Behind Blue Eyes

She flashed me a genuine smile. "Uncle Howard! Did you have a nice trip?"

"More productive than I expected."

"So I see. You know most people collect shot glasses or those kitschy little spoons as souvenirs, not hostages."

Danni was always a bit of a smart ass.

"Danni, this is Evelyn. Evelyn, this is Danni."

Danni gave Evie a distantly polite nod and a bit of a smile. Then looked at me. "I thought you were going to kill her."

I could see the off-handedness of the comment took Evie off guard.

"Plans change Danni - not everything was what it looked like, she's an ally, not a hostage."

She shrugged, "I suppose we can always shoot her later."

"Shoot who?" A melodic, lightly Russian-accented purr from the doorway. I didn't have to look. Even if I hadn't heard the voice, from Evie's wide eyes and Danni's smirk, it had to be Angel.

Danni gestured toward Evie. "This is Evelyn."

"Alive?"

I glanced over at Angel and counted the almost-required three heartbeats. I'd seen her countless times in everything from pregnancy dresses to scraps of bloody shirt, but nobody was immune. Golden hair, startling blue eyes and beautiful pink lips.

With smeared lipstick - that must have been why Angel lagged behind, she just couldn't walk past Grease without kissing him as if they'd been apart for years.

Like Danni, it was almost impossible to believe she'd born children. And she had three.

In Angel's case it was probably some form of magic. I'd never seen her exercise at all, unless you count gleefully chasing her little girls on the beach.

Evie managed to speak "You must be the Angel the angry girl was talking about."

Angel just smiled.

Evie turned to look at me. "Just how many people know you were planning on killing me?"

I thought back to the uncomfortable conversations I'd had before setting off. Explaining to my friends - my family, really - what I was doing and why. Nobody had even questioned my decision to kill Evelyn and Emma, or my desire for vengeance on The Reinhardt, just some concern over the possible reactions of the FBI and CUMULOUS GREEN.

"Nine."

"Doesn't seem like you were keeping it very secret."

"Do they seem like the talkative type to you?"

She looked over Danni and Angel critically. "Not really."

"I needed their help; and if I failed, I wanted them to know what was likely to come down the tracks."

Danni settled in the chaise across from us. "Tracks work both ways. If something had happened to Howard we'd have come looking for answers."

Her voice sounded all too much like her mother's sometimes. But she was a Daddy's girl all the way. Of Monster's three children, she was the most like him.

As relentless, calculating and pragmatic as a machine when necessary.

I waved Angel over. "Evelyn - Evie - is going to help me. She has reasons of her own to take down Reinhardt."

"So she can have all his money too?" Spooky had come in at some point and was behind the bar, slicing up some of the fruit Evie and I had bought. She didn't bother to mask her distaste.

I could see Evie struggling with the "discretion versus valor" equation; sooner or later her pride was going to win out. She just wasn't used to being talked to like this, even if she suspected just how dangerous Spooky was. With her pride and Spooky's anger I doubted it would be a pleasant scene.

She managed, at least this time, to reign herself in. "For my daughter and my grandchildren. They can burn all the God damned money in Times Square for all I care."

Spooky looked doubtful about that, but I could see that the idea of Evie protecting her family had tripped her up. She'd only become a mother a few months before I'd left, but it had hit her like an anvil. I'd seen her staring into her baby's face, then at Pogo, completely lost as to how her train wreck of a life had reached this bizarre point.

Evie sensed her hesitation. "I'm not a monster, just a grandmother trying to do the right thing."

Spooky shot her a scowl, but seemed slightly mollified. "We already have a Monster anyway."

Danni's smile broadened slightly at the mention of her father; Angel was simply ignoring the whole thing, pulling a couple beach towels and sunblock out of one of the lockers.

The engine growled to life below us - we could barely hear it, but it was enough of a signal.

Angel smiled, almost blindingly. "We have to go be distractions."

Danni smirked. "We're going to sunbathe on deck on the way out of the harbor. Topless. They'll remember us, remember the boat, but they'll swear there were just four of us."

She looked over at Spooky who cut off her unspoken question.

"I don't think so. They wouldn't notice me with you two up there anyway." Spooky grabbed her plate of fruit. "I'll see if Grease needs me to man his radio or something."

