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“He’s down in one-A”

“Then tell him to stay put I’ll take his statement when I’m done here”

She stepped inside, closed the door Eve, no longer a rookie, didn’t feel her stoht of the body, the torn flesh, or the blood-splattered child’s toys

But her heart ached

Then caer, a sharp red spear of it when she spotted the antique weapon cradled in the arms of a teddy bear

“She was just a kid”

It was seven AM Eve hadn’t been hoh and restless sleep at her office desk between computer searches and reports Without a Code Five attached to Lola Starr, Eve was free to access the data banks of the International Resource Center on Criminal Activity So far, IRCCA had come up empty on matches

Now, pale with fatigue, jittery with the false energy of false caffeine, she faced Feeney

“She was a pro, Dallas”

“Her fucking license was barely three months old There were dolls on her bed There was Kool-Aid in her kitchen”

She couldn’t get past it—all those silly, girlish things she’d had to paw through while the victim’s pitiful body lay on the cheap, fussy pillows and dolls Enraged, Eve slapped one of the official photos onto her desk

“She looks like she should have been leading cheers at the high school Instead, she’s running tricks and collecting pictures of fancy apartetting into?”

“I don’t figure she thought she’d end up dead,” Feeney said evenly “You want to debate the sex codes, Dallas?”

“No” Wearily, she looked down at her hard copy again “No, but it bums me, Feeney A kid like this”

“You know better than that, Dallas”