The In Death Collection 06-10 (34 page)

“He’ll be fine. He’ll finish what he’s begun. He was born for it.”

“You think you programmed him that well? I hope you’re right because when he comes in for the next round, I’ll break him. He’s got more equipment stashed, hasn’t he? Not far from here.”

Audrey smiled, sipped her tea. “You’ll never find him in your big, filthy city. Your Sodom and Gomorrah. But he’ll know where you are, you and your lover with the bloody hands. I did my part, God is my witness to that. I sacrificed, I offered it all up when I let that fool Summerset touch me. Not too much touching, for Audrey’s a dignified woman, and I wanted the man to keep coming back. He wanted me, oh yes, he did. Quiet evenings in his quarters, listening to music and painting.”

“And you planting bugs.”

“Easy enough, he was blind where I was concerned. I told him the painting I gave him belonged on that wall in the bedroom, and so he put it there. And we could watch him, know what he did and when he did it. He made a fine pawn for my Liam.”

“Did you tell Liam to rig my car?” Eve smiled when she saw Audrey’s lips thin. “I didn’t think so. You’re too subtle for such things, and you didn’t want me taken out so early. He did that on his own. He’s got a trigger that slips if you’re not right there to control it. You’re not there now.”

“He did penance for that. He won’t stray from the path again.”

“Won’t he? Or will he screw up now, walk right into my hands? It could get ugly, Audrey. He could be killed. You could lose him. If you tell me where he is, I can take him alive. I can promise you that he won’t be hurt.”

“Do you think I want him living out his life in a cage, in an institution?” She rose out of her seat, leaning forward.
“I’d rather he die, like a man, a martyr, with righteous vengeance in his heart, with the blood of his father at last at peace. Honor thy father and mother. The wisest of the commandments, for they bring you life. He won’t forget it. He won’t forget it, I promise you. He’ll be thinking of it when he finishes what he started.”

“There’s no moving her,” Eve said to Whitney when Audrey was removed to a cell. “She won’t give him up even to save him, and she’ll cheer if he dies finishing what she started.”

“She’ll be tested, most likely live out her life in a facility for people with violent tendencies and mental defectives.”

“She’s not as crazy as she pretends, and it’s not enough. The kid might have had a chance. You never know, he might have become something else without her ugly mothering.”

“There’s no changing the past. Go home, Dallas. You’ve done all you can do tonight.”

“I’ll just check in with Feeney first.”

“No need. He and McNab have that situation under control. If they break through and locate his other cache of equipment, they’ll contact you. Go home, Lieutenant,” he repeated before she could make an excuse. “You’ve got to be running on empty by now. Refuel, start again in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.” It was after nine
P
.
M
. in any case, she thought as she headed down to the garage. She’d go home, eat, find out what Roarke had uncovered on his end. Maybe if they ran names again with Roarke’s equipment they’d find a few probable locations.

It was a big city for someone who wanted to hide. And if he didn’t yet know about his mother . . . Eve engaged the ’link. “Nadine Furst, Channel 75.”

“This is Nadine Furst, I’m not in this location, please leave a message or contact me via e-mail or fax.”

“Transfer call to home residence. Damn it, Nadine, what are you doing taking a night off?”

“Hello. This is Nadine. I’m unavailable right now. If you’d—”

“Shit. Nadine, if you’re screening, pick up. I’ve got a ratings buster for you.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Nadine’s face popped on screen. “Working late, Dallas?”

“Later than you.”

“Hey, humans occasionally take an evening off.”

“We’re talking about reporters, not humans. You’ll want to get this on air tonight. Police have made an arrest in the matter of the recent series of homicides. Mary Patricia Calhoun, also known as Audrey Morrell, is in custody tonight as an accessory to the murders of Thomas X. Brennen, Shawn Conroy, and Jennie O’Leary. She is also charged with accessory before and after the fact in the attempted murder of Patrick Murray.”

“Hold it, hold on, I’ve barely got my recorder going.”

