Reunion in Death

He went back to the car first. He wanted to get her away from the alley, to give her time to gather her resources. While she sat, head back, eyes closed, he took out his PPC and began the search.

«You've put a lot into one day already, Eve.»

«I want to finish it.»

The year before he'd finally gone back to the alley where his father had met someone meaner, someone quick enough to jam a knife in his throat. And he remembered the fury, the pain, and the ultimate release he'd experienced standing there as a man, looking down, and knowing it was finished.

«It's still there.» He told her and saw her flinch. «The name's changed, but it's still a hotel. It's called The Traveler's Inn now, and rates three stars. It's fucking three miles from here.»

When she opened her eyes, looked at him, he shook his head. «I'm with you, but by Christ, Eve, it's punishing to know you walked all that way, hurt and hungry and lost.»

«Is that why you went alone when you went back to where you'd lived in Dublin? Because you didn't want to share that punishment with me?»

He shoved the PPC back in his pocket. «Give me a bit of room, would you, for wanting to tuck you up safe when I can manage it.»

«You're churned up.» She swiped the back of her hand over her damp face, didn't know if it was wet from sweat or tears. «The Irish gets thicker when you're churned up.»

«Bugger it.»

«I feel better because you're churned up. Go figure.» She leaned over to touch her lips to his cheek. «Thanks.»

«Happy to help. You're ready then?»

«Yeah.»

Nothing looked particularly familiar. She thought they'd come in at night. Maybe at night. On a bus. Maybe on a bus.

What the hell did it matter?

The city itself wasn't a huge revelation to her. There was no sudden epiphany with all questions answered. She didn't know if she wanted all questions answered, only that she needed to do this one thing.

Wanted to do this one thing, she corrected. But despite the climate control that kept the interior of the car comfortably cool, a line of sweat dribbled down her back.

Roarke swung to the curb, held up a hand to hold off the uniformed doorman who hustled over. «Take your time,» he told Eve. «Take whatever time you need.»

The building was a simple block with a rippled tile roof. But it was painted a pleasant stucco pink now, and rather than the lurid sign, there was a shady portico and a couple of big concrete tubs filled with a rainbow of flowers.

«Are you sure this is right?» She felt his hand close gently over hers. «Yeah, of course you're sure. It didn't look like this.»

«It was rehabbed in the late forties. From the looks of it, I'd say most of this area got the same treatment.»

«It won't be the same inside either. This is probably a waste of time, and I should be talking to the locals about Dunne.»

He said nothing, just waited her out.

«I'm so scared. I'm so fucking scared. I can't even work up any spit in my mouth. If this was the job, I'd just do it. You just go through the door.»

«I'm going through the door with you.» He kissed her hand again, because he needed it. «We've been through others. We can go through this one.»

«Okay.» She sucked in a breath. «Okay.» And got out of the car.

She didn't know what Roarke said to the doorman, or how much money changed hands, but the car remained parked where it was.

There was a roaring in her head she knew was fear, adrenaline, and dread. It remained there, dimming her hearing so that it was like walking through water as they entered the lobby.

The floors were a sea of blues, and added to the sensation of passing through some thin liquid. There were pleasant seating areas arranged, and a bank of elevators with silver doors to one side, a long check-in counter on the other where two bright-faced young clerks worked.

There were white carnations in the buttonholes of their snappy red jackets, and a generous bowl of hard candy on the counter.

«He had funny eyes.» She stared at the tidy check-in area and remembered the grubby rat hole where a single droid had worked. «One wandered everywhere and the other stared right at you. He smelled, like burning. Fucking droid's blown some circuits. That's what he said. You just stay there, little girl. Stay there with the bags and keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you. And he went up to the counter and got a room.»

«What room?»

«Nine-one-one. Emergency. Better not call 911 or he'll beat the shit out of you. Oh God.»

«Look at me. Eve, look at me.»

She did, and saw so much in his face. Concern, fury, and hints of grief. «I can do it. I can do this.» She took a step toward check-in, then his hand took hers again.

«Good afternoon.» The female clerk spilled welcome all over them. «Will you be checking in today?»

«We need room 911,» Roarke told her.

«And do you have a reservation?»

«Nine-one-one,» Roarke repeated.