I watched them walk out. Angel was already untying her top -there was no way she'd pass up the opportunity to grab Grease for another kiss on her way up to deck, and I guessed she was looking for maximum impact while she had an excuse.

Grease was a very lucky man.

Evie stared after them until they were out of sight. "So what's her problem with me? Is she some kind of anarchist?"

"She's not political at all. Probably never heard of Chomsky. Just doesn't like rich people."

She glanced around the yacht. "Really? She seems pretty comfortable here."

"Grease and Angel are her friends and they didn't start off rich. Besides this boat is part of their fishing charter service, not a personal limousine."

I wasn't really ready to explain how Grease and Angel had come by their money. Especially since the official report said her nasty gunrunner 'husband' had drowned on a night fishing trip to the Deeps - and made no mention at all of the four Russian mafia gunmen who'd also disappeared.

It was all very official, with signed affidavits from a couple respected business owners and the Chief of Police.

"She's also possessive and protective about people she sees as family."

"Which includes you doesn't it?"

"Yeah. I think I'm sort of her adopted father. I think of her as my daughter."

Spooky had once drunk too much and told me I was the only father she'd ever really had.

Something, a cross between understanding and sorrow flashed over Evie's face, but it was gone in less than a heartbeat.

"That explains that."

"Some of it, I suppose, but don't sell the effects of growing up 'in the system' short."

She was looking down at her feet. "It's funny. Well, not funny, maybe just... odd. I'm sure at times Emma wished she was an orphan like her. The way I treated Emma, I wonder if I did just as much damage to her as..."

She glanced up and stopped, looking at the doorway.

Where Spooky was standing motionless. Unreadable.

As soon as we made eye contact, she slipped back and flickered away.

I moved looking at Evie. "I need to talk to her."

Evie nodded quickly wide-eyed.

I caught Spooky on the stern - there just aren't many good places to hide on a 68 foot yacht.

She was looking at me with shock. I was completely prepared to warn her off of Evie, to defend myself for talking about her.

I wasn't prepared at all for how shaky her voice was, or how lost it sounded.

"Your daughter?"

"I did give you away at the wedding, didn't I?"

"But that was a favor to Pogo." She sounded almost desperate. Scared. And Spooky was never scared.

"How many people have you ever told why you like to grill on Beach Party Fridays?"

"I couldn't have been that drunk."

I laughed out loud and made a smacking motion with my right hand. At butt level. She flushed beet red.

Another first.

She'd been coming back to see Pogo for almost a year when it happened. She'd expected they'd have a good time until the mutual attraction faded. And she was sure Pogo felt the same way.

Until he came up short handed and she found herself manning the grill, under the stars, on the beach. Pogo, shuttling food back and forth, slapped her lightly on the butt as he walked by.

She had shot him a look and he'd grinned in response. "Can't pass my girl when she's cooking without smacking her on the ass."

And that, as they say, was that. She'd realized that what he'd said was more true than all the expectations or self-deceiving bullshit they'd been feeding themselves. She was his girl. And he was all hers. The next year had been one of quiet desperation as she tried to figure out how to tell him she felt the same way. Grilling every chance she got. Pogo never missing that possessive little gesture. Until she'd come up pregnant and everything had come out.

She reached out and just touched my fingertips with hers. From her, that was a full-on bear hug with rivers of tears.

"So is that my new step-mom?" Grim humor.

"We are comfortable allies."

"You're tapping that though, right?"

"Very ladylike, Spooky."

She smiled, a Cheshire cat smile, hungry and dark. "You are! Seriously, you're hanging horns on the guy that started a genocidal war in central Africa to raise oil prices a dollar and thirty seven cents. Fifty thousand dead. You win the award for the biggest brass balls in history since the guy banging Josephine. Charles, whatever-it-was."

"Hippolyte Charles." I paused. "And since when did you..."

"The only books Pogo has are military history books. All over the damn house." She was trying to look irritated and failing badly, smug self-satisfaction at surprising me glimmering through.

She shifted uncomfortably and ran one hand through her hair "This is going to get bad, isn't it."

"For him."

She looked back over the waves. "I think Donna may know what's going on. Some of it anyway. It wasn't me."

"Probably Maria Hawthorne."

"The Triple B?"

I just waited for her to explain.

"The Bad-Ass Bitch of the Bureau. The Deputy Director. Supposed to be hard as a coffin nail."

