Reunion in Death (In Death #14)(19)

"She looked at me."

"And?"

"She looked at me," he repeated with a kind of baffled fascination, "and from there it's difficult to explain. She was saying how comforting it was to her and Sam to know their Delia had such good friends, generous souls and something of the like. And how much it meant to them to have this time to get to know those friends. Before I knew it I was arranging for their things to be fetched, and she was kissing me good night."

"Peabody said she has the power."

"I'm here to tell you, the woman has something. It's not that I mind. It's a big house, and I like both of them quite a lot. But, for Christ's sake, I usually know what I'm going to say before it comes spurting out of my mouth."

Amused now, she straddled him where he sat, hooked her arms behind his neck. "She put the whammy on you. I'm kind of sorry I missed it."

There, you see? You do love me."

"Probably."

She was grinning when she let him roll her into bed.

...

In the morning, Eve did a thirty-minute workout in the gym, and finished it off with laps in the pool. When she had the time, it was a routine that invariably cleared her mind and got her blood moving. By the time she pushed off for the tenth lap, she'd outlined her next steps in the Pettibone case.

Tracking Julianna Dunne was priority, and that meant digging through the old files, taking a hard look at patterns, associates, routines, and habits. It meant, in all probability, a trip to Dockport, to interview any inmates or guards Julianna had formed a relationship with.

Though if memory served, Julianna was very skilled at keeping herself to herself.

Next priority was motive. Who'd wanted Pettibone dead? Who'd benefited? His wife, his children. Possibly a business competitor.

A woman who looked like Bambi would have had other men in her life. That bore looking into. A former lover, jealousy. Or a long-term plan to hook the rich old guy, soak him, then eliminate him.

Then there was the ex-wife, who might have gained revenge and satisfaction in paying him back for dumping her.

Could be Pettibone wasn't the saint people were making him out to be. He might have known Julianna. He might have been one of her potential targets a decade ago, someone she'd seduced into an affair. Or she could have researched him while she was in prison, then played with him after her release.

That angle was high on her list, but it was too early to dismiss any possibility.

To know the killer, know the victim, she thought. This time she knew the killer, but to find the motive, she had to learn more about Pettibone. And reacquaint herself with Julianna Dunne.

At the end of twenty laps, feeling loose and limber, she slicked her hair back and stood in the shallows. As she started to hoist herself out, she caught a movement among the jungle of plants. Her head snapped up; her body braced.

"Well, if that's what the bad guys see before you arrest them, it's a wonder they don't fall to their knees begging for mercy."

Phoebe stepped forward, holding a towel. "I'm sorry," she added. "I know you didn't hear me come in. I got caught up watching you. You swim like a fish, in the best sense of the term."

Because she was also naked as a fish, Eve took the towel, quickly wrapped herself in it. "Thanks."

"Roarke said you'd be down here. I brought you some coffee." She took an oversized mug off the table. "And one of Sam's amazing croissants. I wanted to take a moment to thank you for your hospitality."

"No problem. You, ah, settle in okay?"

"It would be hard to do otherwise here. Do you have a minute, or are you in a rush?"

"Well, I-"

"The croissant's fresh." She held out the plate, close enough that the fragrance of it hypnotized. "Sam managed to charm Summerset into letting him use the kitchen."

"I can take a minute." Because putting on a robe would mean taking off the towel first, she sat as she was. And because Phoebe was watching her, she broke off a corner of the croissant.

"It's great." And immediately broke off another piece. "Seriously great."

"Sam's a brilliant cook. Eve-can I call you Eve? I know most don't."

Maybe it was that steady look, or the tone of voice or a combination of both, but Eve found herself wanting to squirm in her chair. "Sure, okay."

"I make you uncomfortable. I wish I didn't."

"No, you..." She did squirm. "I'm just not good with people."

"I don't think that's true. You've been good with Delia. Exceptionally good. And don't tell me it's just the job, because I know it's not." Phoebe picked up a mug of tea, watching Eve as she drank. "There's been a change in her this past year. She's grown, as a person. Dee always seemed to know what she wanted to do, to be, but since working for you she's found her place. She's more confident, sadder in some ways, I think because of the things she's seen and had to do. But stronger for them. Her letters and calls are full of you. I wonder if you know how much it means to her that you made her a part of who you are."

"Listen, Mrs. Peabody... Phoebe," she corrected. "I don't-I haven't-" She blew out a breath. "I'm going to say something about Peabody, and I don't want it getting back to her."