“I’ve got something cooking, so make it fast,” he told her.
“Oh, I’ll make it fast. You’re not the only one who’s got something cooking. If you hadn’t snuck out of the apartment this morning, we could’ve dealt with some of this before shift.”
“I didn’t sneak.” He took a long drink, eyeing her over the neon tube. “Not my fault you sleep like a corpse. Plus, I didn’t feel like slamming up against your attitude first thing in the morning.”
“My attitude?” Her voice came out in a squeak that would have mortified her if she’d noticed it. “You’re the one who said I was selfish. You’re the one who said I didn’t care.”
“I know what I said. So if this is just a replay—”
Peabody planted her feet. For once she was happy to know she outweighed him. “You make a move to that door before I’m done, I’ll flatten your bony ass.”
Now temper flashed in his eyes. “Say what you’ve got to say, then. Odds are it’ll be more than you’ve had to say to me for the past week.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“You’ve always got something to do.” He slammed down his drink, and true to its name, lime-colored liquid fizzed over the lip. “Always got something going. Every time I try to talk to you, it’s ‘We’ll get into it later.’ You’re going to dump a guy, you could have the decency to wait until after the holidays. Wouldn’t fucking kill you.”
“What? What? Dump you? Have you lost what little brainpower you had?”
“You’ve been avoiding me. Coming in late, heading out early, every damn day.”
“I’ve been Christmas shopping, you moron.” She threw her hands in the air as her voice pitched toward a shout. “I’ve been going to the gym. And I’ve been up at Mavis and Leonardo’s because… I can’t tell you why. And if I’ve been avoiding you, it’s because all you want to talk about is going to Scotland.”
“We’ve only got a couple of days left to—”
“I know, I know.” She slapped her hands to her head and squeezed.
“I’ve got a line on some side work I can do, help pay for it. I just want to… You weren’t going to dump me?”
“No, but I should. I should dump you right on your pointy head and save myself all this aggravation.” She dropped her hands, sighed. “Maybe I was avoiding you because I didn’t want to talk about going to Scotland.”
“You always said you wanted to go one day.”
“I know what I said, but that’s when I didn’t think we’d ever go. Now you’re pinning me to it, and I’m nervous. No, not nervous. Terrified.”
“Of what?”
“Of meeting your family—all at once. Of being the one you bring home for Christmas, for God’s sake.”
“Jesus, Peabody, who the hell do you want me to bring home for Christmas?”
“Me, you idiot. But when you bring somebody home for Christmas, it’s a big. It’s a real big. They’re all going to be looking at me and asking me questions, and I can’t lose a stupid goddamn five pounds, because I’m nervous, so I eat. And I figured if we could just stay home I wouldn’t have to worry about it until whenever.”
He just stared at her in the baffled way men had stared at women across the ages. “You took me home for Thanksgiving.”
“That’s different. It is ,” she said before he could object. “You’d already met my parents, and we’re Free-Agers. We feed anybody and everybody on Thanksgiving. I feel fat and clunky, and they’re going to hate me.”
“Dee.” He only called her Dee when he was particularly tender, or especially exasperated. This, from his tone, seemed to be some of both. “It is a real big to take someone home for Christmas. You’re the first I have.”
“Oh, God. That just makes it worse. Or better. I don’t know which.” She swallowed, pressed a hand to her belly. “I think I feel sick.”
“They’re not going to hate you. They’re going to love you because I do. I love you, She-Body.” He gave her the smile, the one that made her think of little puppy dogs. “Please come home with me. I’ve been waiting a long time to show you off.”
“Oh, wow. Oh, boy.” Sentimental tears sprang to her eyes as she jumped him. His hands clamped on her ass.
“I’ve got to lock the door,” he muttered as he bit cheerfully at her ear.
“Everybody’ll know what we’re doing.”
“I love being the object of envy. Mmm, I missed you. Let me just—”
“Wait, wait!” She shoved back, dug into her pocket. “I forgot. God. It’s our present from Dallas and Roarke.”
“I’d rather have one from you right now.”
“Look. You’ve got to look. They’re giving us the trip,” she said as she opened the box, showed him the cards inside. “Private shuttle, ground transpo. The works.”
Since his hands dropped off her ass, she figured he was as stunned as she’d been. “Holy shit.”
“All we have to do is pack,” she said with a watery smile. “You don’t have to take the side job, unless you want it. I’m sorry I was such a freak about this. I love you, too.”
She threw her arms around him, locked lips. Then eased back with a wicked wiggle of eyebrows. “I’ll lock the door.”
* * *
Minutes after Eve stepped into her office to coordinate her next move, Peabody rushed in.
“I’ve got the initial sweeper’s report on the room the Lombards vacated—nothing,” Peabody said hurriedly. “Canvassing cops found the bar—one block east, two south of the hotel. Door was unlocked. Zana’s purse was inside on the floor. I have a team heading there now.”
“You’ve been busy,” Eve said. “How did you manage to fit in sex?”
“Sex? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I bet you want coffee.” She darted to the AutoChef, then whirled back. “How do you know I had sex? Do you have sex radar?”
“Your shirt’s not buttoned right, and you’ve got a fresh hickey on your neck.”
“Damn it.” Peabody slapped a hand to the side of her neck. “How bad is it? Why don’t you have a mirror in here?”
“Because, let’s see, could it be because it’s an office? You’re a disgrace. Go do something about yourself before the commander—” Her interoffice ‘link beeped. “Too late. Step back. Step the hell back so you’re not on-screen. Christ.”
Her head might have dropped in shame as she eased out of range, but a smile tugged at Peabody’s mouth. “We made up.”
“Can it. Dallas.”
“Commander Whitney would like to see you in his office, immediately.”
“On my way.” She clicked off. “Give me the salient, make it fast.”
“I’ll come. I just need to—”
“Give me the salient, Detective. Then write your report.”
“Sir. The sweepers found no evidence in the rooms vacated by Bobby and Zana to tie them to the murder under investigation. Zana Lombard’s handbag was located by canvassing officers inside a bar called Hidey Hole on Ninth between Thirty-nine and Forty. The officers entered the premises when it was noted that the security was off, and the lock disengaged. The officers sealed the building, and sweepers are responding.”
“Name of the owner of the bar, the owner of the building.”
“I intended to obtain that information after bringing you up to date.”
“Do it now. Run the names. I want the data and your written report within thirty.”
Eve let the steam of temper carry her out of her office, through the bull pen, into the elevator, where for once she didn’t have to use her elbows to maintain a little personal space.
Good thing, she decided. She might’ve broken some asshole’s ribs.
Then she shut it down, turned it off. She would show Whitney nothing but control and professionalism. She’d use them, and whatever else she needed, to keep the case.
He was waiting, sitting back in his chair behind his desk. His wide, dark face showed no more than hers what was inside his head. His hair was salt and pepper, with the salt liberally dashed. There were lines carved in his face, around the eyes, around the mouth, etched there by time and, she was sure, the burden of command.
“Lieutenant, you’ve named yourself as primary in a homicide investigation that is now in its second day, and this office has not been so informed by you.”