Reunion in Death (In Death #14)(7)

She saw it now-cupcakes, cookies, and what appeared to have been a pie before a pack of wolves had descended on it. And she spotted two civilians in the middle of that pack. The tall, skinny man and the robust, pretty woman were both beaming smiles and pouring some sort of pale pink liquid out of an enormous jug.

"Stand down! Every one of you, stand down and go back about your business. This isn't a damn tea party."

Before she could push her way through to the civilians, she heard Peabody scream.

She whirled, weapon leaping into her hand, and was nearly plowed down as her aide streaked by and launched herself at the civilians.

The man caught her, and skinny or not managed to lift the sturdy Peabody right off her feet. The woman spun, her long blue skirts swirling as she threw out her arms and made an odd and effective Peabody sandwich.

"There's my girl. There's my DeeDee." The man's face glowed with such obvious adoration, Eve's hand slid away from her weapon and dangled at her side.

"Daddy." With something between a sob and a giggle, Peabody buried her face against his neck.

"Chokes me up," Baxter murmured and snagged another cupcake. "Got here about fifteen minutes ago. Brought the good stuff with them. Man, these things are lethal," he added and chomped into another cupcake.

Eve drummed her fingers on her thigh. "What kind of pie was that?"

Baxter grinned. "Exceptional," he told her, and strolled back to his desk.

The woman loosened her death grip around Peabody's waist and turned. She was remarkably pretty, with the same dark hair as her daughter worn in a long waterfall down her back. Her blue skirt swept down to simple rope sandals. Her blouse was long and loose and the color of buttercups, and over it were at least a half-dozen chains and pendants.

Her face was softer than Peabody's, with lines of time fanning out from the corners of direct and gleaming brown eyes. She moved like a dancer when she crossed to Eve, both hands outstretched.

"You're Lieutenant Dallas. I'd have known you anywhere." She gripped both of Eve's hands in hers. "I'm Phoebe, Delia's mother."

Her hands were warm, a little rough at the palms, and studded with rings. Bracelets clanged and jangled on her wrists.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Peabody."

"Phoebe." She smiled, and still gripping Eve's hands drew her forward. "Sam, let the girl loose so you can meet Lieutenant Dallas."

He shifted, but kept his arm tight around Peabody's shoulders. "I'm so happy to meet you." He took Eve's hand, still cupped in his wife's. "I feel like I already have, with everything Peabody's told us about you. And Zeke. We'll never be able to thank you enough for what you did for our son."

A little uneasy with all that good will beaming out at her, Eve slipped her hand free. "How's he doing?"

"Very well. I'm sure he'd have sent his best if he'd known we were coming."

He smiled then, slow and easy. She could see the resemblance now, between him and Peabody's brother. The narrow, apostle's face, the eyes of dreamy gray. But there was something sharp in Sam Peabody's eyes, something that had Eve's neck prickling.

This man wasn't the puppy dog his son was.

"Give him mine when you talk to him. Peabody, take some personal time."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"That's very kind of you," Phoebe said. "I wonder if it's possible for us to have a little of your time. You must be busy," she went on before Eve could speak, "but I'd hoped we might have a meal together tonight. With you and your husband. We have gifts for you."

"You don't have to give us anything."

"The gifts aren't from obligation but from affection, and we hope you'll enjoy them. Delia's told us so much about you, and Roarke and your home. It must be a magnificent place. I hope Sam and I will have an opportunity to see it."

Eve could feel the box being built around her, see the lid slowly closing. And Phoebe only continued to smile serenely while Peabody suddenly took an avid interest in the ceiling.

"Sure. Ah. You could come for dinner."

"We'd love to. Would eight o'clock work?"

"Yeah, eight's fine. Peabody knows the way. Anyway, welcome to New York. I've got some... stuff," she finished lamely and eased back to escape.

"Lieutenant? Sir? Be right back," Peabody murmured to her parents and lit out after Eve. Before they'd gotten to her office door, the noise level in the bullpen rose again.

"They can't help it," Peabody said quickly. "My father really likes to bake, and he's always bringing food places."

"How the hell'd they get all that here on a plane?"

"Oh, they don't fly. They'd have come in their camper. Baking all the way," she added with a fluttery smile. "Aren't they great?"

"Yeah, but you've got to tell them not to bring cupcakes every time they come in to see you. We'll end up with a bunch of fat detectives in sugar comas."

"Snagged you one." Peabody brought out the cupcake she held behind her back. I'll just take a couple hours, Dallas, get them settled in."

"Take the rest of the day."

"Okay. Thanks. Really. Um..." She winced, then closed the office door. "There's this thing I should tell you. About my mother. She has the power."