“She was murdered.”
“And McQueen should pay for it. You need to have a part in that not because of the connection, but because she was murdered. She was murdered here, in Dallas, by a man you see as very like your father. You want to walk away from it, and you can’t. Relief won’t stop you from seeking justice for her. That conflict causes you stress, unhappiness, self-doubt. I hope by admitting what you felt, what you feel, some of that will ease.”
“I would’ve put her away, built the case to put her away. I thought there’d be some justice. Locking her up, the way she’d done to me.”
“She chose the monster, again.”
“She thought he was still alive. Richard Troy. I brought him up, testing, I guess. She thought he was still alive. I let her think he’d given us information on her.”
“Well played,” Roarke commented, then lifted his eyebrows at her frown. “Sorry, was that cold? Am I supposed to feel otherwise?”
“No.” Eve looked down at her wine. “No.”
“I wish she were alive, that’s the God’s shining truth. So I could imagine her in a cage for the decades to come. But we live with disappointment.”
“You hate her. I can’t.”
“I’ve enough for both of us.”
“I feel disgust, and—God, I wish I had the words. I feel a little shame, and there’s no point getting pissed off because I feel what I feel. I’d rather feel hate. If she’d lived, I might’ve gotten there. So maybe I feel a little cheated as well as relieved. I don’t know what that says.”
“In my professional opinion?” Mira crossed her fine legs. “It says you have a very healthy reaction to a very unhealthy situation. The two of you have been scraped raw by this, yet here you are. With your cat.”
Eve let out a weak laugh while Galahad continued to snore at her feet, all four legs in the air.
“You need sleep. If you want medication, I can arrange it.”
“I’d rather not.”
“I’ll be here if you change your mind.”
“It’s good to have a doctor on tap in case I bloody him again.”
“For now I prescribe food and rest.”
“I could eat,” Eve realized. “It’s the first time I’ve actually wanted to all day.”
“That’s a good sign. I’m just next door if you need me.”
“Stay, have a meal with us,” Roarke began.
“Another time. I think the two of you should just be together awhile. If anything breaks on the case, I’d like to be informed.”
“Sure.” Eve stepped forward when Mira rose. “It helped, a lot, you coming. Listening.”
Mira brushed a hand over Eve’s hair. “Maybe it’s the influence of my daughter—the Wiccan. While I think we have to make the most out of our life while we’re here, I believe we get more than one chance. When we get another chance, there are connections, people, recognition. I recognize you, Eve, and always have. That’s unscientific, and absolute truth. I’ll be right here.”
Roarke walked her to the door, then, leaning down, kissed Mira softly on the lips. “Thank you.”
After closing the door, he turned to Eve. “You’re loved. One day, I hope when you think of ‘mother’ you’ll think of her.”
“When I think of good I think of her. That’s something.”
“It is.”
“I’m sorry. I made this harder on you than I needed to.”
“That goes both ways.”