Concealed in Death (In Death #38)(69)

“I understand.” The tangle made Roarke smile again. “Perfectly.”

“I mean, it could all go away, because I have my girls. It hurts when she hurts.”

“Yes. I understand perfectly,” Roarke repeated.

• • •

I know this is hard on you,” Eve began as they walked to her office.

“I need to say—before—I need to say maybe I’d have been one of those girls if it wasn’t for Sebastian. Or maybe I’d have ended up trading bjs for junk, like Shelby. She bragged about it. And maybe if I’d gotten through all that, maybe I’d still be grifting and getting nowhere especially if I hadn’t met you, if you hadn’t let me in.”

“Couldn’t keep you out.”

“Yeah, you could’ve, but you didn’t. And I’d never know this.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “I’d never know what it really is without Leonardo. I’d never have something so amazing and beyond the mag of the mag like Bella, and have a chance, a real chance, to be a really, really good mother. I want to be a good mother, Dallas, so bad it scares me shitless thinking I might screw up.”

“We both know about mothers who screw up, big-time. You’re not one of those, and never could be. I don’t know much about the other kind, not so much, but I know the kid’s insanely happy. I don’t know what the hell she’s babbling about more than half the time, but she’s happy as a monkey with a box of bananas. She’s safe, she’s not a whiner, and she already knows she can count on you and Leonardo for anything. That seems like it covers the job to me.”

“I want another one.”

“Oh sweet weeping Jesus.”

On a bubbling laugh, Mavis threw her arms around Eve, did her bounce. “Not right away, but not way down the highway either. I want another baby, for me, for my moonpie, and for my Bellamina. I am good at it, and maybe having the weird wigs about being good at it makes me good at it. Whatev, I want a bunch of them.”

“Define ‘bunch.’”

“I don’t know yet. More.” She drew back, swiped her hands over her face as the mix of emotions had flooded it. Looking at the board, she sighed. “I’m so lucky, and they weren’t. We got really lucky,” she said, taking Eve’s hand.

“Yeah, we did.”

“I’m going to look at the pictures, then I want to go home with my man and my baby. I want to put my baby to bed and watch her sleep for a little while. Then I want to have crazy sex with my man. Because I got lucky, and I’m never going to forget it.”

“They got pretty lucky, too, your man and your kid.”

“Damn right. We’re all stupid with happy.”

“Can’t argue. But before you go home to bedtime and sex, I need you to contact Sebastian, set up a meet.”

“Crap.”

“Sooner’s better,” Eve added.

• • •

Roarke came into Eve’s office after seeing Mavis and her family off, found her at her desk with a mug of coffee. And noted the two new pictures on the board, one with a question mark.

“I had to stick with this,” she said. “Mavis wanted to go home anyway, to put the kid to bed, then jump Leonardo.”

“I see. She said she recognized two more.”

“One for certain, one mostly for certain. I sent DeWinter and Elsie the data so they can confirm. The one she’s sure of—Crystal Hugh—she did some time at The Sanctuary. Got shifted to foster, went missing from there. Too many lines lead back to that building, that place, those people for it to be just because.”

“I’ll agree.”

“And now I’ve got four, possibly five, connected to this Sebastian character Mavis is rosy-eyed over.”

“He’s her father figure, Eve. She was a frightened, scared young girl, and he gave her structure, safety, a purpose.”

“Structure? Flopping in basements and empty buildings? And the purpose was stealing and bilking.”

“And yet.”

“Yeah, you’d think that,” she replied. “Seeing as.”

“Summerset provided me with a very nice home, furnished. I already knew how to steal and run a con, he just added some polish.” He picked up her coffee, took a sip. “I wondered why I felt a kind of affinity with Mavis, always. I see now we traveled some similar roads. How old was she when she ran?”

“Around thirteen, I think.” She stopped, met his eyes. “I wasn’t holding out on you, not telling you all that. It’s just . . .”

“It wasn’t yours to tell, not even to me. Just as she’s never told Leonardo yours.”

“I told her she could.” Eve shoved her fingers through her hair as the idea made her uneasy, even though it seemed right. “You know, balance it out.”

He leaned over, pressed his lips to the hair she’d just mussed. “I adore you.”

“Yeah, well, good. You’re going to have to because you’re going with me to meet up with this Sebastian.” She glanced at her watch. “In two hours, at some seedy dive in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“You plan such entertaining evenings for me. Two hours? That’s time enough for dinner. We’ll make it pizza.”