Memory in Death (In Death #22)(44)

Peabody's response was incoherent and muffled against Eve's shoulder. "Get snot on my coat, and I'll strangle you with that scarf after I kick your ass."

"I can't believe it. I just can't believe it." Sniffling, Peabody drew back. "It's the ult. Thanks. Man. Oh boy, thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"I guess I've got to go now." Peabody stared down at the box. "I mean, the main part of the excuse—reason. I meant reason. The main part's flipped, so... Gosh."

"Whatever." She'd been feeling pretty good, Eve remembered. And now a frustration headache was circling just over the crown of her skull. "Do you think, maybe, we could go spend just a couple minutes on murder now? Will that fit into your schedule?"

"Yeah. I can shuffle it in. I'm good now. Thanks, Dallas. Really. Thanks. God, I have to go now. I actually have to go."

"Peabody," Eve said, darkly, as they entered the building. "Ice is thinning."

"I'm nearly finished obsessing. Just another minute."

The same droid manned the desk. Eve didn't bother to flash her badge, but started up the steps as Peabody muttered to herself. Something about packing, a red sweater, and five pounds.

Ignoring her, Eve checked the seal on the crime scene, found it undisturbed, then continued down the hall. "Once they're out of the room and gone, I want sweepers. Full sweep," she added. "Cover the bases."

She knocked, and seconds later Bobby opened the door. His face looked gaunt, as if grief had carved away some of the flesh. He smelled of soap, and indeed she could see the open bathroom doorway behind him, and the faint sheen of steam still on the mirror over the sink.

There was a murmur from the entertainment screen, as the on-air reporter recounted the morning's headlines.

"Come in. Ah, come in. I thought you were Zana. That maybe she'd forgotten her key."

"She's not here?"

"She went out to get some coffee, some bagels and stuff. I thought she'd be back by now. We packed last night," he said when Eve glanced at the two suitcases standing by the door. "We wanted to be ready to go. We just don't want to stay here."

"Why don't we sit down, Bobby. We can get some of this out of the way before Zana gets back."

"She should've been back by now. The message said she'd only be twenty minutes."

"Message?"

"Um..." He looked around the room, one hand raking distractedly through his hair. "She set a message alarm for me. She does things like that. Said she woke up early and wanted to go down to this deli she'd seen a few blocks from here, get some stuff so you'd have coffee when you got here. I don't like her being out there, alone. After what happened to Mama."

"Probably a line at the deli, that's all. She say which one?"

"I don't remember." But he went to the bed, picked up the little travel clock on the table, hit playback.

Morning, honey. Time to get up now. Your clothes for today are in the top drawer of the dresser, remember? I'm already up, don't want to wake you. I know you didn't sleep very well. I'm just running out to get some coffee and some bagels or danishes, something. Doesn't feel right to have your friend coming by and not have anything to offer. I should've stocked the AutoChef before. Sorry, honey. I'll be twenty minutes—just running to that deli a couple blocks down.

Or up. I can't figure this city out. Deli Delish. I'll have coffee for you when you get out of the shower. I love you, honey.

Noting the time on the stamp, Eve flicked Peabody a glance.

"Why don't I walk out and meet her?" Peabody said. "Give her a hand."

"Have a seat, Bobby," Eve told him. "I have a few questions."

"Okay." He stared at the door Peabody closed behind her. "I shouldn't worry. It's just that she's never been to New York. She probably turned the wrong way coming out, something like that. Got turned around, that's all."

"Peabody'll find her. Bobby, how long have you known your partner?"

"D.K.? Since college."

"So you're tight—on a personal level?"

"Yeah, sure. I was best man at his wedding, and he was at mine. Why?"

"He knew your mother then?"

"I had to tell him, had to call and tell him yesterday." When his mouth trembled, Bobby firmed it. "He's covering for me back home. Said he'd come out here if I needed him to. Don't want him to do that. Christmas coming, and he's got a family." Bobby put his head in his hands. "Nothing he can do anyway. Nothing to do."

"What kind of relationship did he have with your mother?"

"Careful." When he lifted his head, he nearly mustered a smile. "Oil and water, you know?"

"Why don't you explain it to me?"

"Well, D.K., he's what you'd call a risk-taker. I never would've gone out on my own if he hadn't nudged me. My mama, she could be a little critical of people. She didn't think we'd make it in the business, but we're doing okay."

"They didn't get along?"

"Mostly, D.K. and Marita stayed out of her way. Marita's his wife."