Strangers in Death (In Death #26)(108)

“Both. And I’m happy to be a part of making her pay. Making both of them pay. Ava got what she wanted, but she had to push too hard. And she used the wrong sort of manipulation in the end. Smarter, much smarter to have appealed to Suzanne’s soft side. ‘Please help me. You’re the only one I trust, the only one I can depend on. I’ve done this for you, just as I promised. Please don’t turn your back on me now.’ Instead, she was so revved from the murder she played hardball, and cracked her tool. All I had to do was give it a few good knocks.”

She pushed away from the desk, crossed over to stare out the window.

Roarke gave her a moment of silence for her own thoughts. “What troubles you about it, Eve? Under your anger?”

“It’s personal. I can deal with that, but the way it’s personal gnaws a little. Mira’s already poking at me about it, and that’s irritating.”

“Because she sees that you look at Suzanne and think of yourself. The child you were. Battered, trapped, helpless. And the choice you made to save yourself.”

Eve glanced back. “It shows? That’s irritating, too.”

“To me, and to Mira. But you wear your armor well, Lieutenant.”

“She wasn’t a child, Roarke. She wasn’t helpless, or didn’t have to be. She chose to kill, to obey another bidding to kill, rather than deal.”

That, he knew, would eat at her. The uselessness of it. “And it pisses you off. She lay down and took it, when there were so many options. She took the life of a man she didn’t know because someone told her to. Her husband’s dead because she stayed with him rather than walk away. And now her children are, essentially, orphaned.”

“She said she thought her children should have their father. That it was her responsibility to stay.”

“Ah.”

Having said it, Eve realized some of the knots in her belly had slackened. “Yeah, I thought of your mother, and how she’d thought the same. How she’d died for that. But goddamn it, Roarke, your mother was so young, and I can’t believe she’d have stayed for years. I can’t look at you and believe that. Can’t think of the family you found and believe that. She’d have taken you and walked, if she’d had another chance.”

“I think of that. Aye, sometimes I think of that. And that’s what I believe as well. But in God’s truth, I don’t know if it’s a comfort or a curse to believe it.”

“It’s a comfort to me,” she said, and watched his eyes warm.

“Then it will be to me as well. Thanks.”

“Suzanne Custer sat and made a bargain over wine and cheese. Some part of her knew it was real, however much she denies it. However much she can’t face it. She agreed to Ava’s terms. She didn’t try to back out until after her own husband’s throat was slit. She didn’t go to Ava the next morning, or the next week and tell her, ‘Deal’s off. No can do.’ She let it ride. Ned Custer was a son of a bitch, and he may have deserved to have his balls kicked black and blue, might’ve deserved some time in a cage for spousal abuse, but he didn’t deserve having his throat slit and his dick sawed off. But the wife who claims she wanted her children to have their father set him up for just that. So I don’t feel for her. I’m damned if I will.”

Roarke rose, and going to her laid his hands on her shoulders, his lips on her brow. “It’s useless to be angry with yourself because you do feel something. Just that thin edge of pity around the disgust.”

“She doesn’t deserve my pity.” And Eve sighed. “Or any more of my time slapping at myself for that thin edge of it I do feel. I need to get in the field.”

He gave her shoulders a brisk rub. “Here I’ve come by as I did my job so well and so quickly; now you’re tossing me aside.”

“You pinned the remote? Already?”

“I did, yes. I’ll have some coffee.”

“How the hell—”

“Are you going to get me some coffee or not?”

“Crap.” She programmed it. “Spill.”

“Assuming you don’t mean the coffee—as what would be the point—I’ve just come from a chat with an old…acquaintance. He happens to specialize in electronics that aren’t legal in the strictest sense of the word.”

“He sells illegal jammers and bypasses on the black market.”

“To put a fine point on it, yes. He manufactures them, most usually for specific clients at quite a hefty markup. He’s very good at it. In fact, perhaps the best in New York.” He waited a significant beat. “Now.”

“Now that you aren’t in the same market.”

“Aren’t you clever? I started at the top of the chain, as I assume Ava would want someone talented, efficient, and reliable—also with a reputation for being discreet. She went for Charles, after all, who has those qualities in his former profession. I’ll admit I didn’t expect to hit straight off the mark. But that’s precisely what I did.”

“This guy, this acquaintance designed and sold the remote to Ava.”

“Three months ago, he received a package at his legitimate place of business.”

“His front.”

“You’re so picky. The package contained an order for a very specifically designed device. It contained the specs for the security system the device was to bypass. He tells me he was impressed with the research the potential client had done. And,” Roarke added with a smile, “with the considerable amount of cash as downpayment. Another payment would be made on delivery, and the final sent if and when the client deemed the device satisfactory.”