Reunion in Death (In Death #14)(38)

"And why she's still here. I know she's still here. She's cut out a step in her past procedure. She doesn't bother with the affair, the marriage. She won't try to seduce him. But if she is sighting Roarke, she'll be working out a way to get to him."

She pushed out of the chair again, jammed her hands in her pockets and paced. "Damn it, you know what's going to happen now. I'm going to go home, tell Roarke, demand he increase security and add police protection. He'll balk, tell me he can protect himself. Blah, blah, blah. Then we'll have a fight." She sighed. "Well, we haven't had a fight in a while. I guess we're due."

"If you're afraid for him, let him see it."

"I know he can take care of himself. But it doesn't stop me from worrying about him."

"I imagine he has the same conflict about you, every time you walk out of the house with that weapon strapped to your side. Whether or not you fight about it, you'll find a way to work through it together. That's marriage."

"A lot of marriage is a pain in the ass."

"Oh, it certainly is."

"You fixed his buttons," Eve murmured.

"What?"

Surprised she'd spoken aloud, Eve stopped and very nearly flushed. "Nothing."

"Buttons? What-Oh! Dennis's sweater." Mira pressed a hand to her heart and laughed. "Yes, I suppose I did. He never pays attention to his clothes or to mine, for that matter. It still annoys me when I have a new outfit, look particularly good, and he doesn't see it."

"I like him."

"So do I."

"I'll let you two get back to... things. Tell him thanks for the wine. I appreciate you taking the time like this."

"You're always welcome here." She rose to walk Eve out.

"Dr. Mira?"

"Yes?"

"What did your husband mean, that you were right about me?"

"He could have meant any number of things, but under those circumstances, I believe he meant I was right when I described you as brilliant, complicated, and valiant. Now I've embarrassed you." Gently, Mira touched her lips to Eve's cheek. "Go home and fight with Roarke."

...

She didn't want to fight. She just wanted him to fall into line for a change. Since the chances of that were nil, she outlined a couple of approaches on the drive home.

But when she walked into the house, there was a party going on.

She heard music, laughter, voices, and immediately felt her temples throb at the prospect of having to deal with people. Even the sound of her well-loved friend Mavis's wild giggles didn't stop the headache from coming on.

She imagined herself sneaking upstairs like a thief and hiding in a dark room with a locked door.

Valiant, my ass, she thought.

She took one cautious step toward the stairs when Summerset slithered into the foyer and caught her.

"Lieutenant. You have guests."

"What, am I deaf?"

"Perhaps your hearing is defective as you were going in the opposite direction from the gathering in the parlor."

"Maybe I was just going upstairs to change or something." Because she knew it was weak, because he simply stood with that saber-thin sneer on his cadaverous face, she hunched her shoulders. "Oh, bite me," she muttered and headed into the parlor.

"There she is!" Mavis spun across the room, a little whirlwind with bunches of purple flowers arranged in strategic points over her body. Her hair was moonbeam silver tonight, with more flowers bursting out of it. She gave Eve an enthusiastic hug, then bounced on silver shoes with four-inch flower stalk heels.

"Leonardo and I were heading down to the Down and Dirty for some action, and swung by to see if you and Roarke were up for it. And look who we found." She spun around to grin at Phoebe and Sam. "I tagged Peabody, and she and McNab are going to meet us at the D and D. Roarke said maybe you wouldn't get home in time, but here you are."

"Here I am. I've got work, Mavis."

"Hey, take a couple hours to rock." She pulled Eve into the room. "Start with my zinger. Leonardo, baby doll, where'd I put my zinger?"

At six and a half feet, the golden skinned love of Mavis's life was nothing like a baby doll. He was bare-chested but for a red satin X across his pecs that seemed to be holding up the fluid, shimmering pants that flowed from his waist to the toes of his red, crisscrossing sandals. Ruby studs forming a chevron at the corner of his left eye winked as he grinned and passed Mavis her glass.

"Good to see you, Dallas." He bent down, gave her one of his shy, butterfly kisses. "I'll get you a fresh zinger if you want."

"I'll pass, but thanks." She shot Roarke a grateful look when he turned down the volume of the music. "Sorry I'm later than I planned," she told him. "I had a stop to make on the way home."

"No problem." He came to her and under the guise of a welcome-home kiss, murmured, "Do you want me to get rid of them?"

She nearly said yes, but it seemed petty and mean. "No. We can take an hour at the D and D if you're up for it."

He tipped up her chin. "You have something on your mind."

"It'll keep."

"And a headache as well."