“You should. It’s good for you. When I was a girl, I used to curl up on the window seat in my father’s library. I could dream away an afternoon if left to myself. He’s a teacher. Did I ever tell you that? He met my mother when he sliced his hand cutting tomatoes for a sandwich. He’s always been a bit clumsy. She was a young resident, doing her ER rotation. And he hit on her.”
She laughed a little, lifted her face to the sun. The heat baked through her skin, into her bones. “So odd to think of that. And sweet. They’re both semiretired now. They live in Connecticut with their ancient dog Spike and have a little vegetable garden so they can raise tomatoes.”
“That’s nice.” And it was. It was also baffling.
“You’re wondering why I’m telling you all this. Thank you, Summerset,” she said when he set two glasses of wine and a small tray of canapés on the table. “How lovely.”
“Enjoy. Just let me know if I can bring you anything else.”
“No particular reason,” she said to Eve when Summerset went back in the house. “I suppose the tranquility of this spot made me think of them, appreciate them. Not everyone has such a steady, undemanding childhood.”
“I don’t have time for a session,” Eve began, but Mira covered her hand.
“I wasn’t speaking only of you. The children who were damaged by these people will have a great deal to overcome. You understand that.”
“And I’d unde
rstand killing what hurts you?”
“This is a different matter, and I wondered if you’d been able to separate it. What you did was done in pain and fear and immediacy. To protect yourself, to save yourself. What’s being done here is cold, calculating, thorough. It’s organized and it’s pompous, for lack of a better word. This isn’t self-defense. It’s arrogance.”
The tension in Eve’s shoulders eased. “I was beginning to wonder if anyone else saw it. Starting to wonder if I was drawing a hard line on this because if I didn’t, it made what happened with me the same.”
“You killed to live. This group is living to kill.”
“I’d like to see that on a goddamn media release.” Eve lifted her glass, drank.
“Whoever formed the group, whoever holds the top position of authority, is intelligent, organized, and persuasive. Others would have to be brought in, recruited for the highly specialized technical positions. They understand the power of the media. They need public support.”
“They’re beating that drum pretty good.”
“Yes, so far. I don’t think this infection used to terminate is a coincidence. It’s another symbol. Our children have been infected by these monsters. Now we infect them because the law could not, would not. The use of the word guardian, another symbol. We’ll protect you. You’re safe now that we’re here.”
“How long before they expand their horizons?”
“Unchecked?” Mira picked up a small disc of bread and creamy cheese. “Groups tend to evolve. Successful groups tend to seek out other ways to use their skills and their influence. The child predator today, the acquitted killer tomorrow. The street thief, the chemi-head. If New York is to be pure, these infections must be eliminated.”
“I think at least one cop’s involved. A social worker. Some of the families the victim’s messed with.”
Mira nodded as if she’d expected nothing else. “Look for people with connections to your victims who hold high-level skills. Neurology, computer science, physics, sociology, psychiatry. And look for wealth. The research and equipment needed here would require heavy funding. You can expect another death and another statement very soon. They need to keep this story in the forefront. Purity is on a mission, Eve, and it’s using our children to drive it.”
“They’ll have to put a spin on what happened with Halloway—with Feeney and McNab.”
“Yes.” Mira watched a hummingbird, iridescent as a jewel, dart in for a blossom with a blur of wings. “I’m sure it will be very well-written.”
Eve ran her glass in small circles on the tabletop. “Roarke and I have gone around on this some. We’re close to the same line, I guess, but not quite on the same side of it.”
“I’d say that was a good thing.”
Surprised, Eve looked up. “How?”
“You’re not the same person, Eve, nor would either of you want to be. Seeing this from two sides would, I’d think, help keep you both honest. And interested.”
“Maybe. We pissed each other off.”
“Another part of marriage.”
“It’s a damn big slice of ours.” But her shoulders relaxed a little. “Keep each other honest,” she murmured. “Maybe. So . . . Did you talk to Feeney?”