“First and last chance,” Eve said without sympathy. “Authorities are looking for her son, Liam Calhoun, in connection with these crimes. Call Public Relations at Cop Central if you want pictures of the alleged murderers.”

“I will. I want a one-on-one with the mother tonight.”

“Keep believing in miracles, Nadine. It’s real sweet.”

“Dallas—”

Eve ended transmission and smiled into the dark. If Nadine was up to par, the broadcast would play within thirty minutes.

By the time she pulled through the gates and headed toward home her eyes were burning with fatigue, but her system was wired. She could put in another couple of hours on hard data, she decided. Just needed some food, maybe a quick shower, at most a power nap.

She left her car in front and, rolling the kinks out of her
neck and shoulders, walked up the steps. In the foyer, she shrugged out of her jacket, tossed it over the newel post. And sighed. She’d have preferred avoiding Summerset, but he deserved to know that he was completely off the hook. Normally he would have simply materialized, scowl first.

“Sulking somewhere,” Eve muttered and turned to the house screener. “Locate Summerset.”

Summerset is in the main parlor.

“Sulking all right.” She blew out a breath. “You heard me come in, bone ass. Much as I prefer the cold shoulder to your usual raft of complaints . . .” she began as she strode toward the parlor.

Then she stopped. The hand that itched for her weapon rose slowly up, until she held both in plain sight, palms out.

“A self-starter. I appreciate that.” Liam smiled from behind the chair where Summerset was secured with cord. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, moving the thin silver tool he held a hairbreadth from Summerset’s right eye.

“No, but it looks efficient.”

“Laser scalpel. One of the finest medical tools currently in use. I’ve only to engage it to destroy his eye. And with him, a whoremonger, I’d keep going until I’d sliced right through the brain.”

“I don’t know, Liam, his brain’s pretty small. You might miss it.”

“You don’t even like him.” His grin widened as Summerset simply closed his eyes. For an instant, he was a young, attractive man with sparkling eyes and a smile full of charm and promise. “That was part of the fun I enjoyed the most. You worked so hard on his behalf, and you must hate him as much as I do.”

“Nah. I’m more ambivalent, really. Why don’t you ease
back on the laser? Unless you’re into droids, good help’s really hard to find these days.”

“I need you to take out your weapon, Lieutenant, using your thumb and index finger. Put it on the floor, moving very carefully, then kick it over here. I can see you hesitate,” he added. “I should tell you I’ve adjusted this particular instrument. Its range is extended.” Amused, he turned it, aimed it at her head. “It’ll reach you, I promise, and go through your brain instead.”

“I hate doctors.” She took out her weapon. But as she crouched down as if to lay it on the floor, she flipped it into her hand. A beam shot out from the scalpel, sending a line of fire burning across her biceps. Her fingers went numb, and the stunner clattered to the floor.

“I’m afraid I anticipated that. I do know you well.” He crossed the room as he spoke, picking up her weapon as Eve fought to rise over the pain and focus. “I’m told the pain from a laser incision is excruciating. We recommend anesthesia.” He laughed and stepped back. “But you’ll live. You may want to bind up that arm. You’re getting blood all over the floor.” Willing to oblige, he leaned over and ripped the sleeve of her shirt, dropped it into her lap. “Try that.”

He watched her fumble to wrap it around the wound. Listened to her labored breathing as she fought to tie it with one hand and her teeth. “You’re a tenacious opponent, Lieutenant, and fairly clever. But you’ve failed. You were doomed to fail from the beginning. Only the righteous triumph.”

“Spare me the religious crap, Liam. Under all that holy talk, it’s all just a game to you.”

“Make a joyful noise, Lieutenant. Enjoying God’s work is a tribute to His powers, not a sin.”

“And you’ve enjoyed this.”

“Very much. Every step you took, every move you made
brought us here, tonight, where it was always meant for me to be. God’s will.”

“Your god’s an asshole.”

