Portrait in Death (In Death #16)(35)

"The staff-the counselors and crisis workers-are wonderful. I can promise you that. You've met most of them."

"And I'm grateful to you for finding the right people. I don't know my way around this sort of thing, Louise. We'd never have pulled this off without you."

"Oh, I think you would have, but not half as well," she added with a grin. "Speaking of the right people," she said, pausing by the steps leading up to the second floor. "How is PA Spence working out for you?"

He let out a long breath, knowing there would be more hell to pay when he got home again. "When I left, she hadn't yet smothered Summerset in his sleep."

"That's a plus. I'll try to stop by and take a look at him myself." She glanced up the steps, broke into a huge smile. "Moira, just who I wanted to see. Have you got a free minute? I'd like you to meet our benefactor."

"That makes me sound like an old man with a beard and a belly."

"And that you're surely not."

Roarke lifted a brow when he heard the Irish in her voice. He could see it in her face, as well. The soft white skin, the pug nose and rounded cheeks. She wore her dark blonde hair in a short wedge to frame them. Her eyes, he noted, were misty blue and clever. The sort that warned him she would see what she intended to see and keep her thoughts to herself.

"Roarke, this is Moira O'Bannion, our head crisis counselor. You two have something in common. Moira's originally from Dublin, too."

"Yes," Roarke said easily. "So I can hear."

"It does stick with you, doesn't it?" Moira offered a hand. "I've lived in America for thirty years, and never have shaken it. Dia dhuit. Conas ta tu?"

"Maith, go raibh maith agat."

"So, you do speak the old tongue," she noted.

"A bit."

"I said hello, and asked how he was," Moira told Louise. "Tell me, Roarke, have you family yet in Ireland?"

"No."

If she noticed the flat, and very cool tone of the single syllable, she gave no sign. "Ah well. New York's your home now, isn't it? I moved here with my husband, he's a Yank himself, when I was twenty-six, so I suppose it's mine as well."

"We're lucky it is." Louise touched her arm as she turned to Roarke. "I stole Moira for us from Carnegie Health Center. Their loss is very much our gain."

"I think it was the right choice, all around," Moira commented. "This is a fine thing you've done with this place, Roarke. It's the finest of its kind I've seen, and I'm pleased to be a part of it."

"High praise from Moira," Louise said with a laugh. "She's a very tough sell."

"No point in saying what you don't mean. Have you seen the roof garden as yet?"

"I was hoping I'd have time to take him up." Wincing, Louise glanced at her wrist unit. "But I'm running behind. You really should take a look before you go, Roarke."

"I'd be pleased to show you," Moira said. "Would you mind if we use the elevator? There are a number of groups and classes in session on the upper levels. The sight of you might make some of the residents uneasy."

"That's fine."

"You're in good and capable hands." Louise rose to her toes to kiss Roarke's cheek. "Give my best to Dallas. I'll drop by and see Summerset the very first chance I get."

"He'll look forward to it."

"Thanks, Moira. I'll see you in a few days. If you need anything-"

"Yes, yes, go on now. Not to worry." She shooed Louise, then gestured. "She never walks when she can run," Moira added as Louise dashed toward the doors. "A bundle of energy and dedication, all wrapped up in brains and heart. Thirty minutes with her, and I was agreeing to resigning my position at the center and taking one here-and at quite a significant cut in salary."

"A difficult woman to resist."

"Oh aye. And you're married to one I'm told." She led the way through another living area and to a narrow elevator. "A woman of energy and dedication."

"I am."

"I've seen the two of you on the news reports, from time to time. Or read of you." She stepped inside. "Roof please," she ordered. "Do you get back to Dublin often?"

"Occasionally." He knew when he was being studied and measured, and so studied and measured in turn. "I have some business interests there."

"And no personal ones?"

He met those eyes, those clever eyes, straight on. He also knew when he was being pumped. "A friend or two. But I've a friend or two in a number of places, and no more ties to Dublin than anywhere else."

"My father was a solicitor there, and my mother a doctor. Both still are, come to that. But life gets so busy, I'm lucky to get back every second year for a few weeks. It's come back well from the Urban Wars."

"For the most part." He had a flash of the tenements where he'd grown up. The war hadn't been kind to them.

"And here we are." She stepped out when the doors opened. "Isn't this something? A little bit of country, high up here in the middle of the city."

He saw the dwarf trees, the flowering beds, the tidy squares of vegetables with straight paths lined between. A faint mist from the perpetual sprinkler system kept everything lush and watered in the blazing heat.