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“You wait for the warrant,” she told McNab. “Once we confirm Juanita’s here, or confirm her location, Peabody will relay that information. You can make your way to her apartment.”

“I don’t see how I can relay information when I’m supposed to shut up—and if I wasn’t supposed to, I still wouldn’t be speaking to him.”

“Do you really want to experience the thrill of having my boot so far up your ass it bruises your tonsils? Don’t even think about it,” Eve snapped at McNab when he snickered. “Detective Jerk, stand by. Detective Bleeding Heart, with me.”

She strode off. In seconds, Peabody clipped along beside her, insult in every step. “Be pissed later,” Eve advised. “There’s nothing about this that’s going to be pleasant or satisfying. So do the job now, and be pissed later.”

“I just think I ought to be able to express an opinion without being—”

Eve stopped, whirled. Fire kindled and flashed in her eyes as she scorched Peabody with them. “Do you think I’m looking forward to hauling in a woman who had to bury the torn and bloody pieces of her son that could be scraped up off the floor? That I’m rubbing my hands with glee at the prospect of putting her in the box and sweating a confession out of her for killing the man who I believe was responsible for that?”

“No.” Peabody’s shoulders drooped. “No, I don’t.”

The fire shut down, and Eve’s eyes went cop flat. “Personal opinion, feelings, sympathy—none have any place in this. This is the job, and we’re going to do it.”

Eve pulled open the door and stepped inside to the morning chaos. Crying babies, harassed parents, squealing kids milled around—including one who appeared to be making a break for it, at surprising speed on all fours.

Peabody scooped it up before it could make it to the door, then passed it to the man rushing after it.

Eve wound her way through, caught Magda’s attention. “Juanita Turner.”

“Oh, Nita’s riding herd on the earlies in the activity room. That way.” Magda signaled. “Through the double doors, up the stairs one level. Second door, left. It’s open.”

When Peabody started to pull out her communicator, Eve shook her head. “Not until we see her. In all this insanity, she could have walked out.”

Eve followed the direction, and the noise. The activities room held tables, chairs, shelves full of what she supposed were activities. Sunlight blasted through the windows to wash a space done in aggressively bright primary colors. Six kids sat at tables, drawing, doing puzzles, and talking at the top of their lungs at the same time.

Juanita walked among them, looking over shoulders, patting heads. The easy smile she wore dropped away when she saw Eve. If guilt had a face, Eve thought, Juanita Turner wore it.

Eve gestured, stepped just outside the doorway. “Tag McNab,” she mumbled to Peabody. “Step off aways.”

She waited until Juanita walked to the doorway. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“You’re going to need to have someone cover for you, Mrs. Turn

er.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You know why. You have to come with us now. We can do it quietly.” Eve glanced beyond Juanita to the half a dozen kids. “It would be better for you, for the kids, if we do this quietly.”

“I’m not leaving the children. I’m not—”

“Do you want those kids to see me take you out of here in restraints?” Eve waited two beats, watched it sink in. “You’re going to get someone to cover for you, Mrs. Turner, and I’m going to arrange for you to be taken down to Central. You’re going to wait there until I come to question you.”

The thin skin of outrage couldn’t cover the bones of fear. They poked through, raw and sharp. “I don’t see why I should go with you when I don’t know what this is about.”

“I’m going to have Penny Soto in custody by the end of the day, Mrs. Turner.” Eve nodded at the jolt of awareness. “You understand exactly what this is about. Now choose how you want it to go down.”

Juanita walked across the hall, spoke briefly to the young man inside. He looked puzzled, and mildly irritated, but crossed over into the activities room.

“I don’t have to say anything.” Juanita’s lips trembled on the words.

“No, you don’t.” Eve took her arm, led her down the stairs, led her out of the building. And waited until they were on the sidewalk, away from the kids still shooting hoops, before she read Juanita her rights.

At Central, she had Juanita taken to an interview room and split off to her own office. She had some arrangements to make. As she turned toward the bullpen, she spotted Joe Inez and his wife on the waiting bench. Joe rose.

“Ah, the guy said you were on your way, so . . .”

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