“And the two of you have discussed it.”
“Reva and I? No. We wouldn’t speak of this, any details of it. With Code Red, all data-verbal, electronic, holographic-all files, all notes, all intel remains top level. I’ve discussed this with no one, until now, but Roarke himself. In the office. This is global security, Lieutenant,” she said with brisk disapproval in her tone. “It isn’t coffee talk.”
“I’m not bringing it up to juice up the cookies.”
“They’re great cookies,” Peabody piped up, and earned a scowl from Eve. “I bet you get them from a bakery.”
Caro smiled a little. “Yes, I do.”
“We always had fresh cookies in the house when I was a kid. Now that we’re grown up, my mom still has them around. Habit,” Peabody said, and took another bite. “You probably always had them around when Reva was a kid.”
“I did.”
“I guess especially when you’re raising a kid on your own, you tend to be close, and a mom gets to be even more protective.”
“Probably.” The stiffness in Caro’s voice, in her body language relaxed. “Though I’ve tried, always, to give her room. Independence.”
“Still worry, like you said. Like when she was with the Secret Service. Probably worried some, too, like moms do, when she got serious about Blair.”
“Yes, a bit. Still, she was a grown woman.”
“My mom always said we can get as old as we want, she’s still our mom. Did you run Bissel, Ms. Ewing?”
Caro started to speak, then flushed and stared hard at the window. “I… she’s my only child. Yes. I’m ashamed to say I did. I know I asked you specifically not to,” she said to Roarke. “Made a point of it, even an issue of it with you.”
“I did two levels anyway.”
“Well, of course. Of course, you did.” Her hand fluttered to her face, then fell back into her lap. “She was an employee, after all.” She sighed now. “I knew you would do that much. You have to protect yourself, your holdings.”
“I wasn’t only thinking of myself, Caro, or my holdings.”
She reached out, touched his hand. “No, I know that. But I also knew, because I asked-well, demanded, really-you wouldn’t go deeper than that. And I swore to myself I wouldn’t. I absolutely would not interfere in such an underhanded way with my daughter’s life. Then I did. Another full level. And I used your resources to do it. I’m terribly sorry.”
“Caro.” He picked up her hand, kissed her fingers gently. “I was perfectly aware of what you did. I had no problem with it.”
“Oh.” She let out a shaky laugh. “How foolish of me. Remarkably.”
“How could you do that, Mom?” Reva stepped into the room. Her eyes were ravaged, her hair disordered from sleep. “How could you go behind my back that way?”
Chapter 5
Roarke got to his feet and moved so smoothly, so subtly between mother and daughter, Eve wondered if anyone noticed that he’d placed himself as Caro’s shield.
“For that matter, Reva, so did I, go behind your back, as it were.”
“You’re not my mother.” She bit the words off as she stepped forward, and Roarke simply shifted his body without seeming to move at all.
“Which would mean, all in all, I had less of a right.” He spoke easily, drawing his cigarette case out of his pocket. The gesture, Eve noted, distracted Reva. If only for a moment. “Do you mind, Caro?” he asked, very pleasant.
“No.” Flustered, she looked around, then rose. “I’ll get an ashtray.”
“Thanks. Of course you could say I did the basic run on Blair as your employer. And that would be true.” He lit the cigarette. “True enough, but not fully true. You’re a friend of mine, as is your mother, so that was another factor.”
Color was riding high in Reva’s cheeks, a full temper strike at the flashpoint, made no less volatile by the fact she was bundled into a petal pink robe and wearing thick gray socks. “If I can’t be trusted to-”
“You I trust, and always have, Reva. Him I didn’t know, so why should I have trusted him? Still, I didn’t go beyond two levels out of respect for your mother.”
“But not for me, not out of respect for me. Either of you,” she said with a furious look at her mother as Caro came back with a small crystal dish. “You were spying on him, checking up on him, and all the while you were making wedding plans, pretending to be happy for me.”
“Reva, I was happy for you,” Caro began.
“You didn’t like him, you never liked him,” Reva spat out. “If you think I didn’t know you-”
“Sorry. If you want to get into a family spat, it’ll have to wait.” Eve made a show of getting out her recorder when Reva whipped around toward her. “Homicide investigations take precedence. You’ve already been read your rights-”
“You agreed to give me ten minutes,” Roarke reminded her. “I’ll take it now.”
Eve shrugged. “A deal’s a deal.”
“Caro, is there somewhere private I could have a few moments with Reva?”
“Yes. You could use my office. I’ll just show you-”
“I know where it is.” Turning her back on Caro, Reva stalked away. The ensuing silence was punctuated by the violent slamming of a door.
“I’m very sorry.” Caro sat again, folded her hands in her lap. “She’s understandably upset.”
“Sure.” Eve glanced at her wrist unit. Ten minutes was all Roarke was going to get.
In Caro’s office, with its streamlined D and C center on top of an antique rosewood desk, Reva stood as rigid as a blindfolded prisoner awaiting execution. “I’m so angry with her, with you. With every fucking thing.”
“Well, there’s a bulletin. Why don’t you sit down, Reva?”
“I don’t want to sit down. I’m not going to sit down. I want to punch something, kick something. Break something.”
“Do what you need to do.” His tone was bored, a verbal shrug that caused embarrassed color to rise up and join the flush of Reva’s temper. “That’s between you and Caro, as these are her things. When you’ve finished your tantrum, you can sit down and we’ll talk like reasonable adults.”
“I’ve always hated that about you.”
“What’s that?” he asked and took a slow drag on his cigarette.
“That control of yours. That ice you use instead of blood in your veins.”
“Ah, that. The lieutenant can tell you there are times when even my astonishing control and marvelously even temper fails. No one snaps our composure quite like someone we love.”
“I didn’t say you had an even temper, marvelous or otherwise,” she said dryly. “There’s no one scarier, or meaner. Or kinder.” Her breath hitched, forcing her to take a gulp of air, or sob. “I know you have to fire me, and that you’re going to try to do it gently. I’m not angry about that. I can’t blame you for that. If it makes things easier, less messy, I’ll resign.”
He took another drag, then tapped the cigarette out in the little crystal dish he’d brought in with him. “Why would I need to fire you?”
“I’ve been charged with murder, for God’s sake. I’m out on bail, the kind of bail that’s going to require me to sell my house and nearly everything else I own. I’m wearing this.”
She shot out a hand, her fingers fisted tight below the dull silver tracking bracelet on her wrist.
“I suppose it’s too much to ask for them to make those things even remotely stylish.”
At the comment, she could only stare at him. “They know if I walk outside to go to the corner deli. They know I’m upset right now because they can read my pulse rate. It’s just a prison without the cage.”
“I know it, Reva. I’m sorry for it. But the cage could be worse, a great deal worse. You’re not to sell your house, or anything else. I’ll lend you the money. Shut up,” he ordered even as she opened her mouth. “You’ll take it because I’m telling you to take it. It’s an investment for me. And when this is cleared up and you’re exonerated, I’ll have it back. Then you’ll work off what I consider a fair interest on the loan.”