It was a thought that didn't sit well in her gut.
A movement in the adjoining doorway caught the corner of her eye an instant before Roarke stepped into full view.
"Good morning. You're up and about early."
"I want to get my prelim report to Whitney first thing." She took her coffee from the AutoChef, shook back her hair. "You want a cup of this?"
"Yes, I do." He took hers, smiling when she frowned at him. "I'll be in meetings most of the day."
"What else is new," she muttered and programmed the unit for a second cup of coffee.
"But you can reach me, if you need."
She grunted, then glanced over as her computer signaled data search was complete. "Good. Okay, I've got – " She yelped in surprise as he grabbed the front of her shirt and tugged. "Hey, what – Hold data," she called out and shoved at her husband.
"I like the way you smell in the morning." He leaned in and sniffed at her hair as he spoke.
"It's just soap."
"I know."
"Get ahold of yourself." But damn it, he had her blood up and pumping fast. "I've got work," she muttered even as her arms came around him.
"So do I. I miss you, Eve." He set his cup aside so he could hold her, just hold her.
"I guess we've both been busy the last couple of weeks." It felt so good to lean against him and just be. "I can't back off this case now."
"I don't expect you to." For the pleasure of it, he rubbed his cheek against hers. "I wouldn't want you to." But it was the last case, what it had done to her, that weighed on his mind and his heart. "I'm content to steal a moment here and there." He eased back, brushed his lips over hers. "I've always had a good hand at stealing… whatever."
"You're not supposed to remind me." And, smiling, she framed his face with her hands.
From the doorway, Peabody watched them. It was too late to step back, too soon to step forward. Though they were only standing, his hands on Eve's shoulders, hers on his cheeks, Peabody found it a wrenchingly intimate moment that had her face heating and her heart sighing with envy.
At a loss, she did the only thing she could think of and worked up the fake, faintly embarrassed cough of the intruder.
Roarke ran his hands down Eve's arms, and smiled toward the doorway. "Good morning, Peabody. Coffee?"
"Um, yeah. Thanks. Uh… it's pretty cold out."
"Really?" Roarke said as Eve moved back toward her desk.
"Yeah, it's not supposed to get up to freezing. We might get some snow flurries this afternoon."
"What are you, the National Weather Service?" Eve demanded, then took a good look at her aide. Peabody 's face was flushed, her eyes soft, her hands busily plucking at her brass buttons. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. Thanks," she said when Roarke brought her a cup of coffee.
"You're welcome. I'll leave you to work."
When he walked through the adjoining doorway and closed it off, Peabody sighed. "I don't know how you can remember your name when he looks at you the way he does."
"If I forget it, he reminds me."
Though she heard the wry humor in Eve's voice, Peabody stepped closer. "What's it like?"
"What?" Glancing up, Eve caught the intensity in her aide's eyes and shrugged uncomfortably. " Peabody, we've got work here."
"Isn't that what it's about?" Peabody interrupted. "Isn't what you've got what those two women were looking for?"
Eve opened her mouth, then shut it again. She glanced toward the connecting doors, saw that Roarke had closed them, but hadn't engaged locks on either side. "It's more than you think it can be," she heard herself say. "It changes everything, and fixes everything that matters. Maybe you're never going to be the same, and maybe part of you is always afraid of what will happen if… but he's always going to be there. All you have to do is reach out, and he's going to be there."
Surprised at herself, she slipped her hands into her pockets. "Can you find that by pumping data into a computer system and letting it run personality and lifestyle matches? I don't know. But we've got two dead women who thought it was worth a try. Pull up a chair, Peabody, and we'll see what we've got."
"Yes, sir."
"We'll run a full search of Jeremy Vandoren. Instincts aside, we need to confirm or eliminate. Once we have full data on all five matches on the Hawley list, we'll pay another visit to Personally Yours."
"Detective McNab, reporting for duty."
Eve looked over and saw Ian McNab swagger into the room. He had a big, satisfied grin on his pretty face, a knee-length vest in eye-searing fuchsia over his Christmas-green jumpsuit, and a striped ribbon of both colors binding back his long sweep of glinting gold hair.
Feeling Peabody stiffen like a flagpole beside her, Eve nearly sighed.
"How's it going, McNab?"
"It's going good, Lieutenant. Hey there, Peabody." He winked cockily then set a hip on the desk. "Captain Feeney said you could use me on this Santa case. I'm here to serve. Got anything to eat?"
"See what's in the AutoChef."
"Mag. Working for you, Dallas, has rocking benefits." He wiggled his brows suggestively at Peabody then walked over to forage breakfast.
"If you were going to use that pinhead," Peabody muttered under her breath, "why can't he work out of EDD?"
"Because I wanted to irritate you, Peabody. It's my main goal in life. Since you're here, McNab," Eve continued, "you can take over these searches. Peabody and I need to go out in the field."
"Just line them up," he said, taking a huge" bite of a blueberry Danish. "I'll knock them back."
"When you've finished stuffing your face," Eve said mildly, "run the names in the Hawley file – all data."
"Took care of the ex last night," he said with his mouth full. "Can't find any break in his alibi so far."
"Okay." She appreciated the fast return, but decided not to mention it and have Peabody pouting all day. "I'll be sending you another list from the field – run those names, then do a cross-check between the lists. Take a good look at the Hoffman twins, Rudy and Piper. I want anything that pops. And run this."
She turned back to her computer, called up the evidence file, and shot out a hologram of the second brooch. "I want to know who made this piece, how many were manufactured, where they were sold, how many were sold, and to whom. Cross-check that with the first pin found on Hawley's body. You getting this, McNab?"
"Sir." He swallowed hastily, then tapped a finger to his temple. "Every bit."
"You get me a name that matches both lists and the bauble, and I'll see to it you've got fresh Danishes every morning for the rest of your life."
"That's a hell of an incentive." He wiggled his fingers. "Let me at it."
"Let's ride, Peabody." Eve rose, grabbed her bag. "Don't bother Roarke, McNab," she warned and headed out.
"Looking good, She-body," McNab called just as Peabody hit the doorway. She snarled, hissed, stomped out, and left him feeling gratified.
"EDD's full of detectives with class, you know," Peabody complained as they trooped downstairs. "How come we're stuck with the one asshole in the division?"
"Just lucky, I guess." Eve snagged her jacket off the newel post, and swung it on as they walked outside. "Christ, it's fucking freezing out here."
"You really ought to have a warmer coat, Lieutenant."
"I'm used to this one." But she slid into the car quickly. "Heat, for God's sake," she ordered. "Seventy-five degrees."
"I love this unit." Peabody snuggled into the seat. "Everything works."
"Yeah. But it lacks character." Still Eve glanced down with pleasure as her 'link signaled an incoming. "Catch this," she told Peabody. "Screen incoming," she ordered as she drove through the gates.
"Dallas? Dallas? Damn it." The attractive and irritated face of ace screen reporter Nadine Furst came on screen. "I just missed you at home. Summerset said you're on route somewhere. Answer the damn 'link, will you?"