“I wouldn’t think so, no. The woman and the child wouldn’t have existed for him.”
“Okay. Okay.” She pushed up to pace. “So, at some point, they tell her. Or maybe they’ve been up front about it all along. Maybe she always knew the guy raising her wasn’t her biological. She gets curious, she starts digging.”
“And finds Max Ricker.”
“Most people, they’re going to be sick if they’re looking for a biological and turn up a criminal kingpin, one suspected of being responsible for more deaths than a lot of small wars. If this is right, if this”—she pointed at Lissa’s image on the wall screen—“is the connection, Grady went to him. She made the contact. I’m your kid, asshole, what are you going to do about it? What would he have done?”
“Depends on his mood again,” Roarke said. “But he might have been entertained by a direct approach. And as he and Alex weren’t on the best of terms at that point, it might’ve intrigued him. The idea of having a chance to mold an offspring.”
“Educate her, train her. Use her.” She knew all about that, Eve thought, all about the methods a father might use to mold. She blocked it out, focused on Grady. “And God, wouldn’t it be sweet to use her to screw with the son who disappointed him?”
“And for her, wouldn’t you think?” Roarke walked back to the board. “For her, also sweet to have a part in undermining the son—the prince, as he’d appear to be from the outside. The one who had all she didn’t. The wealth, the advantages, the attention. The name. It all falls into place with this single element. But then you have to prove this single element is fact.”
“I can do that.” Eve grinned fiercely. “DNA doesn’t lie. I’m going to write this all up, toss it to Mira to add to the stew for the profile. I still need something that puts her and Sandy together, even just the same general place, same general time.”
“That would be my assignment.”
“It would, but you have to play it straight.”
“You’re always spoiling my fun.”
“You already had fun. I groveled.”
“True.” He walked over, laid his hands on her shoulders, laid his lips on hers. “I know you.” He rubbed her shoulders, lightly. “The part of you who isn’t working the case in your head is wondering if all this is true, is she what she is, did she do what she did because of that DNA.”
Yes, she thought, he knew her. “It’s a question.”
“And the mirror turns so you wonder next about your own blood. What passes from father to daughter.”
“I know I’m not like her. But it’s another question.”
“Here’s an answer. Three fathers—hers, mine, yours—and three products of that blood, so to speak. And all of us have done what we’ve done with it. Maybe because of it. You know you’re not like her, you’re sure of that much. I know you. I’m sure you never could have been.”
He kissed her again before he left her.
She put it away, put away that part of her that wasn’t working the case in her head. That was for later.
She stitched the theory together for Mira, and thought it was a shame Grady’s DNA wasn’t on record. She’d have her warrants in a fingersnap if she proved Grady was Max Ricker’s daughter. Still, it wouldn’t take much. A little spit, skin, hair, blood—whatever came handiest—was all she needed.
She sent messages to her commander, to Reo, to Peabody, and after a brief hesitation, to Morris.
Sitting back, Eve calculated the best, legal, and most satisfying method of collecting Cleo Grady’s DNA.
“Here’s an interesting bit of trivia,” Roarke commented as he came back in. “The football team representing the university where Alex and Sandy became mates happens to play against the team representing the university where Grady was a visiting student.”
“Is that a fucking fact?”
“It is. In fact, these teams hold a deep-seated rivalry and their matches are what you’d call events. Rallies, dances, mad celebrations. They held two of these events—one on each team’s home pitch, during the time Grady was there.”
“I like it.”
“Alex got a bit of press as he scored goals in both those matches. I didn’t find Sandy’s name in any media, but he is listed as a member of the team.”
“Second-string benchwarmer. Has to be a pisser. Reo’s going to make noises—or make noises that her boss is going to make noises—that thousands of people must’ve been at those games. Hard to prove that Sandy and Grady actually met up. But it’s going to be enough. It’s going to weigh. Maybe Alex met her,” she speculated. “Or saw Sandy with her. Would he know about her, about having a sister?”
“Max would only have told him if it was useful. More useful, to Max, to keep it to himself.”
“Still, it has to be addressed. I have a lot of people to talk to in the morning.” She angled her head. “What you said before about her education and her parents’ finances. If Ricker paid for it, there’s a record somewhere, however deep it’s buried. I can’t look at Grady’s any deeper than I have, but Ricker’s an open book. I can go anywhere I want there. As long as I play it straight.”
“I knew you were going to say that, and just as I was getting excited.”
Eve smiled. “Let’s find her college fund. Add a little more weight to the scale for Reo.”
She set up what she could, then refined the steps in a briefing the next morning at central.
“It’s not just my ass in the sling if I push for this warrant and you come up empty,” Reo told her. “It’ll be yours, and the department’s in there with me.”
“We’ll find something. The warrant’s not out of the box with what we have. Add in the blood tie with Ricker and Mira’s profile, it’s not only in the box, it’s a lock.”
“Alleged blood tie,” Reo reminded her. “And the profile hinges on that. The need to impress her father, to punish her brother, and the rest of the psycho-shrink babble—no offense.”
“None taken,” Mira assured her.
“All that stands on her being Ricker’s kid, and knowing it.”
“We’ll be substantiating that today. You’re up for this, Morris?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Peabody and I will pull Alex Ricker in, work him. If he knows about a sister, even suspects he may have one, we’ll get it out of him. And letting the word get out that we’ve got Alex Ricker in the box, are interviewing him in the matter of Coltraine and Sandy? It’s going to give Grady a feeling of accomplishment. I’ll bet she’ll want a pat on the back from Daddy.”
“It would fit,” Mira agreed. “She may try to contact him through her usual sources.”
“Which we’ll have, also in a box, within hours. Rouche will give us Ricker, and he’ll give us Sandy. We may get lucky and get another log to add on the Grady fire.” She looked at Feeney. “We need to know asap if she tries for the contact. You’ll be set.”
“We’ll be set. She sends anything to the ’link Callendar found in Rouche’s quarters, we’ll nail it down. Once you work the return process out of Rouche, we’ll send her whatever return you want.”
“We’re a go then. Get me the damn warrants, Reo. Peabody, wait outside, please. McNab, set it up. Morris, another minute.”
Eve waited until the room cleared. “McNab’s going to have ears on you the whole time you’re with her.”
“I’m not worried about it.”
“She’s a killer. It’s her job. You should worry about it. If she senses anything off, she’ll do you first, think about it later. You just have to—”
“We’ve been over what you want me to do, how you want me to do it, three times. I can do this. And I should be the one to do it, not only for Amaryllis, but because I’m the only logical choice. You have to trust me to do my part. I’m trusting you to do yours.”