Memory in Death (In Death 22)

“And if I find that measure of compensation a bit too dear?”

“For a man of your means, I can’t imagine, but… I’d be forced to mention the possibility of my—being upset by all this—discussing the situation with someone. Maybe a reporter.”

He swiveled lazily again. “And that would concern me, because…”

“Being a sentimental woman, I kept files on every one of the children I was in charge of. I have histories, details—and some of those might be difficult, even embarrassing for you and for Eve. Did you know, for instance, that she’d had sexual relations repeatedly, and all before she was nine years old?”

“And do you equate rape with sexual relations?” His tone was mild as milk, even as his blood boiled. “That’s quite unenlightened of you, Ms. Lombard.”

“Regardless of what you call it, I think some people might feel a woman with that kind of thing in her makeup isn’t the sort who should be a lieutenant of the police department. I’m not sure of that myself,” she added. “Maybe it’s my civic duty to talk to the media, maybe her superiors at the police station.”

“But two million—that’s USD—would outweigh your civic duty.”

“I just want what’s coming to me. Did you know she had blood on her when she was found? She… or someone else… washed most of it off, but they did tests.”

Her eyes were brighter now, as bold and as sharp as her long red nails. “And not all the blood was he

rs.

“She used to have nightmares,” Trudy continued. “And it seemed to me that she was stabbing somebody to death in those nightmares. I wonder what people would make of that, if I was upset and said something. I bet people’d pay good money for a story like that, considering who she is now. And who she’s married to.”

“They might,” Roarke agreed. “People often enjoy wallowing in another’s pain and misery.”

“So I don’t think the compensation I mentioned is too dear. I’ll just I take it and go back to Texas. Eve won’t have to think about me again, even after all I did for her.”

“You’ve misspoken. It was to her, not for her. Now then, what you don’t understand, Ms. Lombard, is I’m compensating you right now.”

“You’d better think before—”

“I’m compensating you,” he interrupted, “by not getting up, coming over there, and twisting your head off your neck with my bare hands.”

She gasped, theatrically. “You’re threatening me?”

“Indeed, I’m not,” he continued in the same easy tone. “I’m explaining to you how you’re being compensated for walking away from this. I’m telling you what’s not happening to you, and believe me, it’s costing me dearly not to put my hands on you for what you did to my wife when she was defenseless.”

He rose, slowly. There wasn’t a gasp this time, and no theatrics. She simply froze as all the blood drained out of her face. Finally, he decided, she saw what was under his own shell, under the sophistication, the style, the manners money had bought him. Even a viper hadn’t a prayer against it.

With his eyes on hers, he came around the desk, then leaned back against it. Close enough that he heard her breath shudder out.

“Do you know what could be done, what I could do like that?” He snapped his ringers. “I could kill you, here and now, without a flinch. I could have as many people as I deemed appropriate swear you’d left this office hale and hearty. I could have security discs altered to prove it. They’d never find your body—what was left of it when I was done with you. So consider your life—which I assume is worth a considerable amount to you—your compensation.”

“You must be crazy.” She shrank back in her chair. “You must be out of your mind.”

“Consider that if you ever think of bargaining with me again… If you consider lining your pockets by speaking of a child’s torture and nightmare for money… If you ever attempt to contact my wife again… Think of that, and be afraid. Be afraid,” he repeated, leaning toward her a bit, “because restraining myself from carving pieces of you away, slowly, one at a time, is irritating. I dislike being irritated.”

He took one step toward her, had her scrambling to her feet and backing toward the door. “Oh, and you may want to pass the message on to your son, should he feel inclined to try my patience.”

When she reached the door, fumbled behind her for it, he spoke softly. “There’s nowhere in or off this world you could hide from me if you do anything more to hurt my wife. Nowhere I wouldn’t go to settle with you for it.” He waited a beat, smiled, and said: “Run.”

She ran, and he heard a thin scream, like a wheezing breath as her footsteps pounded away. He dipped his hands in his pockets, closed one over Eve’s button again as he walked back to study the dank gloom of the December sky.

“Sir?”

He didn’t turn as his admin stepped into his office. “Yes, Caro.”

“Did you want Security to monitor Ms. Lombard’s exit?”

“That won’t be necessary.”