"Yeah, her. I'm on her radar. Must have fucked up somewhere."

"We all fuck up somewhere. But if she knows, why are you walking around free?"

"I think she has a dog in the fight. A personal thing. I think she's fond of Evelyn's daughter Emma, the one she is trying to protect."

Spooky raised an eyebrow.

"Not that way. I guess Evelyn wasn't the best mother, her daughter hated her, and it looks like Maria kind of took over."

"Well we're a real merry band of losers, aren't we? Fuck-ups, whores, sociopaths, obsessive murderers and drunks. Shit. Isn't anyone just normal anymore?"

She actually smiled a bit warmly, when she said that. Then she shook her head with a wry look. "Probably ought to beat the rush and get a mother's day card. She fits right in."

By the time we went back to the salon, the sun was low on the horizon and there were soft rustling sounds coming from the enclosed bridge. Angel had probably slipped in there as soon as we'd cleared the harbor. Her bikini bottoms were lying on the deck outside the helm door. Spooky just hung them on the latch without comment.

Evie was in animated conversation with Danni as we entered. She ground to a halt and watched us warily.

Spooky took a deep breath. "Alright. What's the plan?"

Evie set her jaw. I could see her anger at The Reinhardt was as black and hardened as iron.

"Money. Pride. Legacy."

By the time we reached the Islands, the Plan was roughed out.

***

Grease and Angel's two oldest girls came screaming down the dock, bolts of golden haired lightning, while their youngest girl rode on the shoulders of a monster.

The Monster.

He jogged after Kisa and Lily, with the smooth stride of leopard, the toddler's hands gripping his hair on one side and scarred ridges on the other while she smiled and laughed.

His clear eye flicked over us as we walked toward them. He lingered on Spooky a little less than he used to - she'd dropped a bit on his threat matrix since her baby was born. But he hung his gaze on Evie for a moment, figuring out when he should kill her, rather than if.

Just as he placed us all. Maybe even his own daughter.

Danni pushed a little ahead of us. Partly to make eye contact with her father, partly because she could see Ex and her own little boy - they'd stopped to poke at something back on the beach.

Spooky hung back near me - she'd been doing that a lot since our discussion. She knew her own little boy would be exactly where he should be, with Pogo while he worked at The Shack.

Monster gave a smile and a cheerful greeting, a meaningless line that meant nothing to him except for its value at making him look human.

Ex came up beside him, handing Danni her little boy as she eyed Evie.

"Alive?"

Evie rolled her eyes like a teen age girl. "I don't know whether it disturbs me more that everyone keeps saying that, or that I'm getting used to it."

Ex smiled a smile that was possibly less meaningful than Monster's.

Sometimes I wondered if she was a monster of sorts herself.

Ex shrugged. "I suppose we can always just shoot you later."

Evie's gaze shifted from Ex to Danni and back. "Your daughter's just like you."

"Oh, she's a bit like of both of us."

I took one of Grease and Angel's golf carts to shuttle Evie back to my house.

She looked over the small beach house. "It kind of reminds me of the camper. Small, efficient. One bed."

She smiled and tossed her backpack down by the bed. "What are they going to do with our camper anyway? And your guns?" She had a wistful tone.

"Wendy will put the camper in storage in case we... I need it again, and the guns will get here soon enough."

I had more stashed here anyway.

I checked the place over quickly - nature likes to nibble on houses in the tropics, and sometimes takes rather large bites without warning - but it was near dinner time on Friday. And Grease's two other charter boats had been out when we got in, so Pogo might appreciate a hand for the Beach Party.

We could hear the sound of Jimmy Buffet rising over the sound of the waves long before we reached The Shack.

We ran into Pogo on the beach.

"This must be Evie." He nodded to her.

Evie sighed, "Yes. Alive. And yes, you can always shoot me later."

Pogo grinned. "Obviously."

I shook my head. "She's working with us on this - trying to protect her kid and grandkids from her husband."

"Spooks said you had a plan. Right before she nudged Chief out of the way and took over the grill. Didn't get a chance to talk about it."

"We'll start working on it tomorrow."

He looked to Evie "Yeah. I need to get back to running this Party. Nice to meet you, and if I have to shoot you, I'll make it quick, I promise."

Evie tilted her head politely. "Thank you, I'd appreciate that."

