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Authors: J. D. Robb

BOOK: Survivor in Death
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“More cross-checking then,” Baxter put in. “Known terrorists or members of fringe organizations.”

“Look for teams. Two or more who are known to work together, or known to have trained together. Then we need to put one of them, at least, in
New York
during the last few years.”

“Could be hirelings,” Baxter pointed out. “Brought into
New York
to do the job.”

“Low odds. Hirelings would've been smoke an hour after the Swisher hit. But they're still in
New York
, still here to grab up Newman. One or both of them targeted the Swishers, and for a reason. This means, at some point, one or more of them crossed paths with one or more of the Swishers. Security and wet work, and they're in shape. No desk jockeys or data crunchers. These are field operatives. Males, between thirty and sixty to start. White or light-skinned males. Either they or their organization has deep pockets. Look for the money.”

She rubbed the back of her neck, finished off the cold coffee. “They've got a place, in or near the city. Headquarters. They'd need something local, and they'd need something private. The only logical motive for grabbing Newman would be for information on Nixie Swisher. They'd need somewhere they could take her, work it out of her.”

“We'll be cross-checking until the blood runs out of our ears. Not complaining, Lieutenant,” McNab said quickly. “You can't look at that board and complain. Just feels like the time's dripping away.”

“Then you'd better get busy.” She checked her wrist unit. “Baxter, you're all right where we set you up?”

“It's prime.”

“Trueheart, maybe you could spell Summerset with the witness for fifteen. Mira's due here shortly, then she'll take her. Work with Baxter when you're off babysitting duty. Feeney, you and McNab can work here in the computer lab?”

“No problem.”

“I'll join you,” Roarke told them. “But first, Lieutenant, a minute of your time.”

“That's about all I've got to spare. Peabody?”

“I'll head down with Trueheart, say hi to Nixie.”

Then, to Roarke, she said, “I have to contact the commander, give him a report, so this has to be quick.”

He merely went to the door, closed it behind Peabody.

“What?” Eve's hands went automatically to her pockets. “You pissed about something?”

“No.” Keeping his eyes, deep and blue, on hers, he walked to her. “No,” he repeated, and taking her face in his hand, kissed her. Long, deep, soft.

“Jesus.” It took longer than it should have for her to pull her hands out of her pockets and nudge him back. “I can't play lock the lips with you now.”

“Quiet.” He took her arms, and the look on his face, so strong, so serious, had her going still. “I value my skin--a very great deal. I'll do what it takes to protect it. I'll do more yet, I promise you, to protect it so that you're not distracted from this with worry for me. I love you, Eve. I'll keep safe because I love you.”

“I shouldn't have hung that on you. I--”

“Quiet,” he repeated. “I'm not finished. You'll keep yourself as safe as you can. You're courageous, but not reckless. I know. Just as I know

there are risks you'll take, risks you'll feel duty-bound to take. Don't keep them from me. When you find a way to use yourself as bait on this, I want to know about it.”

He knew her, she thought. Knew her, understood her, accepted and loved anyway. You couldn't ask for more. “I wouldn't do anything like that without telling you.” When his gaze stayed steady, she shrugged. “I'd think about doing it without telling you, but then I'd cave. I'm not doing anything on that angle until I'm dead sure they won't get me. Because if they get me, they've got a better chance of getting her. And because I love you, too: I get sure, decide to try something, I'll tell you first.”

“Good enough, then. I didn't ask before, and I know you're pressed now, but were you able to speak to the Dysons about Nixie?”

“To her. He was out of it. She's not in much better shape. I'm going to give them another couple days. I know it's inconvenient, but--”

“It's not. I just assume that she'd feel steadier if she had those familiar faces, if she were able to have her friend's parents with her.” He considered telling her what he'd dug up regarding Nixie's remaining family, then let it go. She had enough on her plate. And for reasons he couldn't explain, even to himself, he wanted to handle that part of it. “Summerset told me basically what Trueheart told you. She holds up, she breaks down, and holds up again. She's grieving, and there's no one here who can grieve with her, who knew her family.”

“I'll talk to Mira about it. Maybe she can speak to the Dysons. Might be better coming from her than me.”

