Echoes in Deathhits bookshelves Feb. 7.
Read the first chapter below.
She felt like a ghost, untethered and insubstantial.
Credit: Bruce Wilder
Everything around her seemed blurred, faded, and unimportant.
If so, death was the same as life.
What difference did it make, really?
Could death be a kind of freedom?
But freedom from what?
Something, something scraped like tiny fingernails on the edges of her minda need to run, to hide.
But why?Why?
What was the point of it all?
What would death need to hide from?
The dead could sleep, couldnt they?
Just sleep, sleep, sleep.
And yet, she felt as if shed just woken, still groggy and vague.
Puzzled, yes, but detached, and wondering if shed reached heaven or hell.
There was something oddly familiar about the faded colors and blurry shapes here.
Colors suddenly so strong they hurt her eyes, shapes so sharp they might slice and gash.
Then they faded and blurred again, and there was comfort in that.
Odd, quiet comfort.
she caught a scent, yes, yes, the rich and funereal scent of lilies.
Lilies and blood, surely that meant death.
She should just lie down, lie down and sleep.
Lie down and just go away.
Surely someone would come tell her where to go next, what to do next.
Could the dead fear?
She paused when she came to a door, stared at it.
She saw a hand reach for the knob.
Was it her hand?
Something was wrong with it.
Something was wrong with the knob.
It moved, sneaking just out of reach, right, left, up, down.
A kind of game, she thought, smiling a little.
The hand reached for the knob, drew back.
Reached again, swept right, then left.
Then closed around the sneaky knob.
So she laughed in a sound that was thin and tinny and very, very far away.
In or out, out or in.
The door opened; she walked through.
Bright and dark was the world of the dead.
Surrendering, she walked into it.
Whod invented the charity winter ball anyway?
Sane people wanted to stay home in warm, comfortable clothes when February reared its ugly frozen head.
Maybe 2061 had started off with a bangnearly literallyin the professional sense, and murder and mayhem had followed.
But come Monday, shed be back in the saddle, wearing boots and sensible clothes.
Carrying badge and weapon.
Not that she didnt have the badge and weapon with herstuffed into the silly, sparkly purse.
Lieutenant Eve Dallas always had her badge and weapon.
That, she decided, violated the spirit, if not the letter, of those Marriage Rules.
He laughed, kissed her again before he slid away from the curb.
You hated nine out of every ten minutes in there.
Maybe seven and a half out of every ten.
It was nice seeing Charles and Louise and the Miras.
I was okay, right?
She snorted that away.
Shes never stood over a body or had to tell someone the person they loved is gone.
And so has no idea the heart and compassion those duties require.
Yeah, well, I didnt punch heror anybody.
A little smug about it, she snuggled more comfortably in the seat.
Now we can go home, get out of these duds.
I enjoyed seeing you in your duds almost as much as Ill enjoy getting you out of them.
And we can sleep late tomorrow, right?
Naked, bloody, eyes wide and empty as moons, the woman continued to walk.
Shes near to frozen, he said to Eve.
Are you an angel?
Then those wide eyes rolled up white as she crumpled.
Get her into the car.
Is there a blanket in the back?
He carried the woman to the car, laid her in the warmth as Eve grabbed a blanket.
Im back here with her.
Toss me that stupid purse thing.
Closest hospital is St. Andrews.
He tossed Eve her bag, got behind the wheel, and floored it.
Eve pulled out her link, contacted the hospital.
This is Dallas, Lieutenant Eve.
She rattled off her badge number.
She judged Roarkes speed.
Someone tuned her up, choked her, and, odds are high, raped her.
Shes got some cuts, plenty of abrasions, but I dont think all this bloods hers.
She cant have been wandering around in that state very long.
Not only because its barely into the single digits, but someone would have seen her.
Blood in her hair, Eve murmured, probing.
She took a hit, back of the head.
Wishing shed grabbed her field kit, she did a visual exam of the hands, the nails.
Then glanced up when Roarke swung into the turn for the ER.
She hadnt given them much notice, but two doctors or nurses who could tellstood outside with a gurney.
Eve shoved the door open even as Roarke braked.
Shes been choked rope, scarfhas a head wound, likely from a blunt object.
She needs a rape kit.
As she spoke, Eve moved out of the way while they transferred the woman to the gurney.
He glanced back at Eve and Roarke.
I need any information you have.
They banged through the doors of an exam room where more medicals waited.
On three they lifted the unconscious woman from gurney to table.
Core temps ninety-one point four, someone shouted over the rest.
Ill get the car out of the way, Roarke murmured to Eve.
And be back with you.
IVs, warming blankets, poking, prodding.
God, she hated hospitals.
Tell me what you know.
The doctor, Eve assumed, glanced briefly at Eve while he worked.
She stepped out into the streetCarnegie Hill.
Just like you see her.
Walking like shed had a few too many, shocky, speech slurred.
She asked my husband if he was an angel, then passed out.
Core temps ninety-three point two and rising.
I need you to bag her hands, Eve said.
After I get her prints.
Not all that bloods hers.