With the Party in full swing I figured it would be a little easier to grab a table in The Shack - the bonfires and grill were almost 50 yards away.

As soon as we entered, though, Danni and Ex pounced, dragging Evie away. Apparently, tie dye blouses, love beads and jeans are inappropriate attire for the Friday Beach Party.

I shrugged and went out to the grill to grab a couple plates of finger foods and wait for her to return. I hoped Danni wouldn't find a reason to kill her out of hand.

While I was loading the plates, I saw Spooky jump as Pogo crossed behind her. She gave him a glare, then caught my eye with a sly look and went back to turning steaks.

Evie returned in a silvery sarong with a couple of bags.

"Apparently I was out of uniform. Sarongs are required on Fridays. Shorts and t-shirts are okay on other days, although sarongs are still preferred. Oddly, while tie-dye is forbidden, batik is fine, even encouraged. You could have told me the dress code, you know."

"I didn't know it applied to kidnap victims."

"I wonder if there's an etiquette guide for kidnap victims. That would be a huge help."

"I'd think it would be kind of hard to order tied up in a basement."

Evie looked up over my shoulder.

"It is." Spooky's voice floated from behind me.

I looked up at her and she put her hand on my shoulder.

"You're not the first one to be kidnapped. Mine sentenced me to purgatory for 12 years before I tracked him back down. And he planned to kill me at first too."

"So you were kidnapped and ravished by a pirate too?"

"The actual kidnapping isn't much fun, but the ravishing is pretty good."

"It is."

They'd reached some kind of truce, some kind of understanding that I wasn't completely privy to, but I was perfectly okay with that. I had enough sense to realize I wasn't likely to comprehend it, even if they explained it.

As we walked back to the house, Evie nudged up against me. "Apparently one is not supposed to wear anything under the sarong."

***

The next afternoon we staged our counsel of war.

Evie explained the plan.

Pogo leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, watching one of the woven wicker fans slowly rotate. "You need to call Kurt. You're about to seriously piss this guy off. Get more security on the kids. Kurt's good, but you need to get him all the back-up you can."

Monster's head swiveled like a weapons turret. He'd been watching the scrum of kids playing in the sand. He stared at me for a second. But didn't say anything. Ex was watching him out of the corner of her eye. Like she always did.

She shifted. "What are the odds he can track back to here?"

I thought for a second. "Low. Not non-existent, but damn low. Kurt, Needles and the rest have no idea where we are. Only Wendy can even link us to Fiji. I'll warn her to lay on extra security."

Evie spoke up. "Is there a way I can get on the internet safely? I can send more money to Katie."

Pogo nodded. "I have a couple ways to do it. It'll track to Europe. I have a satellite phone that will tell lies about where it is too. Have her call it."

Pogo set the connection up and within a half hour, the phone Pogo had handed me was ringing.

Katie. Terse. "Talk to me. We just got dropped enough money to hire an infantry brigade."

I explained in as much detail as I could what we were looking at.

"So we need to be prepared for an all-out war in Northern Virginia. For how long?"

"This won't last forever. Six months, either it will work or it won't."

***

Our moves were subtle at first - The news stories in the European society pages had been relatively benign since we'd disappeared.

Just in case she'd run off for a liaison with a ski instructor or something equally lurid but somewhat expected of the super elite.

It wouldn't do to tar Evelyn Cabot too heavily. It just wasn't done.

Now though, various Boards of Directors were beginning to show concern. Part of their marriage had been a vast exchange of shares. Evelyn's proxy votes had time limits, a method she'd used to shield herself from The Reinhardt. As the time limits began to run out, large blocks of shares were starting to go unvoted.

Uncertainty.

Markets and financial institutions hate uncertainty.

The Reinhardt began to move to take over her votes, but the tangle of legal difficulties was almost beyond comprehension. Over the last few years, Evelyn had moved to protect her daughter and grandchildren from his influence.

Which meant creating a web of interconnected and independent legal roadblocks against him.

To make matters even more uncertain, she contacted her banker, sending proxy authorizations and instructions that caused even more damage. The financial maneuvers her husband had always used to pull more money weren't possible without her help, or at least her submissive acceptance.

The Reinhardt was furious - losing insane amounts of money - and shares. He sent burning messages to her banker to be relayed to her.