“Maybe. I'll go join the EDD boys and leave you to your commander. Grab a nutribar at least with the next gallon of coffee you drink.”

“Nag, nag, nag,” she said as he walked out the door. But she got the nutribar out of her desk drawer.

10

AFTER MIRA AND HER SECURITY ESCORT WERE cleared through the gates, Eve met her at the door. Since she had the extra men, she ordered security to do a patrol around the grounds, with electronic sweep.

“You're being very cautious,” Mira commented. “Do you really expect them to try an invasion on this house?”

“Newman doesn't know where I took the kid, so trying a hit here isn't the next logical step.” She swept a glance down the hall. Trueheart had Nixie in the game room, but that didn't mean the kid couldn't come wandering out. “Why don't we step outside for a minute?”

Eve led the way through the parlor and the doors to the side terrace. She had a momentary pause when she saw a little silver droid, a low, shiny box, busily sucking up fallen leaves. “Huh, how about that.” At her voice, it glided off the terrace and slid down one of the paths into the garden. “Wonder what it does with them once it sucks them up.”

“I think it chops them into a kind of mulch, or compost. Dennis talks about getting something like it, then doesn't. I think he secretly enjoys raking the leaves by hand.”

Eve thought of Mira's kind-eyed, absentminded husband. “Why?”

“Mindless work that gets him outdoors. Of course, if we had grounds this extensive to deal with, it'd be a different story. It's lovely out here, isn't it, even so late in the year with so much of the gardens fading away toward winter.”

Eve looked over the gardens, through the ornamental and shade trees, past arbors and fountains to the thick stone walls. “Lot of ways in, lot of ways out, but as secure as it gets.”

“And still your home. That makes it difficult.”

“I made the call. Look, it's cooler out here than I thought. You okay for a minute?”

“I'm fine.” Mira wore a jacket, and Eve was currently in shirtsleeves. “It must be inconvenient, having so many people in your home.”

“Place is starting to smell like Central. Anyway, if they click on the idea Nixie's here, they might see it as a challenge, get revved at the idea. The bigger the mission, the bigger the payoff.”

“But you don't think they know Nixie's here.”

“I think your average GPS rep would spill data out like a gushing pipe under torture. And I wouldn't hold it against her. Best I can speculate, she doesn't know the witness is here, but knows I took her and bypassed regs. They could put it together. I would.”

“Taking a civilian witness into your personal residence isn't usual, or even standard procedure. But yes, they might put it together. And you also assume that under extreme duress, I would also gush like a broken pipe.”

“It's not a reflection on your standards or your integrity.”

“No.” Mira brushed back a wave of hair the breeze blew across her cheek. “And I don't take it as such. I imagine you're right. While I'd like to think I'd suffer torture and painful death to protect another, it's much more likely I'd succumb. So you have me and my home under surveillance and security. Sensible of you, and I apologize for objecting.”

“I had you under security before, and Palmer got to you.”

Mira as psychologist and profiler and Eve as primary had helped put Palmer away. His revenge spree after his prison escape the previous winter had nearly cost Mira her life. Could have cost both of them, Eve remembered, when he'd abducted Mira and caged her in a basement to lure Eve to his sick New Year's Eve celebration.

“He didn't serve you a tea party, either, and you stood up.”

“He just wanted me to suffer and die. In this case ... where is Nixie?”

“I've got Trueheart riding her. I didn't know where you wanted to set up with her.”

“Where do you think she's most comfortable?”

Eve stared, blank. “Ah, I don't know. She did okay in the parlor last time.”

“A stunning room, and certainly comfortable. But maybe a little intimidating for a child used to less opulence. Where does she spend most of her time?”

“I don't know that either, exactly. She hangs with Summerset a lot, but he's all over the damn house. Like termites. She and Trueheart were hanging out in the game room before.”

“Game room?”

“Roarke's got a damn room for everything. Fancy toys, you know, arcade stuff.” She gave a shrug, though she had to admit, privately, she got a charge out of the deal. “A lot of classic game stuff.”

“Child friendly, then. That sounds very good.”

“Okay.”

When Eve didn't turn back to the door, Mira asked, “How do you feel she's coping?”

