Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)(92)

“But …” Peabody frowned at the board. “They don’t get any real return until the Huffmans die. They’re in their sixties. Just middle age.”

“She plans,” Mira said. “Long-term.”

“Yeah, and she doesn’t plan to end up with a brood of kids.” Eve referenced the board. “Get Gwen married—to someone her father wants in the faithful. I’m betting she maneuvered Gwen into aiming for Merit Caine. You can bet she’s accessed their medicals to be sure there are no reproductive issues. Gwen wants the marriage and the kid—for her own ends, so she’ll work for it. Terms met, and all you have to do is eliminate the parents.”

“Long-term planning.” Mira nodded. “Bide her time.”

“A tragic accident,” Eve speculated. “A staged murder-suicide. I bet she’s got a plan in the works for that.”

“Yes, she would think well ahead,” Mira agreed. “She’s had to plan and plot all of her life. She’s female, and therefore less. To rise up, she has to continually find ways to offer more—the recruiting, serving her father’s needs. All while learning all the ins and outs of the order’s business.”

“Wind back?” Santiago rolled a finger in the air. “The terms of the will, right? If Gwen Huffman fucks it up, the order gets more. A hell of a lot more.”

“Too far away, and too easy to change.” Roarke held up his hands. “Sorry.”

“No, that’s just it,” Eve told him. “The Huffmans cut off their son, yes, and probably would do the same with the daughter. But what if they didn’t? Another trip to Realignment, maybe, another delay, and Mirium’s pushing the end of acceptable time for marriage and kids.”

“She would have known Gwen when they were children.” Mira angled her head. “Known about her being sent off and why. Could she have been in the Hamptons at the time the parents learned of Gwen’s orientation?”

Eve smiled, nodded. “Not only could, but was. A long weekend with her parents, her younger brother—or half-brother, and I assume she knows that, too, and has ideas on how to use it. I think she learned the benefits of spying then and there, and the power of it. She saw Gwen, told her father, and Gwen’s sent away. I bet she got a nice little reward for it.”

“Her father’s approval and trust, if nothing else,” Mira agreed. “It lifted her up, made her useful. No doubt she found other infractions to report over the years. Telling him about Gwen might have been impulse, might have been true belief, but the reward? It mattered to her. And yes, Gwen’s a focus now. A kind of personal investment. But with the terms, if she tells now, Gwen’s no longer of use.”

“Protect the investment. Maybe she even covers for Gwen a few times. But Ariel’s a real threat, and can blow up all those careful plans. The killing itself, impulse and rage. Up to then, she had things worked out. And Gwen messes it up again by going back in the morning.”

Eve walked back to the board. “She’s not worried about Byrd now. How would we tie her to the murder? She’s never met Byrd, can claim she was in the compound at the time of the murder. Can see that dozens swear to it.”

“But she wasn’t,” Peabody said.

“No. She was at the house her father lets her use, really only a handful of blocks away from Ariel’s apartment. Listening. She may have had a pickup—another recruitment scheduled—or planned to do some research on a new prospect.”

“She’d like having time in the house, her own space.” Mira recrossed her legs. “Come and go as she pleases, dress as she pleases. Taste the freedom.”

“Nothing tastes better,” Eve said, thinking of Gina.

“She’ll lose all of that if …”

Mira looked at Eve, got another nod.

“If she doesn’t have a way to take over Natural Order.”

“Kill her dad?” Even after all the rest, Trueheart looked shocked at the idea.

“Kill him, or, more likely, blackmail him. Turn it over to me, or I burn it to the ground. She needs the time, the money, more opportunities,” Eve added. “But I saw a cold, hard, ambitious woman who slipped on the good-daughter mask.

“They’re buying and selling human beings she helps find and abduct. Killing means nothing.”

“We gotta take them down.” Jenkinson jabbed a finger in the air.

“And we will. But they’re not just in Connecticut, not just in New York. There are other facilities, their farm system, and, essentially, their island.”

“Kick an anthill, the ants scatter. Some of that’s going to happen however right and tight we do this.”

“Baxter’s right on that. We’re not going to get them all, so we focus on essential areas. Utopia Island—sovereign nation aside—human trafficking, torture, slavery, those are all high crimes globally and off-planet. Abernathy with Interpol should be willing to assist and coordinate there.”

“I’ll contact him and his superiors,” Whitney told her.

“It has to be a coordinated op. Hit one area too soon, and more ants scatter from another. The farm system here in the States. I haven’t looked hard and close at that, but the FBI has data, and we use that, look hard and close and outline the operation on that. Jenkinson, you and Reineke take that, outline an op and be prepared to brief on same by …”