Just let me finish saving her life first.
Eve gave them room, kept her eyes on the womans face.
Young, very attractive under the bruising.
Mixed racesome Asian, some black.
Slight build, no more than a hundred and ten on a little over five feet.
Manicured fingersvery pale pink nails, same for the toes.
Pierced ears but no earrings.
No tats shed seen.
Nearly waist-length black hair, in knots and tangles.
She stepped out, started running a facial recognition with the photo shed taken in the car.
Might not work, she knew, considering the battering that face had taken.
She looked up as Roarke walked toward her, with her field kit.
I thought youd want it.
I do, thanks.
If she doesnt come to by the time theyve finished, I need her prints for ID.
Shes going to be from that general area.
So she lives or works in the Carnegie Hill area, or was there when she was attacked.
She looked back at the exam room doors.
No blood or skin under her nailsat least not that shows on a visual.
Youre worried someone was with her, someone else was attacked.
Ive got to put it as a possibility.
Her vitals are stabilizing, and her core temperatures up to ninety-six plus.
She has a concussion.
She was raped, more than once, and violently.
Youll have your kit there.
The drunken walking and the slurred words are likely from the hypothermia and shock.
Were running a tox, but thats most likely.
I need her prints.
Not all her blood, Eve reminded him before he could object.
Someone else might be out there in the same condition as she is.
I ID her, maybe it leads us to saving another life tonight.
Sorry, didnt think of it.
He rubbed at his eyes.
You probably saved her life getting her here so fast.
Sure as hell saved her from brain damage.
Eve accepted his hand.
Yeah, that got through about two minutes ago.
He shook Roarkes hand in turn.
Nice dress, he said to Eve.
We were at a thing.
Hope your cleaners can get the blood out of it.
Lets get your ID.
Somebodys probably worried about her.
They stepped back inside.
I want pictures of the injuries, Eve said.
But ID came first.
Strazza, Daphne, age twenty-four.
Got an address about two blocks from where we found her.
She glanced up, saw Dels face.
No, never met her.
But I know her husband.
Everybody in this hospital knows Anthony Strazza.
Lets keep that under wraps until I can .
Eve saw the long, dark lashes flutter.
Then the eyesalmond shaped and strikingly, softly greenopened.
Del held up a hand to stop Eve as he leaned over Daphne.
Youre in the hospital.
Nobodys going to hurt you.
Those eyes darted around the room.
As her breathing began to rush and hitch, Del took her hand.
Youre okay, he repeated.
Im going to give you something for the pain.
No, no, no.
Okay, okay, well wait on that.
His voice stayed calm, stayed easy.
I just want you to relax, he continued, to breathe slow.
Can you tell us what happened to you?
I think I was dead.
Her gaze landed on Eve.
What do you remember?
Or the world did.
Can you remember before that?
We had dinner, a dinner party.
Dinner for fifty at eight, with cocktails beginning at seven-thirty.
I wore the Dior with the crusted pearl trim.
The wines were
Thats okay, what happened after dinner?
Our guests left at eleven-thirty.
If Id planned better, theyd have left at eleven.
My husband has rounds in the morning.
Hes very busy.Hes a surgeon, so respected, so talented.
Wed normally go to bed after the guests left, and the house droids cleared up.
Wed go to bed, and
Her breathing shortened again.
This time Eve gripped her hand before Del could interfere.
Youre safe, but you gotta tell me what happened when you went up to bed.
Someone in the house.
She whispered it, like a secret.
A devil, its a devil!
His face is a devil.
He fell and the devil laughed.
She began to sob, tried to curl up into herself.
Thats it, Del snapped at Eve.
She needs to rest.
Give her some time.
Im going to check under her nails.
If she got a piece of who did this, I need it.
The visual with microgoggles showed nothing, but she got her tools, gently scraped.
Either she didnt fight back, or didnt get the chance.
Eve studied the ligature marks on the wrists.
If she tells you anything else, I need to hear about it.
Ill be back in a few hours, and Ill be assigning a uniform to sit on her room.
Eve stepped out with Roarke.
Are you assigning a uniform to keep someone out, or to keep her in?
I dont know yet.
She pulled out her link as they walked.
Lets go check on Anthony Strazza.
The surgeon had more than twenty years on his wifehis second wife, Eve noted.
Wife number onedivorced five years ago currently lived in Australia and had not remarried.
No updated employment listed.
As trophy wives went, Eve supposed Daphne fit the bill.
Young, beautiful when her face hadnt been pummeled.
Probably an excellent hostess with the event-planning bent.
Eve wondered, though she was Roarkes first and only spouse, if some considered her a trophy.
You didnt get a shiny prize.
Im fond of shiny prizes, he said.
Why didnt I get one?
As trophies go, Id be in the dull-and-dented category.
Not in the least.
But then again, youre no trophy.
She got out, navigating from curb to sidewalk in the stupid fancy- girl shoes.
If Id wanted a trophy, Id have one, wouldnt I?
He took her hand, rubbed his thumb over her wedding ring.
I much prefer my cop.
