It smelled like girls, too mostly though she caught sight of what she thought were a couple of young boys loping off toward what was likely the kitchen area.
There were scents of polish and flowers and what she thought might be hair products. Tones of lemon and vanilla and the hard candy smell she always associated with groups of females.
There was a lot of color in the place as well as a lot of room. Cheerful color, comfortable furniture, spots for sitting alone, spots for conversation.
She saw immediately that the family room was the popular spot.
There were about a dozen women of various ages and races gathered there. Sitting on sofas, on the floor with the kids, who were also of various ages and races. They were talking, or sitting in silence, watching the entertainment screen or juggling babies on their laps.
She wondered why people were forever bouncing babies when it seemed from her wary observation that the perpetual motion only caused whatever was in their digestive systems to come spewing out. Of either end.
Not all the babies appeared to appreciate it, either. One of them was burbling in what might have been contentment, but two others were making sounds very reminiscent of emergency vehicles on the run.
It didn't seem to bother anyone, particularly. Certainly not the field of kids on the floor, playing or bickering over their chosen activities.
"Ladies." Conversation died off as the women looked toward the doorway. Children shut up like clams. Babies continued to wail or burble.
"I'd like to introduce you to Lieutenant Dallas and Detective Peabody." In the moment's pause, Eve saw the reaction to the thought of cops. The drawing into self, the nervous flicker of eyes, the gathering closer of children.
The abuser might be the enemy and Louise the ally, but cops, Eve thought, were the unknown and could fall into either camp.
"Lieutenant Dallas is Roarke's wife, and this is her first visit." There was relief for some the easing of tension in faces and bodies, even tentative smiles. And for others, the suspicion remained.
It wasn't just a mix of ages and races. There was also a mix of injuries. Fresh bruises, fading ones. Mending bones.
Mending lives.
She knew their apprehension; felt it herself. And hated that while Louise looked at her expectantly, her skin was going cold, and her throat shutting down.
"It's a nice place you've got here," she managed.
"It's a miracle." The woman who spoke stood up. She limped slightly as she crossed the room. Eve pegged her at around forty, and from the looks of her face, she'd taken a nasty and recent beating. She held out a hand to Eve. "Thank you." She didn't want to take the hand offered. Didn't want the connection, but there was no choice as the woman looked at her with expectation, and horribly, with gratitude. "I didn't do anything." "You're Roarke's wife. If I'd had the courage to come to a place like this, to go to the police, to look for help before now, my daughter wouldn't be hurt." She turned slightly, gestured toward a girl with dark curly hair, and a skincast on her right arm. "Come say hello to Lieutenant Dallas, Abra." The girl obeyed, and though she pressed her body against her mother's legs, she stared curiously up at Eve. "The police stop people from hurting you. Maybe." "Yeah. They try to." "My daddy hurt me, so we had to go away." There would be a horrible snapping sound when the bone broke. A terrible and bright pain. A flood of greasy nausea.
A red haze of shock over the eyes.
Eve felt it all again as she stood there, staring down at the girl. She wanted to step back, far, far back. Away from it.
"You're okay now." Her voice sounded thin and distant under the roaring in her ears.
"He hurts my mama. He gets mad and he hurts her. But this time I didn't hide in my room like she said, and he hurt me, too." "He broke her arm." Tears flooded the woman's bruised eyes. "It took that to wake me up." "You don't blame yourself, Marly," Louise said gently.
"We can stay here with Dr Louise, and nobody hurts you, and nobody yells or throws things."
"It's a good place." Peabody hunkered down as much to take the focus off Eve as to speak to the child. Her lieutenant looked ill. "I bet there's lots to do." "We have chores, and teachers. You have to do your chores and go to school. Then you can play. There's a lady upstairs, and she's having a baby." "Is that so?" Peabody glanced back at Louise. "Now?" "First-stage labor. We have full obstetric and natal facilities, and a midwife on staff full-time. Try to keep off that leg as much as possible for another twenty-four, Marly." "I will. It's better. A lot better. Everything is." "We really need to speak with you, Louise." "All right, we'll just…" Louise trailed off as she got a look at Eve's face. "Are you okay?" "Fine. I'm fine. A little pressed for that time, that's all." "We'll head up to my office." Deliberately, she laid her fingers on Eve's wrist as they walked back toward the stairs.
"Your skin's clammy," she murmured. "Pulse is rapid and thready, and you've gone pale. Let me take you into Exam." Tm just tired." She eased away. "We're running on two hours" sleep. I don't need a doctor, I need an interview." "Okay, all right, but you don't get the interview unless you down a protein booster." There was activity on the second floor as well. Voices behind closed doors. And weeping.
Therapy sessions," Louise explained. "Sometimes they can get intense. Moira, a moment?" Two women were standing outside of what Eve assumed was another therapy room or office. One turned, and her gaze skipped over Louise and fastened on Eve. She murmured something to her companion, gave her a long hug, then started down the hall.
Eve knew who she was. Moira O'Bannion, formerly of Dublin. The woman who'd known Roarke's mother, and after more than thirty years had told him that what he'd known of his beginnings was a lie based on murder.
Sickness curdled in Eve's belly.
"Moira O'Bannion, Eve Dallas, Delia Peabody." "I'm so glad to meet you. I hope Roarke is well." "He's good. He's fine." Sweat began to slide like cold grease down her spine.
"Moira's one of our treasures. I stole her." Moira laughed. "Recruited, we'll say. Though dragooned wouldn't be far off. Louise is fierce. You're having the tour." "Not exactly. It's not a social call." "Ah. I should let you get to business then. How's Jana doing?" "Four centimeters dilated, thirty percent effaced last check.
She's got a ways to go." "Let me know when she's ready, will you? We're all excited about the new baby." Moira smiled at Peabody. "It's good to meet you both, and I hope you won't be strangers. My very best to Roarke," she said to Eve and stepped out of their way.
"Moira's brilliant," Louise said as she led the way to the next level. "She's making a big difference here. I've been able to ha dragoon some of the best therapists, doctors, psychiatrists, and counselors in the city. I bless the day you stomped into my clinic downtown, Dallas. It was the start of the twisty path that led me here." She opened a door, gestured them inside. "Not to mention leading me to Charles." Briskly, she walked to a cabinet, and opened it to reveal a minifridgie. "Which reminds me, we're setting up that dinner party I keep trying to pull off. Night after tomorrow, Charles's place it's cozier than mine eight o'clock. Suit you and McNab, Peabody?" "Sure. Sounds like fun." "I've cleared it with Roarke." She handed both Eve and Peabody a bottled protein booster.