Remember When

shoulder. "I don't like to use civilians as bait. I could put a cop in her place. We can fix one up to look enough like her to pass."
    "He'd have studied her. He might see through it."
    "Might. Hell, he might even know her. Anyway, I'm too tall. Peabody's the wrong body type."
    "A droid could be fashioned."
    "Droids only do what they're programmed to do." And she never fully trusted machines. "Bait needs to be able to think. There's someone else he might go for."
    "Judith Crew."
    "Yeah. If she's still alive, he might try for her. Or the son. If neither one of them is a part of this, he might push those buttons. There's nobody else left from back then, nobody with direct knowledge of what went down, and how. He can't even be sure they exist."
    "Eat."
    Distracted, she looked down at the pizza. Because it was there, she picked it up, bit in, chewed.
    "It's a kind of fantasy. Now that I see he's younger than I assumed, it makes more sense to me. It's a treasure hunt. He wants them because he feels he's entitled to them, and because they're valuable, but also because they're shiny," she added, thinking of Peabody outside the display windows at Fifth and Forty-seventh.
    "You talked me into swimming around that reef off the island. Remember? You said not to wear my pendant deal. Not only because, hey, big fat diamonds can get lost in the ocean, but because I shouldn't wear anything shiny in there. Barracudas get hyped up when something shines and gleams in the water and can take great big, nasty bites out of you."
    "So you have a barracuda on a treasure hunt."
    Yeah, she liked bouncing a case off Roarke, Eve thought. You didn't have to tell him anything twice, and half the time didn't have to tell him the first time.
    "I don't know where this is taking me, but let's play it out. He wants them because he feels entitled, because they're valuable and because they're shiny. This tells me he's spoiled, greedy and childish. And mean. The way a bully's mean. He killed not only because it was expedient but because he could. Because they were weaker and he had the advantage. He hurt Cobb because there was time to, and he was probably bored by her. This is how I see him. I don't know what it gets me."
    "Recognition. Keep going."
    "I think he's used to getting what he wants. Taking it if it isn't given. Maybe he's stolen before.
    There was probably a safer way to get information, but he chose this way. It's more exciting to take something that isn't yours in the dark than to bargain for it in the light."
    "I certainly used to think so."
    "Then you grew up."
    "Well, in my way. There's a thrill about the dark, Eve. Once you've experienced it, it's difficult to resist."
    "Why did you? Resist."
    "I wanted something else. More." He took her wine for a sip. "I'd built my way toward it, with the occasional and often recreational side step. Then I wanted you. There's nothing in the dark I could want as I want you."
    "He doesn't have anyone. He doesn't love. He doesn't want anyone. It's things he craves. Shiny things that gleam in the dark. They're shinier, Roarke, because they already have blood on them.
    And I think, I'm damn sure, some of that blood runs in him. They're more valuable to him, more important to him, because of the blood."
    She rolled her shoulders. "Yeah, I'll recognize him. I'll know him when I see him. But none of this gets me any closer to where he is."
    "Why don't you get some rest?"
    She shook her head. "I want to look at the matches."
    ***
    Steven Whittier sipped Earl Grey out of his favorite red mug. He claimed it added to the flavor, a statement that caused his wife, who preferred using the antique Meissen, to act annoyed. Still, she loved him as much for his everyman ways as she did for his sturdiness, dependability and humor.
    The match between them-the builder and the society princess-had initially baffled and flustered her family. Patricia was vintage wine and caviar, and Steve was beer and soy dogs. But she'd dug in her fashionable heels and ignored her family's dire predictions. Thirty-two years later, everyone had forgotten those predictions except Steve and Pat.
    Every year on their anniversary, they tapped glasses to the toast of "It'll never last." After which, they would laugh like children pulling one over on a bunch of grown-ups.
    They'd built a good life, and even his early detractors had been forced to admit Steve Whittier had brains and ambition, and had managed to use both to provide Pat with a