Missing in Death by J. D. Robb Page B

brandy. “But I looked down at what I’d done. So much blood. The way I’d found my wife and daughter, in so much blood. There was a stunner on the floor. She must have tried to stop me, I’m not sure. I picked it up. Then the woman came in.”
    “You didn’t kill her when you had the chance.”
    He shot Eve a shocked stare. “No. No, of course not. She’d done nothing. Still, I couldn’t let her just . . . It happened so quickly. I used the weapon on her, and she fell. I remember thinking, this is very unfortunate, a very unfortunate turn of events. In the old days, you thought on your feet or died. Or someone else did.”
    “You used the device on her when she came around, and took her with you,” Eve supplied.
    “Yes. I told her to hide. You can influence people when they’re under. She was to hide until she heard the alarm. I set it on her wrist unit. Then she was to go back where she came from. She wouldn’t remember. She looked so frightened when she came in and saw what I’d done. I didn’t want her to remember. I saw her with her children when we boarded. A lovely family. I hope she’s all right.”
    “She’s fine. Why the fireworks?”
    “A good distraction. You’d think I used them to get away, and I’d already be away. And my little girl loved fireworks. You know the rest, I think. You’ve hacked into my system at home, and into hers. You have a very good e-team.”
    “Why did you come here?” Eve asked. “You could be thousands of miles away.”
    “To see an old friend.” He glanced at Summerset. “Because you were involved.”
    “What difference does it make who led the investigation?”
    “All,” he said simply. “It was a kind of sign, a connection I couldn’t ignore.” He looked at Eve then with both understanding and sorrow. “I know what they did to you. They ignored the cries of a child being brutalized. They killed my child, who must have cried out for me in fear and pain. The same man ordered both. The slaughter of my family, and some years before the sacrifice of a child’s body and mind.”
    He sighed when Eve said nothing. “I couldn’t ignore that. It seemed too important. You and Mylia would be of an age now, had she lived. You lived, and you’re part of the family of my old friend. How could I ignore that?”
    “How did you come by that information?” Eve asked, her voice flat.
    “I . . . accessed it when you married. Because of my friend. I couldn’t contact you,” he said to Summerset. “It might cause you trouble, but I wanted to know your family. So I looked, and I found. I’m sorry for what was done to you. He’s dead, the one who ordered the listening post to do nothing to interfere. Years ago,” Ivan added. “I don’t know if that comforts you. It comforts me because I believe I would have killed him, killed again if he wasn’t dead.”
    “It doesn’t matter. It’s done.”
    He nodded. “So is this. There are dirty pockets in the well of the organization. She, this woman, was one of the things that crawled around inside those pockets. But still, I took her life, and it doesn’t, as I thought it would, balance the scales. Nothing can. These people shaped our lives, pieces of our lives, without giving us a choice. They took something deeply personal from us. So, when I learned it was you looking for me, I had to come. If I may?”
    He held up two fingers, pointed them at his jacket pocket. At her nod, he reached in carefully and slid out what looked like an oversized ’link.
    “It’s only the casing,” he said when both Eve and Roarke lunged for it. “I dismantled and destroyed the rest. And all the data pertaining to it.”
    Roarke let out a breath. “Well, bugger it.”
    Ivan laughed, then blinked in surprise at the sound. “It needed to be done, though I admit it was difficult. So much work.” He sighed over it. “If I’m arrested, they’ll come for me. Or others like them will come. I have knowledge and skill. Your law, your