Youre thinking of Daphne Strazza, and the generational difference in age with her husband.
How do you know?
You havent had time to do a run.
Simple enough as Strazzas a surgeon of some reputeand the name rings a dim bell.
Hes bound to be twenty years or so older than she.
First, close to his age, divorced after about a dozen years.
She gave the house a study.
Three stories of old elegance, New York style.
Strazza had merged two townhomes into one, widening one entrance to highlight the main with carved double doors.
The same ironwork flanked the three steps leading from sidewalk to entrance.
And there, Eve noted, he had top-of-the-line security.
Cam, palm plate, intercom, double swipe, she said as they approached.
He paid for the dignified look, but hes got a pair of high- end police locks on here.
Audio, visual, and motion alarms.
The thought of those days as a master thief brought a nostalgic smile to his lips.
Its quiet, settled, and inside?
Thats where all the goodies are.
Art, jewelry, cash as well.
If we were back in the day, how long would it take you to compromise the security?
His hair blowing in the wind, Roarke angled his head to study the locks.
With proper due diligence and preparation?
Two or three, Id say.
Likely closer to two.
He wasnt bragging, she mused.
Just stating a fact.
Eve rang the bell.
She expected an automated comp response, but got nothing at all.
Id call that a security lapse.
No warning, no response from the system, no attempt to scan.
As they waited, Roarke took out his PPC, ran some sort of scan of his own.
The systems down, he told Eve.
Deactivated, and the door, Lieutenant, is unlocked.
Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and expert civilian consultant Roarke entering unsecured residence of Anthony Strazza.
Two attempts at contact elicited no response.
There is reason to believe Strazza is injured or under duress.
I have armed the civilian.
She shoved fire up the door, went in low.
Roarke went in high.
She swept the foyer.
Weve got bloodand footprints through it.
Bare feetprobably
Daphne Strazzas.
She gestured him one way, went the other, each calling out Clear!
when theyd swept a room.
She didnt need Roarke to tell her someone had walked off with some trinkets.
She spotted a couple of empty wall nichesand the dinner-party debris no house droids had dealt with.
They rounded back, started up to the second floor, once again separated.
She found all three in the spacious suite with its wide bed flanked with high posts of burnished gold.
Like the floor, drops and smears of blood marred the knotted white linens.
A chair with gold finish lay with its back broken and trailing duct tapebloodied and ragged.
Trampled white lilies swam in a pool of blood or scattered bruised petals over the white and gold carpet.
Still fully dressed, he wore a dark gray suit with a paler gray shirt.
Cuff links winked at his wrists.
Ive got a body!
Roarke joined her, standing in the doorway with her.
No one does this to stealand then not take so much thats easily transported.
Maybe it got out of hand, Eve said.
We still have to dump the third floor.
Why dont you do that, as we both know whoever did this is long gone.
Ill go out and get your field kit.
Long gone, Eve agreed, but procedure was procedure for a reason.
And an open safe built into a small cabinet.
She went down as Roarke came up.
Nearly empty safe on three.
At a quick glance it didnt look compromised.
I lean toward the assailant beating the code out of Strazza, but you could check it out.
She looked down at her shoesneedle-thin heels attached to her feet by a bunch of glittery straps.
Havent cleared the closets or the master bath.
Why dont you seal up and do that?
I need to officially ID the vic, call it in.
Youll be getting Peabody up early, I take it.
Its never early when youre a cop.
I need real clothes, damn it.
Ill take care of that.
she demanded when he put the can back in her kit.
By getting Summerset up early.
She thought of Roarkes majordomo, the pain in her ass.
Your choice whether to do what you do more comfortably or in formal wear.
And my regular coat.
And
He knows what to send along.
Another safe in the closethis closetopen and empty.
Straps, as narrow and sparkly as those on the discarded shoes, crisscrossed over her bare back.
She pressed dead fingers to her Identi-pad.
Victim identity verified as Anthony Strazza of this address.
She took out a gauge.
COD to be determined by ME, but by visual exam of primary, most likely the skull fracture.
That would do it, Roarke said from behind her.
No safe in the wifes closet.
Id suggest the one in his is large enough to hold her jewelry and any he might have had.
And Ill take a look at the one upstairs.
Check the security feed first, would you?
He likely cleared it out or compromised it, but we could get lucky.
And the doors and alarms.
No, just a really big bonus to top off rape and murder.
She started to reach for her link.
My links in that shiny thing.
No, its in your field kit, and the shiny things now empty in the car.
Oh, yeah, here it is.
Look, Im going to tell Peabody to bring McNab, as this place is loaded with electronics.
You could head home, catch some sleep.
When he just raised his eyebrows, she shrugged.
I can tell you the .
intruder bashed the components in the security room.
He likes violenceanimate or inanimate.
Whatever you’re free to get.
Ill see what I can do.
Alone, Eve looked down at the body, thought about just what one human could do to another.
And called it in.
Excerpted from the bookEchoes in Death,by J.D.
Copyright 2017 by Robb.
Reprinted with permission of St. Martins Press.
