Survivor in Death Read Free

whimpered.
    She came back, hard, as if someone had slapped her. Not me, she told herself as she fought to get her breathing under control. Nothing like me.
    Nixie Swisher. She has a name. Nixie Swisher.
    “Nixie Swisher.” Eve said it out loud, and felt herself settle. The kid was alive, and there was a job to do.
    One quick survey told Eve none of the blood was the child's.
    Even with the punch of relief, the stiffening of spine, she wished for Peabody. Kids weren't her strong suit.
    “Hey.” She crouched, carefully tapped the badge she'd hooked to her waistband with a finger that was nearly steady now. “I'm Dallas. I'm a cop. You called us, Nixie.”
    The child's eyes were wide and glazed. Her teeth chattered.
    “I need you to come with me, so I can help you.” She reached out a hand, but the girl cringed back and made a sound like a trapped animal.
    Know how you feel, kid. Just how.
    “You don't have to be afraid. Nobody's going to hurt you.” Keeping one hand up, she reached in her pocket with the other for her communicator. “Peabody, I've got her. Master bath. Get up here.”
    Wracking her brain, Eve tried to think of the right approach. “You called us, Nixie. That was smart, that was brave. I know you're scared, but we're going to take care of you.”
    “They killed, they killed, they killed ...”
    “They?”
    Her head shook, like an old woman with palsy. “They killed, they killed my mom. I saw, I saw. They killed my mom, my dad. They killed--”
    “I know. I'm sorry.”
    “I crawled through the blood.” Eyes huge and glassy, she held out her smeared hands. “Blood.”
    “Are you hurt, Nixie? Did they see you? Did they hurt you?”
    “They killed, they killed--” When Peabody turned into the room, Nixie screamed as if she'd been stabbed. And launched herself into Eve's arms.
    Peabody stopped short, kept her voice very calm, very quiet. “I'll call Child Protection. Is she injured?”
    “Not that I can see. Shocky, though.”
    It felt awkward holding a child, but Eve wrapped her arms around Nixie and got to her feet. “She saw it. We've got not only a survivor, but an eye witness.”
    “We've got a nine-year-old kid who saw--” Peabody spoke in undertones as Nixie wept on Eve's shoulder, and jerked her head toward the bedroom.
    “I know. Here, take her and--” But when Eve tried to peel Nixie away, the child only wrapped herself tighter.
    “I think you're going to have to.”
    “Hell. Call GPS, get somebody over here. Start a record, room by room. I'll be back in a minute.”
    She'd hoped to pass the kid to one of the uniforms, but Nixie seemed glued to her now. Resigned, and wary, she carted Nixie down to the first floor, looked for a neutral spot, and settled on what looked like a playroom.
    “I want my mom. I want my mom.”
    “Yeah, I got that. But here's the thing: You've got to let go. I'm not going to leave you, but you gotta loosen the grip.”
    “Are they gone?” Nixie pushed her face into Eve's shoulder. “Are the shadows gone?”
    “Yes. You have to let go, sit down here. I have to do a couple of things. I need to talk to you.”
    “What if they come back?”
    “I won't let them. I know this is hard. The hardest.” At wit's end, she sat on the floor with Nixie still clinging to her. “I need to do a job, that's how I can help. I need to . . .” Jesus. “I need to get a sample from your hand, and then you can clean up. You'd feel better if you got cleaned up, right?”
    “I got their blood ...”
    “I know. Here, this is my field kit. I'm just going to take a swab for evidence. And I need to take a recording. Then you can go to the washroom over there and clean up. Record on,” Eve said, quietly, then eased Nixie back. “You're Nixie Swisher, right? You live here?”
    “Yeah, I want--”
    “And I'm Lieutenant Dallas. I'm going to swab your hand here, so you can clean up. It won't hurt.”
    “They killed my mom and my dad.”
    “I know. I'm sorry. Did you see