The In Death Collection Books 21-25 - J. D. Robb [469]
“The way things are going, I’ll spend most of today buried in paperwork and getting nowhere.”
“In that unhappy event—no, not that jacket.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Though she scowled in irritation, a part of her was so happy with his comment—the normalcy of it—she wanted to grin like an idiot.
“It’s not particularly screen-friendly.”
“Neither am I.”
“True enough. However…” He rose, wandered to her closet.
“I don’t need you to pick out my clothes.”
“Oh, darling Eve, you so absolutely do.” He pulled out a jacket in bronze tones she swore she’d never seen before, paired it with deep brown trousers, a cream-colored turtleneck.
“Be wild and crazy,” he added as he draped the pieces over the back of the sofa. “Wear some earrings. Small gold hoops, perhaps.”
When she started to snarl, he caught her face in his hands and kissed her—long, slow, and deep. “I love that mouth,” he murmured, “especially when it’s about to be sarcastic. How do you feel about bacon and eggs?”
“More enthusiastic than I feel about small gold hoops hanging from my earlobes.”
But she found a pair, dressed, pleased that he’d poked at her about her clothes.
And just as she was about to sit down with him, as the cat leaped on the arm of the sofa to eye the bacon, Roarke’s pocket ’link beeped.
She knew the minute he pulled it out to check the display. “Take it,” Eve said, even as he started to slide the ’link back in his pocket. “I guess she’s an early riser.”
“I switched her to voice mail. Let’s eat before this gets cold.”
“Take it,” Eve repeated. “Peabody’ll be here any minute anyway. I’ll see you later.”
“Damn it, Eve.”
“Later,” she said again, and kept walking.
8
“NICE THREADS,” PEABODY COMMENTED, COMing in as Eve was coming down. “Roarke, right?”
“Who else? Since obviously if left to my own devices I’d commit such fashion felonies as would frighten small children and embarrass multitudes.”
“Misdemeanors, anyway. We’re not going up to your office? Your AutoChef?”
“No.” Eve yanked on her coat as Summerset stood silently by. “Everybody’s getting a goddamn early start today. My vehicle better be where I left it,” she snapped at him. “Or I’m getting it myself, dragging you out, and running you over with it.”
“What you call a vehicle is outside, currently embarrassing the house.”
“Peabody.” Eve gestured for the door. Eve waited until Peabody went outside. “I want to know if she comes here. I want to know if she comes into this house. You got that?”
“Yes.”
She marched out into the cold, hatless, gloveless, then slid behind the wheel. “First address.”
Peabody gave it to her, then cleared her throat. “Rough night?”
“Life’s full of rough nights.”
“Look, if you want to talk about it or just spew, that’s what partners are for.”
“There’s a woman.”
“No possible way.”
It was said so quickly, and with such easy confidence, Eve would have been comforted under any other circumstances. “There’s a woman,” she repeated. “One he used to be involved with a long time ago. Seriously involved. She’s back, and she’s making moves. He doesn’t see them as moves. He doesn’t see what she is under the gloss. We’ve got a problem.”
“You’re sure—” It only took one look from Eve for Peabody to blow out a breath. “Okay, you’re sure. First I’m going to say he wouldn’t twist on you, not with anyone. But having some bitch put moves on him is a steamer. You want to go have a talk with her, put a little muscle into it. We can tune her up, put her ass on a shuttle for Siberia.”
“Sounds good.” She stopped at a light, scrubbed her hands over her face. “Can’t do it, can’t touch her, can’t beat her to death with a hammer and bury her in White Plains.”
“Bloomfield would be better than White Plains anyway.”
It got a weak laugh. “I don’t know how to do this, how hard to push him, how far to stand back. I don’t know the steps and strategy. I think I’ve already screwed up.”
“Dallas? I think you should tell him this hurts you.”
“I’ve never had to tell him something like that before. He sees stuff in me before I have to.” She shook