She got out, her hand gripping the younger child's, the baby in the crook of her arm. "We won't forget you."
"Nor I you. Be safe."
He watched them until they were out of sight. "Well, Godspeed," he whispered, then took out his 'link and contacted Louise.
It was nearly two hours before Eve joined him. She took one look at the mobile clinic beside his car and hissed. "Look, I'm tired. I want to go home."
"Soon as I do a little triage, you're off." Louise pointed toward the mobile. "Unfortunately I don't have fumigation facilities on board. The pair of you reek."
It was coming onto dawn. Rather than waste more time, she sat in the mobile. "No tranqs, no blockers. It's bad enough without me getting goofy." She gave Roarke a hard look, but he merely smiled.
"I don't mind the tranq myself. Smooths out nasty edges."
"He zoned?" she asked Louise, and hissed as the wand rolled over her arm wound.
"A little bit. Mostly just exhausted. Lost considerable blood, too. Bad gash in his arm, and with that and the head wound, I don't know how he managed to stay upright this long. Same for you. I'd rather take you both into the clinic."
"I'd rather be in Paris drinking champagne."
"We'll go tomorrow." Roarke stirred himself enough to sit beside her.
"You've got a houseful of Irish relatives."
"Right you are. We'll stay home and get drunk instead. My Irish relatives should appreciate a good drunk. If not, well, they're no true relations of mine, are they?"
"Wonder what they're going to think when we get home, stinking, bloody, and beat to shit. God damn it, Louise!"
"Easier on you with a tranq. You called it."
Eve blew air out her nose, then sucked it in to brace for the next medical onslaught. "I'll tell you what they'll think. That we lead full and interesting lives."
"I love you, darling Eve." Roarke nuzzled a kiss at her throat. "And blah, blah, blah."
"More than a little zoned," was Eve's opinion.
"Go home and get some sleep." Louise sat back. "Charles and I will come early. I'll give you another treatment."
"The fun never ends." She hopped out, didn't quite disguise the wince at the jar on her injured hip.
"Thank you, Louise." Roarke took her hand, kissed it.
"All in a day's work. I live a full and interesting life, too."
Eve waited until the mobile pulled out. "Where's Diana, and the other two?"
He looked toward the sky, noted the stars were going out. "I couldn't say."
"You let them go."
His eyes were tired, but perfectly clear when they met hers. "Did you intend to do differently?"
She didn't speak for a moment. "I contacted Feeney to request he shut down the tracker. No need. When the place blew, the homers disengaged. Officially, Diana Rodriguez is dead. Lost in the explosion that took place in the Quiet Birth facilities. There's no record of the other two minors. There won't be."
"And no one exists, officially, without records."
"There's technology for you. Avril Icove is missing. I have a deathbed confession that clears her of all involvement with the homicides under my jurisdiction. Even without it, the PA doesn't intend to charge. It would be an inefficient use of departmental time and funds to attempt to locate her, at this time. Federal authorities may think different."
"But they won't find her."
"Unlikely."
"How much heat will you take over this?"
"Minimal. Nadine's going to blast this out of the water in a couple hours. What was in there, belowground?" She turned to study the center. "It's gone. Governmental authorities may be able to identify and track some of the clones, but most of them will blend into the mainstream. They're smart, after all. Far as I can see, it ends here."
"Then let's go home." He cupped her face, kissed her brow, her nose, her lips. "You and I, we've a lot to be thankful for."
"Yeah. Yeah, we do." She gripped his hand once, hard, as she had when death had been seconds behind them.
Then she let it go to walk around the car, slide in beside him.
The world wasn't a perfect place, and never would be. But just now, watching dawn come over her godforsaken city, it seemed like a damn good deal.
The End
J. D. Robb, Origin in Death
(Series: In Death # 21)
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