Rapture in Death (In Death #4)(27)

“She’s got a groove going.”

Only deep affection for Mavis prevented Eve from leaping back into the soundproofing. “Apparently.”

“I’ll get your drinks. Jess, he brought the brew.”

Mary hulked off, leaving Eve and Peabody in a glass-walled control booth that curved in a semicircle a half level above a studio where Mavis was singing her heart and lungs out. With a grin, Eve moved closer to the glass, the better to see.

Mavis had scooped up her hair so that it spewed in a purple fountain out of a multicolored band. She was wearing modified overalls, the black leather straps running up the center of her bare br**sts. The rest of the material was a shimmering kaleidoscope that started at the midriff and ended barely south of the crotch. She danced to the beat on a fashionable pair of slides that left the feet bare and propped them onto four-inch stilts.

Eve had no doubt that Mavis’s lover had designed the costume for her. She spotted Leonardo in a corner of the studio, glowing like a sunbeam at Mavis and wearing a body-skimming jumpsuit that made him look like an elegant grizzly.

“What a pair,” she murmured and hooked her thumbs in the back pockets of her battered jeans. She turned her head to speak to Peabody, but noted her companion’s attention was riveted to the left, and the look on Peabody’s face, Eve noted with some curiosity, managed to combine shock, admiration, and lust.

Following Peabody’s distracted gaze, Eve had her first view of Jess Barrow. He was beautiful. A painting in motion with a long, shining mane of hair the color of polished oak. His eyes were nearly silver, thickly lashed, intensely focused, as he worked the controls of an elaborate console. His complexion was flawless, tanned to bronze set off by rounded cheekbones and a strong chin. His mouth was full and firm, and his hands, as they flew over the controls, were as finely sculptured as marble.

“Roll up your tongue, Peabody,” Eve suggested, “before you step on it.”

“God. Holy God. He’s better in person. Don’t you just want to bite him?”

“Not particularly, but you go ahead.”

Catching herself, Peabody flushed to the roots of her hair. She shifted on her sturdy legs. This was, she reminded herself, her superior. “I admire his talent.”

“Peabody, you’re admiring his chest. It’s a pretty good one, so I can’t hold it against you.”

“I wish he would,” she murmured, then cleared her throat as Big Mary stomped back with two dark brown bottles. “Jess gets this brew from his family down South. It’s fine.”

Since it was also unmarked and unlabeled, Eve prepared to sacrifice a few layers of stomach lining. She was pleasantly surprised when the liquid slid mellowly down her throat. “It is fine. Thanks.”

“You add to the kitty, you can have more. I’m supposed to go down to wait for Roarke. I hear he’s got money to roll in. How come you’re not wearing some flash, you linked up with a rich man?”

Eve decided not to mention the baby-fist-sized diamond resting between her br**sts under her shirt. “My underwear’s solid gold. It chafes some, but it makes me feel secure.”

After another brief processing delay, Mary hooted with laughter, slapped Eve on the back hard enough to bop her head into the glass, then headed off in her rock-breaking stride.

“We ought to sign her up,” Eve muttered. “She wouldn’t need a weapon or body armor.”

The music built to an ear-scorching crescendo, then cut off as if severed with a knife. Below, Mavis let out a squeal and launched herself into Leonardo’s open arms.

“That was a nice take, sugar.” Jess’s voice flowed out like top cream and drifted lazily with a Southern drawl. “You take ten and rest that golden throat for me.”

Mavis’s idea of resting her throat was to let out another scream, then wave desperately at Eve. “Dallas, you’re here. Wasn’t that mag? I’m coming up, don’t go anywhere.” She scrambled through a door on her trendy stilts.

“So this is Dallas.” Jess pushed away from his console. His body was trim and showed off to advantage in jeans as battered as Eve’s and a simple cotton shirt that would retail for a beat cop’s monthly paycheck. He wore a diamond stud in his ear that glinted as he crossed the booth and a braided gold chain around his wrist that slid fluidly as he held out one of those beautiful hands. “Mavis is brimming over with stories about her cop.”

“Mavis brims over habitually. It’s part of her charm.”

“That it is. I’m Jess, and I’m delighted to meet you at last.” With his hand still cupped over Eve’s, he turned that slow, heart-thudding smile onto Peabody. “And it seems we have two cops for the price of one.”

“I — I’m a huge fan,” Peabody managed and fought against the nervous stutter. “I have all of your discs, audio and video. I’ve seen you in concert.”

“Music buffs are always welcome.” He released Eve’s hand to take hers. “Why don’t I show you my favorite toy?” he suggested, leading her toward the console. Before Eve could follow, Mavis burst in.

“What did you think? Did you like it? I wrote it. Jess orchestrated it, but I wrote it. He thinks it could hit.”

“I’m really proud of you. You sounded great.” Eve returned Mavis’s enthusiastic embrace and grinned at Leonardo over her shoulder. “How does it feel to be hooked up with a rising music legend?”