beat of her heart.”

“The way you loved Trevor. If I’m wrong,” Eve said when Allika’s face crumbled, “then reading her diary isn’t going to hurt anything or anyone. If I’m right, she’ll get help before anyone else is hurt.”

“Get it, then. Take it away. Take it away and leave me alone.”

They searched. They went over every inch of the bedroom, the playroom. They turned out drawers, emptied the closet, searched among the toys, the art supplies.

“Maybe she hid it in another part of the house,” Peabody suggested.

“Or has it with her. Either way, we’ll get it. The fact that it exists has some weight. We need to interview the aunt, and get some eyes on the kid right away. If she’s got it, I don’t want her mother shifting her feet, and getting word to the kid we’re looking for it. Let’s—hell.”

She broke off to pull out her communicator. “Dallas.”

“Lieutenant, report to my office. Immediately.”

“Sir, I’m at this moment in the process of gathering evidence I believe will lead to an arrest on the Foster and Williams investigations.”

“I want you in my office, Lieutenant Dallas, before you take any further steps. Is that clear?”

“Sir, it’s clear. I’m on my way. Fuck,” she added after she’d ended the transmission. She glanced at her wrist unit, calculated. “Museum tour. Met. Get there, shadow the suspect.”

“But Dallas, the commander ordered—”

“Me. He didn’t say anything about you. I want you to locate the suspect and keep her under surveillance. Keep me apprised. Don’t let her make you, Peabody.”

“Well, Jesus, she’s ten. I think I can shadow a tweener without being made.”

“This tweener is the prime suspect in two homicides, and very possibly guilty of fratricide as well. You’re not shadowing a kid, Peabody, and don’t forget it.”

She dumped Peabody at the elegant entrance of the Metropolitan Museum, then headed downtown. As she drove, she contacted one Quella Harmon in Taos, New Mexico.

Even as Peabody climbed the long sweep of steps, she wondered how the hell she was supposed to find one kid and her Irish au pair in the vast cathedral to art.

And as she wondered, Cora bundled Rayleen into a cab on Eighty-first Street.

“But Mom’s supposed to meet us, and take me to lunch.”

“Well, she’s rung me up, hasn’t she, and said she needs you home straightaway. So home we go, Ray darling.”

Rayleen gave a windy sigh, and clutched her pretty pink fur purse.

Both Mira and Whitney were waiting for her, and both looked grim.

“Sit down, Lieutenant.”

With no choice, Eve sat.

“Your partner?”

“She’s in the field, sir.”

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