Festive in Death (In Death #39)(25)

“That’s nice.”

“We’ll have a dome so it can be used year-round, and those we house there can learn something of horticulture. The architect’s wondering if we should use stones or benches with the names of the girls who died there.”

Eve rose, saying nothing as she crossed to the AutoChef for coffee. The cat deserted Roarke to sprint over to her, winding slyly between her legs, ever hopeful, she knew, that food was involved.

“I think, I guess you’re asking what I think.”

“I am,” he told her.

“I think creating a garden shows respect. And I think the kids you’d shelter there, educate there, don’t need to be reminded of cruelty and death, but of life. Of the, well, garden of possibilities of life.”

“I think you’re exactly right. Thank you.”

“Anytime. I’m going to grab thirty in the gym before I get ready.”

Coffee in hand, she took the elevator down, got in a good run along a simulated shoreline with blue waves breaking.

After a blistering hot shower with the multi-jets on full, she stepped into the drying tube.

“It’s too bad the rest of the world can’t be heated up like a shower,” she commented as she headed for her closet.

“Since it can’t you’ll want to dress for it. Not as windy today, though, according to the questionably reliable forecast.”

She grabbed a sweater she knew to be warm despite being thin and soft as a tissue, straight-legged pants and a vest that would add warmth and cover her weapon harness.

After pulling on clothes, she grabbed a pair of boots.

“Not those boots,” Roarke said with barely a glance when she came out to sit and pull them on.

“What’s wrong with these boots?”

“Not a thing, but the gray with the mock laces will pick up the color of that sweater, polish things off.”

“I don’t need to polish . . . Fine, fine, fine.” Easier, she figured, to change the damn boots than get into a fashion debate she’d certainly lose.

Plus she wanted to see what was under the silver domes on the table. If she changed the boots, maybe it wouldn’t be oatmeal.

He poured her coffee as she sat down again. “Good morning, Lieutenant.”

“We’ll see about that.” She lifted the dome. “Oh hell yeah, it’s a good morning.”

“I thought, considering yesterday, you’d earned pancakes.”

She immediately drowned them in syrup.

“They’re all apple and cinnamonny.”

“And deserve better than being a vehicle for syrup, but ah well.”

In any case, he loved watching her appreciation of food, especially since she so often forgot to eat it.

“I might need a bribe for Dickhead,” she said between bites. “Considering he’s had twenty-four hours, my wrath should be enough, but just in case.”

“Take him a bottle of unblended scotch,” Roarke suggested. “We’ve several already in gift bags. It’ll throw him off-balance straightaway if you offer him a holiday token.”

“It would, wouldn’t it? I really hate to go bearing gifts and all, but any lack of cooperation after that would make him an even bigger Dickhead than he is. It’s kind of win-win for me.”

“It’s the old catching more flies with sugar than vinegar.”

“Why would anyone want to catch flies? What you want is to make them go the hell away.”

“That’s a point, and now another classic adage bites the dust.” He patted her leg. “Breakfast with you is a continuing education.”

“I do what I can. If it turns out the vic’s blend of tea included a date-rape drug, I can use that to pry open more of his clients. Outrage tends to turn off filters.”

“You’ve never mentioned next of kin.”

“Only child, parents divorced when he was ten. Both remarried. He bounced between the mother in Tucson and the father in Atlanta until he was of age. Neither of them have seen him for more than six years. They were both shaken, but I didn’t get any sense of close family ties.”

“So no friends or family.”

“Not really. And from what I can tell, by his own choice. Friends and family take work.”

She thought of her forty-minute battle for sanity with Tiko and the bag people. Fucking A, it took work.

“All his work was focused on himself,” she added. “Speaking of family, I guess you got all the gifts off to Ireland.”

“I did, yes. You did some work there.”

“I didn’t shop.”

“You helped me decide on several things, and the Cops and Robbers comp game for young Sean was your idea.”

“He was an easy one. Peabody and McNab are doing an in-and-out shuttle for Christmas to her family. You don’t want to do something like that, do you?”

“We had Thanksgiving, and that worked well for me, having them all here. I like having our Christmas, you and I.”

“I do, too. And since I’d really like to get this case closed before that, I’d better get going. Good pancakes,” she said, leaned over and kissed him.

“I’ll see you tonight. We might talk about strategy for the deal you’ve made with Summerset.”