He struck her across the face, backhanded. “Don’t dare blaspheme. Don’t ever deride God in my presence, you whore.” He left her curled on the floor and picked up the glass of wine he’d poured while waiting for her. “Jesus drank the fruit of the grape while sitting among his enemies.” He sipped, calmed. “When Roarke arrives, the circle will be complete. I have the power of the Lord in my hands.” He grinned down at the two weapons. “And the technology of the ages.”

“He isn’t coming.” Summerset’s voice was slurred from the drugs Liam had pumped into him. “I told you he isn’t coming.”

“He’ll be here. He can’t keep away from his harlot.”

Eve clamped down on the pain and managed to get to her knees. When she looked into Liam’s face, she knew it was far too late for him. The madness his mother had planted in the child had rooted deep in the man.

“How the hell did you let this Bible-thumping fuckhead into our house?”

“Do you want me to hurt you again?” Liam demanded. “Do you want more pain?”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“I thought he was the police,” Summerset said wearily. “He was driving a cruiser, wearing a uniform. He said you’d sent him.”

“Couldn’t break the security field here, could you, Liam. Just a little over your head.”

“With time I would have.” His face went sulky, like a child’s denied a favored treat. “There’s nothing I can’t do. But I’m tired of waiting.”

“You missed the last two times, didn’t you?” Eve forced herself to her feet, clamped her teeth together as the pain
sang through her. “You didn’t get Brian, and you didn’t finish Pat Murray. He’s going to make a full recovery, and he’ll point across the courtroom at you at your trial.”

“They were simply tests of my commitment. God always tests His disciples.” But he pressed his fingers to his lips, rubbed them there. “It’s almost over now. It’s the last round, and you lose.” Eyes bright as a bird’s, he cocked his head. “You might want to sit down, Lieutenant. You lost some blood, and you’re looking very pale.”

“I’ll stand. Aren’t you going to tell me your game plan? That’s how it works. What’s the point in ending it if you don’t brag first?”

“I don’t consider it bragging. I’m honoring my father, avenging his death. Point by bloody point. When I’m done here, I’ll go back for Kelly and Murray and one more. Suffocation, drowning, then poison. Six sinners for the six martyred, and three to make nine for the novena. After that, he’ll rest in peace.”

He set the laser down to run a finger down the folds of the veil of the Virgin Mother he’d placed on a table. “The order’s changed, but God understands. Tonight, Roarke will walk into his own private hell. His longtime companion, his trusted friend, dead. His whore, his slut cop, dead. It will look as if they did away with each other. A terrible fight right here in his own home, a fight for life, for death. For a moment, just for a moment, he’ll believe that.”

He smiled at Eve. “Then I’ll step out and he’ll know the truth. The pain will be worse then, unbearable, excruciating. He’ll know what it is to lose, to have all that matters stolen from him. He’ll know that by his own evil he brought the angel of death into this house. The avenging sword.”

“Angel. Avenging Angel.” She had to risk it, play on his madness. “A. A.? Is that where you got your cover? We know all about you. Everything. How you infiltrated Roarke’s company, worked on his equipment. Stole from
him.” She stepped closer, keeping her eyes steady on his. “We know where you came from, where you’ve been. We found your hole. Your picture’s on the news right now. Right next to your mother’s.”

“You’re lying. Lying whore.”

“How do I know who you are? How do I know about A. A.? And the dinky little room in your mother’s apartment where you kept your equipment. And the other place, downtown.”
It has to be downtown,
she told herself. “The bugs your mother planted in Summerset’s quarters. We played the game, Liam, and we beat you. What we didn’t find out, Audrey filled in. Right before I locked her in a cage.”

“You’re lying!” He screamed it, and rushed her.

Braced and ready, Eve met the attack, using her uninjured arm to block the blow, her elbow jabbing into his stomach. She got her foot under him, threw her weight into the move, and sent them both tumbling to the floor. She ignored the eye-searing pain when he fell on her injured arm; slamming her fist up, she connected with bone. But she’d miscalculated the strength rage would bring him.

It was she who screamed when he dug his fingers into her wound, and the room swam blackly. When her vision cleared he had her weapon on her throat, where firing it even at midsetting could be fatal.