Promises in Death (In Death #28)(85)

“Okay.” She noted Mira wore a dress—pale, pale blue and subtly elegant. “Do I have to change?”

“I think you should. It’ll put you in the mood. In fact, I’d love to get a look at your closet and pick something for you.”

“Fine, sure.” The trade-off would give her time to pick Mira’s brain. “Roarke said you talked to Morris before he left.”

“Yes, and we’ll talk again. He mentioned you suggested he see Father Lopez,” Mira continued as they went inside, started upstairs. “I’m glad you thought of it. Morris is a spiritual man, and I believe Lopez can help him cope with all he has to cope with. The work you gave him helps, too, and it’s good he’s self-aware enough to have asked for it. It keeps his mind active, and more, makes him a part of finding the answers.”

“I’ve got some questions.”

“I imagined you did.” Mira walked into the bedroom, and at Eve’s gesture, to the closet. She opened it, sighed. “Oh. Eve.”

“He’s always putting things in there.”

“It’s a fantasy. Like an eclectic little boutique.” She glanced back. “See, I’m already having fun. Ask your questions. I’ll multitask. Oh my God, the eveningwear alone!”

“I don’t have to wear a formal thing, do I?”

“No, no, just a moment’s distraction. Tell me what you’ve learned since the last report.”

Eve told her about Alex Ricker’s statements about his father, about Rod Sandy, Callendar’s progress, the prison guard. From the nearly sexual sounds Mira made inside the depths of the closet, Eve figured she was talking to herself. Still, orals always refined her thinking.

“This.” Mira stepped out with a flowing, thin-strapped dress the color of ripe plums. “It’s simple, comfortable, gorgeous.”

“Okay.”

“It also has slit pockets, so you can keep your ’link and communicator on you.” With an understanding smile, Mira passed the dress to Eve. “You’re wondering if Ricker could and would kill Coltraine simply as a punishment for his son. To order the hit for no profit or gain. Just spite.”

“I didn’t think you were listening.”

“I raised children. I know how to listen and do a myriad of other things at the same time. Yes. He could and he would. It’s absolutely his pathology. More, his son is free, he is not. His son despises him. He would only need to despise his son more. Yes, again, he would use—delight in using—a man his son considers his closest friend. He’d revel in it.”

“It was coming to New York that was the kicker, wasn’t it? Coltraine coming here to where I am, to where Roarke is. She signed her death warrant when she transferred here.”

“It’s not your doing, Eve.”

“I know that. I’m asking, in your opinion, if he had her killed to get back at his son and at me. He used a cop to do it. He’d have other ways, other means. But he used a cop. I know it. That was for me. Sending her weapon to me. A direct threat, a little reminder that it could be me. That was for Roarke.”

“At this time,” Mira said after a moment, “with this data, with this history, yes. He manipulated this one act to strike at the three people who most obsess him.”

“That’s what I thought. It’ll make taking his trigger down and shoving that in his face more satisfying.”

“I know your mind’s not on what’s going on downstairs.”

“It’s okay.” Eve tugged at the skirt of the dress. “I’ll multitask.”

A short time later, she wasn’t sure she had a mind. The pool house had been transformed into a female fantasy of gold, white, and silver canopies, lounge chairs, towering white candles. White tables held frothy pink drinks in crystal flutes, and silver trays of colorful food. Yet another held a tower of gifts with trailing ribbons.

To the far side of the deep blue water of the pool was the salon. Reclining chairs, massage tables, manicure and pedicure stations—and the tables with all those tools and implements that always gave Eve a slightly queasy stomach.

“Bellinis!” Mavis pushed one into Eve’s hand. “Mine are with the nonalchy bubbles since I’m nursing. But they’re still delish. We’re going to draw lots for services in a few minutes. After some lube.”

“Don’t put mine in.”

Mavis grinned. “Too late,” she said and danced off.

Eve thought: What the hell. And knocked back half the Bellini. It was pretty delish.

“What do you think?” Peabody asked, and gestured to encompass the whole space.

“I think it looks like a really classy bordello without any johns. In a good way.”

“That was pretty much the idea. Listen, while it’s all the chatter, we can slip out. You can fill me in on anything new.”

Eve looked at Peabody, looked at the space, looked over to where Louise laughed with a group of women. “It’s a party. The rest can wait. But since you asked, and meant it, the hurt downgrades from pig squeal to agonized moan.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Woot!”

As Mavis announced the first names for services, women shrieked. And Eve polished off the first Bellini.