“Military or para,” Feeney said. “Espionage or special forces. Average citizens, they're not.”
“If they were military, it's likely we'll find they washed out-or were promoted to fucking general because of their particular skills. One way or the other, these men have been in the field, and they've gotten wet. They're not rusty, either, so they've kept in the game.”
“Paramilitary seems more probable,” Roarke commented. “There's testing in standard military that would question the personality type or predilection of killing for personal gain or satisfaction-particularly children.”
“Mercenaries kill for personal gain, and are often attached to military ops.”
“True enough.” But he shook his head at Eve. “That's most usually monetary. Where is the monetary gain here?”
“We might not have found it yet, but let's say I agree. And I agree that it takes a certain kind of personality to slit a child's throat while she sleeps. That's terrorist tactics, and fringe at that. I think that's where this arrow's going to point.”
“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, inNew York during the last few years.”
“Could be hirelings,” Baxter pointed out. “Brought intoNew York to do the job.”
“Low odds. Hirelings would've been smoke an hour after the Swisher hit. But they're still inNew 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 behindPeabody.
“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.”