“Had a nightmare last night. A real screamer. Thought they were coming for her, hiding in the closet, under the bed.”

“Natural enough. I'd be more concerned if she wasn't afraid. If she was repressing.”

“Like I did.”

“You coped in your own way.” And because they'd come quite a distance in the last two years, Mira touched a hand to Eve's arm. “And still do. This child has a firm foundation, which has been broken out from under her. But that foundation will mean she'll most likely have an easier time regaining her footing. With counseling, with care, and a return to normalcy.”

Eve gathered herself. “There's a thing. The situation she's in, the one I was in, they're nothing alike. Not even close. But--”

“A young traumatized child.”

“She had murder done around her. I did murder.”

“Why do you call it murder?” Mira's voice sharpened. “You know very well it was nothing of the kind. You were a child fighting for her life. If one of those men had found Nixie, and through some miracle she'd been able to kill him, save herself, would you call it murder? Lieutenant.”

“No.” Eve closed her eyes, bore down before the image could form. “No. I know I did what I had to, like she did what she had to. I killed, she hid.”

“Eve.” Her tone gentle now, Mira laid a hand on Eve's cheek. “Eve. You had nowhere to hide.”

“No, I had nowhere.” She had to step away from that touch, from that quiet understanding, or dissolve. “It's good she did. Good she was smart enough to do what she did, strong enough to crawl through blood to survive.”

“And so did you, so were you smart enough and strong enough. And terrified enough. You can't help seeing yourself, as you were, when you deal with her.”

“I did see myself. When I found her, huddled in that bathroom, blood all over her. For a minute, I saw myself in that fucking freezing room in Dallas. And I nearly walked away from her. Hell, I nearly ran away from her.”

“But you didn't. And what you felt is normal. What similarities you see--”

“I'm projecting. I know the term.” She felt temper rise up in her, shoved it back. “I'm handling it. I'm telling you because I figure you should know there's a thing. Off and on.”

“And I expect you to tell me if it becomes too much to handle. For your sake as well as hers. At this point, I believe your empathy with her is helpful--for her. She senses it, and it adds to her sense of safety. You're not just an authority figure. You're her savior.”

Eve turned to the door, opened it. “She saved herself.”

After going back inside, Eve had to stand for a moment, orient herself and bring the location of the game room into her head.

“If you need to talk about this further--”

“I'll let you know.” She closed the door on it. “This way. We keep her on monitor. Got a homer on her.”

“No precaution is overdone, in my opinion.”

“On authority figures, I talked with her legal guardians. Linnie Dyson's parents. They're still pretty torn up. I thought if you talked to them it might come easier than having a cop on their doorstep again.”

“I'll do what I can. It would be good for Nixie, certainly, to see them, to talk to them. And it would help them as well.”

Eve paused. She could hear the beeps and bells of machines. They'd left the door to the game room open. “Listen, before you go in. Grabbing up Newman like that. It was ass covering, and a logical step. But it was strutting, too. Daylight, in front of witnesses. Pulling off something that risky, it's going to juice you up. Coolheaded, cold-blooded, organized planners, sure, but you're going to feel the juice.”

“Those who, even routinely, perform in risky professions or situations get the adrenaline kick. It's part of the reason they do what they do.”

“And the more they get out of Newman, the bigger the rush.”

“Yes.”

Eve let out a deep sigh. “She's dead, isn't she? As soon as they determine they've gotten all the information out of her, there's no reason to keep her alive.”

“Unfortunately, I agree. You couldn't have saved her.”

“I could've thought ahead. I could've ordered this protection lockdown sooner on all connected parties. But I didn't.” Restless, she moved her shoulders. “Hindsight doesn't change anything, so I'll think ahead now.”

She gestured toward the room. “They're in there. You can tell by the insanity of noise.”

“You should come in with me. She needs to see you routinely,” Mira continued when Eve instinctively stepped back. “To remember me in connection to you, so that she's comfortable with me. Once she's seen you, you can go.”

“All right. Jeez.”

Nixie was standing on a stool and pushing the buttons for the flippers on a pinball machine. The one, Eve noted, with cops and robbers--Roarke's particular favorite.

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