Page 140 of Bonded in Death

Summerset understood immediately. “You were injured. You shielded them. He shot you.”

“I was wearing protection,” she repeated. “It was, and is, my job to protect civilians. I sustained a minor injury, which has been treated.”

“He knew you would.”

Summerset got to his feet. Eve realized she’d never seen him pace before. It made him almost human.

“He would have studied you, researched you. Know your enemy. Anticipate, act. He knew you’d stop the pursuit long enough to shield the civilians. And he’d use that to get away.”

“I guess I could’ve put the mission first priority, and let him shoot someone.”

“That’s hardly what I meant, and you’re well aware of it,” Summerset snapped right back at her. “You’re sniping because you’re justifiably angry he got away from you. You had no choice, he gave you no choice. He knew it.”

“He was never very good with a handgun.” When the cat jumped into his lap, Harry stroked. “I’d say he hasn’t gotten any better. Otherwise, he’d have gone for you and a head shot. He went for the women—two, so bigger target—hoping you’d get in the way, and knowing if he hit one of them, you’d have to stop, help. He did it because he’s a poor shot and a coward who doesn’t give one ripe shit.”

“I agree with all of that.” Ivanna let out a sigh. “He went into the military, I believe, because he envisioned having power over others. Giving orders more than receiving them. He went into intelligence, as he appreciated the idea of deception, of using the enemy’s weakness and secrets against them. Then into the cops again for the power and authority. He joined us to benefit from both sides, as he had no allegiance.”

“And to profit,” Iris added.

“And to profit. It’s all very clear in hindsight, but in the fog of war, we believed him one of us.”

“You went into that particular building,” Marjorie reminded Eve. “Why?”

“As I said, he might have infiltrated the painting crew.”

“There were other buildings with a view of the restaurant, but you broke off from your team to check that one. Only that one. You had a feeling in the belly.”

Eve started to speak, stopped. She sipped some wine, thought it through. Roarke had it right. No point in censoring the briefing.

“That building afforded the best view, and offered two units, vacant, he could potentially use. And where he could… savor. You said that. Ihad a feeling about that building, those two units when Peabody and I went through in the morning.”

She drank again.

“I didn’t listen to my gut, not enough. We had to cover the area, and I had to stay off the street because he’d recognize me. If I’d listened to my gut, I’d have stationed myself in 3-C and another officer in 5-A.

“And I’d have him in the box right now.”

“You had to cover the area.” Ivan spoke again. “Because he could have chosen any of those locations. Any of them. And he would certainly be armed, which put civilian lives at risk. You chose the most logical, broad-based strategy.”

“And I missed.”

“Well, bugger, that never happens to anyone, ever,” Harry commented.

With a smile, Marjorie lifted her glass. “What does your gut tell you now?”

“He has a place, a detached house with a garage. On the West Side. The house is bigger than he needs, but he has to have the space, the freedom of space. It’ll be in a good neighborhood, convenient to high-end shops and restaurants, probably near enough to a food shop that carries the candy he likes.”

“Couldn’t get that in prison, could he?” Marjorie nodded. “He’d want his peppermint creams. What else?”

As she spoke, sipped at the wine, Eve circled the board again.

“He uses an old-school but high-end barber. Most likely gets that fancy shave once or twice a week. We’re working that now. He has a tailor, a bootmaker. He’s not as well-funded as he was when he started, but he needs the high-end. He won’t go back.”

Can’t go back, Eve thought.

“He’s stuck in the past, not only because of the mission, which is kill all of you, and me after he’s done that. Before if need be. But because that’s when he had power and control.”

“Too much of both,” Iris murmured. “Hindsight. Is anything more frustrating than hindsight?”

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