Festive in Death (In Death #39)(64)

She squeezed her eyes tight for a moment, balled her fists until the knuckles whitened. “But it did. It did happen again, and I feel just like that sixteen-year-old girl. Maybe even worse, because I really believed it couldn’t happen again.”

She loosened her hands, took a couple slow, deep breaths. “I didn’t kill him, that’s the best I can give you. I wouldn’t have if I’d known before someone else did. But I wouldn’t have made the same mistake I did at sixteen. I’d have gone straight to the cops. And if some people wanted to think I’d asked for it, f**k them. Fuck them.”

On a half laugh she scrubbed her hands over her face. “Yeah, rough night. But I’ve got an appointment with my therapist in a couple hours.”

“Good. You meant nothing to him.”

“What?”

“Understand that,” Eve said. “You meant nothing. You were just another notch to him, another body, another way for him to feel important and powerful. You didn’t ask for it, you didn’t open the door to it. You were just another opportunity for him, another income source, and that’s it.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Up to you, but it’s truth. It’s fact.”

Kira breathed out again. “It’s harsh, and maybe because it’s harsh, it makes me feel better.”

“I appreciate the time.” Eve started for the door, stopped. “I figure you’ll make that deadline.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You won’t let him screw you over again.”

• • •

She mulled over the conversation, her impressions, what she’d seen, heard and felt on the drive home. All she needed was maybe a half hour more—that wasn’t much—to write it all up, shoot it off to Peabody, Mira.

And, okay, maybe another ten or fifteen to update her board, review the data Peabody would have accumulated by now.

Forty-five minutes, another hour tops, then she’d switch gears, go into full party-prep mode.

It was fair.

Satisfied with the bargain, she drove through the gates. And stopped the car in the middle of the long drive to gape. Appalled.

Trucks and vans and people crowded and swarmed at the entrance of the house. Those people carted trees—how could they possibly need more trees—plants, flowers, crates and boxes and God only knew.

She watched as some of the vehicles drove around the sprawling house to, she assumed, go around the side or the back where undoubtedly they’d unload more trees, plants, flowers, crates and boxes and God only knew.

They comprised an army of workmen, decorators, gofers. And she imagined this first wave didn’t include the second force that would deal with food and beverage.

You didn’t need armies for a party. You needed armies for a war.

Apparently, this was war.

And where the hell was she supposed to dump her car?

Seeing little choice, and hoping to avoid the various battalions for as long as possible, she drove around to the garage.

She sat in the car a moment, drumming her fingers, trying to remember how to gain access. Damn place was as big as a house. Normally she just parked out front. She knew Summerset—in his anal, everything in its stupid proper place way—remoted whatever vehicle she dumped there into the garage, and had it remoted back out front in the morning.

So she didn’t hassle with the garage as a rule. She considered leaving it where it was, but that felt stupid. Instead, she tapped the in-dash, tagged Roarke.

“Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, hey. Thought I should tell you I’m back.”

“And in a timely fashion.”

“Yeah. There’s a bunch of everybody out front. A parking lot of vehicles so I’m going to pull into the garage.”

“Well, all right then.”

“But, the thing is, I can’t remember the code.”

On the dash screen, he smiled at her. “Eve, have you still not read the bloody manual for your vehicle?”

“I find stuff when I need it.”

“In that case, you’ll find you’ve only to access your in-dash comp, request accessories, order the garage doors open by remote. It has your voiceprint. You’d close them the same way, or by the garage comp once you’ve parked.”

“Right. Got it. Thanks.”

“I could point out, that if you’d read the manual, you could have parked out front and sent the car to the garage by remote, but that would be rubbing it in, wouldn’t it?”

Rather than respond, she cut him off, snarled after the screen went blank. “Smart-ass. Computer engage.”

Engaged, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve.

“Accessories.”

Accessories confirmed. Would you like a listing by alpha order or by category?

“Just open the damn garage door.”

Do you wish to open the garage door at your current location, which is residence, or an alternate location?

“Why the hell would I want to open a door where I’m not? Never mind. Open the door, current location.”

Garage door, residence. Would you like to open the main door, the rear door, the second level—

“Main door, for God’s sake. Open the main garage door, residence.”

Garage, residence, main door opening.