Ceremony in Death (In Death #5)(40)

“It’s been known to happen.” Roarke watched the boy prowl, toy with controls on the compu-range, the subzero refrigerator. “It’s not going to happen this morning.” He walked to a large AutoChef. “What is it then, pizza or burger?”

Jamie grinned. “Both? I could probably drink a gallon of Pepsi.”

“We’ll start with a tube.” Roarke programmed the AutoChef, then went to the refrigerator himself. “Sit down, Jamie.”

“Frigid.” But he kept his eye on Roarke as he slid onto the padded bench of a breakfast nook.

After a short debate, Roarke punched in for two tubes, slipped them out of the door slot when they slid down. “You’ll want to contact your mother,” he said. “You can use the ‘link there.”

“No.” Jamie put his hands under the table, rubbed them on his jeans. “She’s zoned. She can’t handle it. Alice. She’s tranqued out. We — the viewing’s tonight.”

“I see.” And because he did, Roarke let it drop. He handed the drink to Jamie, then took a large bubbling pizza from the AutoChef. He set it, then the burger that followed, on the table.

“Rocking A.” With the appetite of the young, Jamie grabbed the burger and bit in. “Man! Man, it’s meat,” he said with his mouth full. “It’s meat.”

It took a master not to let his mouth twitch. “You’d prefer soy?” Roarke asked politely. “Veggie?”

“No way.” Jamie wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinned. “Really decent. Thanks.”

Roarke got two plates and a slicer. He went to work on the pizza. “I suppose breaking and entering stimulates the appetite.”

“I’m always hungry.” Without shame, Jamie transferred the first slice to his plate. “Mom says it’s growing pains, but I just like to eat. She’s real worried about junk intake, so I’ve got to sneak real food in. You know how moms are.”

“No, actually, I don’t. I’ll take your word.” And because he’d never been quite as young as Jamie. or quite as innocent, he took a slice for himself and prepared to enjoy watching the boy devour the rest.

“Parents are okay.” Jamie shrugged, alternating between the pizza and the burger. “I don’t see my father — not in a few years. He’s got a life over in Europe, the Morningside Community outside London.”

“Structured, programmed residential,” Roarke put in. “Very tidy.”

“Yeah, and very boring. Even the grass is programmed. He digs on it, though, him and his foxy new wife — his third already.” He jerked a shoulder, sucked on the Pepsi. “He isn’t much on the father game. It bothered Alice a lot. Me, I can take it or leave it.”

No, Roarke thought, he didn’t think so. Wounds were there. Odd what deep and permanent injury a parent could cause a child. “Your mother hasn’t married again?”

“Nah. She’s not into it. She was bummed pretty bad when he took off. I was six. I’m sixteen now, and she still thinks I’m a kid. I had to nag for weeks to get her to let me go for my vehicle license. She’s okay really. She’s just…” He trailed off, stared down at his plate as if he wondered how food had gotten there. “She doesn’t deserve this. She does the best she can. She doesn’t deserve this. She loved Grandpa. They were really tight. And now Alice. Alice was really weird, but she…”

“She was your sister,” Roarke said quietly. “You loved her.”

“It shouldn’t have happened to her.” He lifted his gaze slowly, met Roarke’s with a kind of terrifying fury. “When I find them, the one who hurt her, I’m going to kill them.”

“You want to be careful what you say, Jamie.” Eve stepped in. Her eyes were shadowed, her face pale with fatigue. Though she’d been careful, there were a few smears of blood on her jeans. “And you want to put away any thoughts of revenge and leave investigation to the cops.”

“They killed my sister.”

“It hasn’t been determined that your sister was a victim of homicide.” Eve headed to the AutoChef, programmed coffee. “And you’re in enough trouble,” she added before he could speak, “without hassling me.”

“Be smart,” Roarke said when Jamie opened his mouth again. “Be quiet.”

Peabody stood in the humming silence. She studied the boy, felt a little tug. She had a brother his age. With this in mind, she slapped on a smile. “Pizza for breakfast,” she said with determined cheer. “Got more?”

“Help yourself,” Roarke invited and patted the bench beside him in invitation. “Jamie, this is Officer Peabody.”

“My grandfather knew you.” Jamie studied her with cautious, appraising eyes.

“Did he?” Peabody picked up a slice. “I don’t think I ever met him. I knew about him, though. Everybody at Central was sorry when he died.”

“He knew about you. He told me Dallas was molding you.”

“Peabody’s a cop,” Eve broke in, “not a lump of clay.” Annoyed, she picked up the last slice of pizza, bit in. “This is cold.”

“It’s great cold.” Peabody winked at Jamie. “Nothing better than cold pizza for breakfast.”