The In Death Collection Books 21-25 - J. D. Robb [208]
Eve gave her the basics, quick and pointed. “The department feels it would be in the best interest of the investigation if my connection, however slight, with the victim was made known straight off. I’d appreciate some . . .” She couldn’t think of the right word. “. . . I guess delicacy. I don’t want big drums banging about the whole foster business.”
“I won’t, others might. Are you going to be prepared to deal with that?”
“Not much choice. The point is—and the point that should be banged is—a woman was murdered, police are investigating. Evidence indicates that the victim knew her assailant.”
“We do a one-on-one, you can put it in your own words. Get your face out there while you do. The public hasn’t forgotten the Icove business, Dallas, believe me. Seeing you, hearing you, reminds them. Oh yeah, there’s that cop who busted those crazy doctors. And when I wrap the story with that tag, that’s what they’ll focus on more than your negligible connection to a recent murder victim.”
“Maybe. Maybe.” Eve paused as their drinks were served and the waiter began his litany of the day’s specials and chef ’s recommendations.
Because the descriptions were long and rapturous—lots of “infused with” or “scented with” and “delicately swathed in”—she tuned him out and turned over Nadine’s suggestion.
“Give me the pasta thing,” Eve said when it was her turn to order. “How soon can you do the one-on-one?”
“I’ll get a camera, do it right after lunch if we cut the meal a little short. I need to skip dessert anyway.”
“All right. Good. Thanks.”
“You’re always good for ratings. Speaking of which, mine are currently through the stratosphere. One of the things I wanted to discuss with you. I had the front line with the Icove story—thanks—and I’m raking in the offers. Book deals, vid deals, and the big one, for me . . . Drum roll, please,” she said while her face lit up. “. . . I’m getting my own show.”
“Your own show!” Peabody all but bounced on her seat. “Wow! Mega-wow! Congratulations, Nadine. This is beyond uptown.”
“Thanks. A full hour weekly, and I can call my own shots. I’m going to have a staff. Jesus, I can’t get over it. My own staff, my own show.” Laughing, she patted her heart. “I’m sticking with the crime beat, it’s what I know and what I’m known for. We’re calling it Now, as I’m going to deal with what’s happening up to the minute we air, every week. Dallas, I want you to be my first interview.”
“Nadine, congrats and blah-blah. Seriously. But you know I hate that crap.”
“It’ll be great, it’ll be good. You can take us into the mind of the NYPSD’s hottest cop.”
“Oh, shit.”
“How you work, how you think, the routine. The steps and stages of an investigation. We’ll talk about the Icove case—”
“Hasn’t that horse been beaten dead yet?”
“Not as long as people are interested, and they are. I’m going to start working with a writer on the book, and the vid script. I need you to meet with her.”
Eve lifted a finger, slashed it through the air. “Line drawn.”
Nadine’s smile was sly. “It’s going to get done with or without you, Dallas. You want to make sure it’s done right, don’t you?”
“Who’s playing you in the vid?” Peabody wanted to know, and attacked the orange blossom chicken on her plate the minute it was in front of her.
“Don’t know yet. We’re just getting started.”
“Am I in it?”
“Sure. The young, steady detective who hunts murderers alongside her sexy, seasoned partner.”
“I’m going to boot,” Eve muttered, and was ignored.
“This is too frosty! Entirely. Wait ’til I tell McNab.”
“Nadine, this is good for you. Another round of big congrats and all that.” Eve shook her head. “But it’s not the kind of thing I want to get tangled in. It’s not what I do, what I am.”
“Be iced if we could do some of the shoot for the show and the vid at your house. Dallas at home.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
Nadine grinned. “Figured as much. Think about some of it, anyway, will you? I’m not going to push it on you.”
Eve sampled pasta, gave Nadine a wary look. “No?”
“No. I’ll nag a little, finagle where I can, but