Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)(27)

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, like, wait until you see what I bought. I’ll model it for you, so you can tell me if it suits. Or, candlelight and wine? Lots of stuff like that, mostly from the suspect’s ’link to the vic’s. The vic had texts from her mother, her brother, her sister-in-law, and e-mails from same. Otherwise it was mostly business stuff, art stuff.”

Eve breathed clear again when they made it to the garage level.

“She’d shoot photos of her work to the Village Scene, and they’d tell her what to bring in, when. That’s a gallery-type place that sells arts and crafts made by people who live or work in the Village. And she had the same deal going with Poets and Painters—where she also worked a couple days a week.”

“Okay.”

They piled into Eve’s ride, Roarke at the wheel.

“You get a sense of somebody when you read their communication, go through the pictures on their comp or ’link, go over their search history and all. She seemed like a nice person, you know? Tight with her family and all.”

Eve pulled out her PPC and began to gather data on Dr. Oliver Huffman.

She’d barely gotten past the basics when Roarke drove through an open gate. A single gate, she noted, wide enough for a good-size truck, with a short drive leading to a big white brick house with a long, wide front porch.

Mavis stood on the porch. Her hair, cotton candy pink, fountained out of a topknot. She wore over-the-knee clear boots.

What, Eve wondered, was the point in see-through boots?

She paired them with a fluttery dress covered with some sort of pink posies.

When she bounced, clapped her hands, Leonardo—towering, copper skin, copper hair in long dreads—came out the black front door with Bella on his hip.

The kid squealed, then threw back her head so her blond ringlets danced, and laughed like a lunatic.

When Mavis bounded down the trio of steps, Eve noticed the boots had heels that looked as if someone had glued a clump of colorful marbles together.

“You made it! Peabody texted maybe not, then McNab texted maybe so. And you made it.”

She yanked open Eve’s door before Eve could do it herself, and tugged Eve’s hand. “Come see, come see before I bust!”

“See what?”

“The house.”

“I see the house. What is the house?”

“Ours!” Arms outstretched, Mavis spun in circles. “It’s all so mag. It’s all so whoa! We bought a house.”

“You bought a house.” A really big white brick house, with a porch, and what looked like an overgrown yard. Since it all struck as dramatically un-Mavis, Eve searched for something to say.

She tried, “Wow.”

“It’s wow to the ult! I know it needs work and love, and holy sh—shoes,” she corrected. “Some freaking color and style. But it’s just what we wanted, right, moonpie?”

Leonardo beamed at her, at the house, at the overgrown yard. “It really is.”

Since Bella all but launched herself out of her father’s arms, Eve had no choice but to catch her.

“Das! Das!” She gripped Eve’s chin with one hand, pointed at the house with the other. “Mine!”

“Yeah, so I hear. I didn’t know you were looking for a house.”

“We’ve been talking about it since …” Mavis patted her belly. “Knocked up, the return. We wanted something with some yard, and big enough to grow. And something we could make ours. It’s like a blank slate, and we can draw whatever we want on it. Roarke found it for us.”

“Oh, really?” Eve turned toward him.

“Don’t be mad. I made him swear not to tell.” Mavis slid an arm around Roarke’s waist. “I really wanted you to see whatever we picked once we’d picked.”

“It could be a really great yard,” Peabody said.

“I’m counting on you to help make that happen. Flowers, Peabody, and trees and bushes and room for kids to run. Oh, oh, there it goes.”

Tears welled. Tears fell.

“Hormones, they’re killing me. We gotta go in. The main part has five bedrooms—one can be Leonardo’s office, if he wants. And there’s a big-ass attic where he can have his workshop. There’s even a basement level I can use for recording, even though I do that mostly at Jake’s studio now.”

The minute they hit the porch, Bella wiggled down to race inside. “Mine!”

Her little high-top sneaks sent out echoes and bounced with lights as she danced in the foyer.

Dingy beige walls showed off lighter squares, rectangles, ovals where art had hung, and the wood floor showed considerable wear and tear. But roomy, Eve figured, with its high ceilings and wide staircase.

Obviously thrilled, Bella grabbed Peabody’s hand to tug her along, jabbering all the while.

The living area focused on what looked to Eve like an ancient brick fireplace. Light poured in the trio of windows overlooking the dilapidated front yard.

Eve noted the dinge, the scars, while Peabody rhapsodized over the natural light, the wide-planked oak floors.

Hanging back a bit, Eve looked at Roarke. “You pointed them at this place?”

“She has good, solid bones, a fine history, and is exactly what they wanted.”

“They wanted old and decrepit?”