The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [183]
“You don’t like them.”
“They give me the creeps. I know they’re fucking each other. Sick.”
“You don’t approve?”
“They’re brother and sister. Twins.”
“Oh, I see.” However worldly he was, Roarke found himself mirroring his wife’s reaction. “That’s very . . . unattractive.”
“Yeah.” The thought of it ruined her appetite and had her pushing the plate of flaky croissants aside. “He’s running the show, and her. Right now, he’s top of my list. He has access to every client file, and if I can confirm the incest, we add a bent toward deviant sexual behavior. I need someone inside.” She drew a deep breath as she heard bootsteps marching down the hallway. “And there she is now.”
Both Eve and Roarke turned as Peabody stepped into the doorway. She looked from one to the other, rolled her shoulders as if shrugging off something vaguely uncomfortable. “Something wrong?”
“No, come in.” Eve jerked a thumb toward a chair. “Let’s get started.”
“Coffee?” Roarke offered. He’d already figured out what Eve had in mind for her aide.
“Yeah, thanks. McNab isn’t here yet?”
“No. I’ll brief you first.” Eve shot Roarke a look, waited.
“I’ll just get out of your way.” He passed Peabody a cup, turned and kiss his wife despite—or perhaps because of—the fact that she scowled at him, then walked into his adjoining office and shut the door.
“Does he always look like that in the morning?” Peabody wanted to know.
“He always looks like that period.”
Peabody sighed deeply. “Are you sure he’s human?”
“Not always.” Eve angled a hip on the corner of her desk and studied Peabody carefully. “So. . . want to meet some guys?”
“Huh?”
“Want to broaden your social circle, meet some men who share similar interests?”
Certain Eve was joking, Peabody grinned. “Isn’t that why I became a cop?”
“Cops make lousy life partners. What you need, Peabody, is a service like Personally Yours.”
Sipping coffee, Peabody shook her head. “Nope. I did a dating service a few years back, right after I moved into the city. Too regimented. I like picking up strange men in bars.” When Eve only continued to stare at her, Peabody slowly lowered her cup. “Oh,” she said as realization struck. “Oh.”
“I’d have to clear it with Whitney. I can’t put a uniform undercover without the commander’s okay. And before you agree, I want you to know just what you’d be getting into.”
“Undercover.” Despite the fact that she had been a cop long enough to know better, the phrase conjured up images of excitement and glamour.
“Get the stars out of your eyes, Peabody. Christ.” Eve straightened, scooped both hands through her hair. “I’m talking about putting your ass on the line here, using you as bait, and you’re grinning like I’ve just given you a present.”
“You think I’m good enough for it. You trust me to handle it. That’s a pretty good present.”
“I think you’re good enough,” Eve said, dropping her arms. “I think you can handle it because you know how to follow orders, exactly. And that’s what I’d expect. Following orders to the letter. No grandstanding. If I get it cleared, and if I can get the fucking budget to stretch enough for the consultant fee for that place, you’ll go in.”
“What about Rudy and Piper? They’re not off the suspect list, and they’ve seen me.”
“They saw a uniform. People like that don’t pay attention to who’s wearing it. We’ll get Mavis and Trina to deck you out.”
“Cool.”
“Get a grip, Peabody. We’ll work out a cover, an identity. I’ve gone over the victims’ videos and personal data. We’ll cull out the similarities and work them into your profile. The idea is to tailor make you.”
“That’s bullshit.”
McNab stood in the doorway. His face was flushed with a fury that had his eyes glittering, his mouth tight, and his hands fisted at his side. “That’s fucking bullshit.”
“Detective,