Faithless in Death (In Death #52) - J.D. Robb Page 0,88
and we’re going to keep you safe.”
To get her moving again, Eve put an arm around her waist. “Just a little bit farther.” Gently, Eve took the ’link out of Zoe’s hand. “Operator Harris.”
“Right here, Lieutenant.”
“I’ve got her now. Thank you for your assistance.”
“Glad to help. Zoe, give Gabe a kiss for me. Operator out.”
“She—she sang to him. He cried when I woke him up, and she sang to him. Are you taking me to the police station? If he finds me there—”
“No.”
Zoe shook harder when Roarke got out of the car. But he only smiled and opened the back door.
“He’s with me,” Eve repeated. “You’re safe.”
“Am I going to jail?”
“No. Trust me now, Zoe. You trusted me enough to call me, to ask for help. Trust me to help you.”
“He said the police would take me to jail and I’d never see Gabe again.”
“He lied.”
Still shuddering, Zoe cuddled her son and climbed in the back.
“I’m going to sit in the back with her,” Eve said.
Nodding, Roarke waited. He saw the little boy look at him with sad, sleepy eyes.
When he got behind the wheel again, Eve shifted, started to speak to Zoe. But the woman pressed her face to Eve’s shoulder and wept, wept, wept.
Saying nothing, Eve put her arms around Zoe, and Roarke drove her to safety.
17
When they arrived at Dochas, two women stood at the door. One Eve judged as mid-forties, the other about a decade younger. Both dressed casually and wore sympathetic smiles.
“Welcome to Dochas,” the older one told Zoe. “You’re safe here.”
“What is it?” Zoe looked around in wonder laced with fear.
“Home as long as you need it.”
“You have a very sleepy little man there.” The younger one pumped up her smile. “And so handsome. It’s Gabriel, isn’t it? I’m Natalie, and this is Gracie. Would you like to go up, get him settled in your room?”
Zoe just wrapped tighter around her son.
“I need to talk to Zoe. Maybe we can do that down here. Zoe, why don’t you let Natalie take your bag up to your room? You need to trust me,” she added when Zoe stayed frozen.
“It’s hard,” Gracie said softly. “It’s hard to trust when you’ve been so afraid. Did you know Lieutenant Dallas and Roarke built this house, this lovely house, to keep women who’ve been afraid safe? Women and their children.”
Eyes still wide and wary, Zoe looked around again. “There are other women here, and kids?”
“Yes, and they’re all safe. Why don’t you come in here with your sweet boy, and you can sit and talk to Lieutenant Dallas? Nat can take your bag. How about some coffee, or tea?”
“I can’t have coffee, thank you. I’m pregnant.”
“And how far along are you?” Gracie asked as she gently led Zoe into a pretty parlor.
“Seventeen weeks.” When the baby started fussing, Zoe jiggled him. “I think he’s hungry. He’s not used to me waking him up like this, and—”
“Are you nursing?”
“I’m starting to wean him. My husband wants to wean him, but—”
“It would be a comfort to you both now with all this upheaval. Sit here now and feed your baby. Some tea for you? A nice soothing tea. Lieutenant, Roarke?”
“Coffee’s good. Black for both of us, thanks.” Eve sat across from Zoe.
“I’ll give you a hand with that, Gracie.” Roarke stepped out.
“This is your house?” Zoe asked Eve.
“No, it’s your house, and the others who come here. Why don’t we start with your full name?”
“Zoe Metcalf. I was Zoe Brown before I got married.”
“When was that?”
“Two years ago.”
“You’re a member of Natural Order.”
“Yes. No. Yes.” Tears leaked as she shifted the baby. She unbuttoned her shirt, and smoothly flipped a flap on her bra. The baby latched on like a leech. “Harley said I had to join so we could get married. So I signed the papers, and we got married, and he brought me to New York.”
“From where?”
“From Ohio.”
“How old are you, Zoe?”
“I’m twenty-one—or I will be next month. I thought it would be wonderful to be married, and exciting to live in New York. But it’s not. I’m only allowed to go to the store or to one of the neighbors’. I can only take Gabriel to the park if one of the other women goes, too. Once I took him by myself, and Harley found out. He got so mad.”
“Is he violent with you?”
“Sometimes. Not bad, not like Mr. Piper with Marcia. Harley just slaps or takes away a privilege.” She stroked the baby’s cheek as he kneaded