Ceremony in Death (In Death #5)(86)

“Who gave you the reading?”

“Isis. She didn’t look too keen when she came in.” Mavis tipped back her glass. “We were playing it up, you know. I went with the wide-eyed giggle act. Oohed and aahed a lot over the stock.”

Eve shifted her gaze to the shopping bags. “I see you carried the act through.”

“I liked the stuff.” Mavis grinned, unrepentant. “Then AQ, you know, Amazon Queen, she started to get into it. I had my sights on this A-one crystal ball, a green one. What did she call it, Trina?”

“Tourma-something.”

“Tourmaline,” Roarke provided.

“Yeah, right. Tourmaline. She steered me away, said it was for relaxing, for soothing, and if I wanted energy, I should go for the orange one. For, like, vitality.”

“More expensive?” Eve assumed.

“No, cheaper. Way cheaper. She said how the green one wasn’t for me. She thought I had a friend who could use it, someone close to me who carried too much stress. But she should choose it for herself, when she was ready.”

Eve grunted, frowned.

“Then she gave us a reading. Mega. She said how she was glad we’d come in. She’d needed the positive energy. She wouldn’t charge us for the readings. I liked her, Dallas. She hasn’t got the eyes of a grifter.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll check out the package.” One way to make money, Eve mused, was to round up repeat customers. And a sure way to insure repeaters was to addict them.

“We got to make it.” Mavis was up again, gathering her bags. “I bought this candle for romance. I want to see if it works. See you Tuesday night.”

“Tuesday?”

Mavis tapped her platform sneaker. “Our Halloween party, Dallas. You said you’d come.”

“I must have been drunk.”

“No, you weren’t. Nine o’clock, our place. Everybody’s coming. I even tagged Feeney. See you.”

“Loosen up,” Trina advised as she strolled out. “Wear a costume.”

“Not in this lifetime,” Eve muttered. “Well.” She bounced the small bag of leaves and seeds in her hand. “That was probably a monumental waste of time.”

“They enjoyed themselves. And you’ll feel better once you analyze that mix.”

“I suppose. I’m not getting anywhere.” Eve set the bag on the table. “I keep taking wrong turns. I can feel it.”

“Enough wrong turns, and you usually end up in the right place after all.” He leaned forward, set his hands on her shoulders, and began to rub. “Mavis has a close friend who carries around too much stress.” He worked on the knots. “I wonder who that could be?”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled, kissed the nape of her neck. “You smell wonderful.”

“It’s that goop Trina poured all over me.”

“She mentioned it. She said I’d enjoy it.” He sniffed her neck again, made her chuckle. “And I am. She also said she managed to hold you down for a full body treatment. I’m to pay particular attention to your butt.”

“She certainly did. She tried to talk me into a temp tattoo of a rosebud on my right cheek.” She started to sigh, then bolted up, grabbing her ass. “Jesus Christ, she had me on the table for ten minutes. You don’t think she snuck one on.”

Roarke lifted a brow, then smiled slowly as he rose. “I’ll have to make it my job to find out.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

She had a rosebud on her ass., and wasn’t happy about it. Standing naked in the bathroom, Eve adjusted the trifold mirror until she could get a good look.

“I think I could bust her for this,” she muttered.

“Decorating a cop’s posterior without a license?” Roarke suggested as he strolled in. “Felonious reproduction of floral imagery?”

“You’re getting a big charge out of this, aren’t you?” Miffed, Eve snagged a robe off the hook.

“Darling Eve, I thought I made it perfectly clear last night I was on your side of the issue. Didn’t I do my best to chew it off?”

She would not laugh, she ordered herself as she bit down hard on her tongue. There was nothing funny about it. “I’ve got to get some solution or something. Whatever they make to get it off.”

“What’s your hurry? It’s rather… sweet.”

“What if I have to go in for a disinfect? Or need to shower or change at the station? Do you know what kind of grief a butt tattoo’s going to get me?”

He slid his arms around her, clever enough to get them under rather than over the robe. “You’re not working today.”

“I’m going in. I’ve got to check my unit, see if Feeney shot back some data.”

“And it won’t make any difference if you do it Monday morning. We’ve got the day off.”

“To do what?”

He merely smiled, slid his hands lower to stroke her rosebud.

“Didn’t we just do that?”

“It bears repeating,” he mused, “but it could wait a bit. Why don’t we spend the day lazing around the pool?”

Lazing around the pool? It had a certain appeal. “Well, maybe…”

“In Martinique. Don’t bother to pack,” he told her, planting a quick kiss on her mouth. “You won’t need anything but what you’re wearing.”