Apprentice in Death (In Death #43)(112)

She rose, wandered, found her board—she only had to roll it out of the slot in the wall.

A kitchen area, updated big-time—shiny, yes, but simple.

And simple again, an arrangement of floating shelves—probably real wood, she mused—holding some of her useless but prized things.

The stuffed Galahad Roarke had given her, the statue of the goddess was a gift from Peabody’s mother, a sheriff’s badge, a fancy magnifying glass, a photograph of her and Roarke taken when they’d been banged up some after an arrest, and smiling at each other.

He’d added art—or the designer had—which hadn’t been run by her. But . . . how could she argue with the framed cityscapes? Her city.

Their city.

She frowned at the thick green plastic boards over what was obviously a wide hole in the side of the room. “What happened there?”

“It’s more what’s happening. As I said, there are details yet. This is something extra. When it’s done, the dining area goes in front of what will be glass. You open the glass and you’ll be able to step out onto a small terrace. I thought you’d enjoy that. We’d enjoy eating here with the glass open in fine weather.”

We, she thought. He’d designed the old office for her.

This one was for them.

“You were right, and not just because it looks really good. You were right because it’s my space, sure, but it’s for both of us. You were right, it was time.”

“Remember you said that when we start on the bedroom.”

“Not going to think about that. This is much too frosty. Now I need to start playing with my command center.”

“I’ll give you some pointers, then leave you to it for a couple hours. That’s about what we have before we need to leave for Bella’s party.”

“The what?” Already halfway across the room, she stopped, turned on her heel. “Oh, but . . . Look, don’t you think we could skip that? I mean, bruised up, tired out, saved New York? She’s not going to notice or care if we’re around. She’s one.”

“I know as little as you about the mind of a one-year-old. But I know Mavis.”

“Crap, crap, crap. We have to go.” Shoving at her hair, Eve sent the command center a look of longing. “Okay. So we go for, say, an hour, ninety minutes tops, then we come back. Take that swim. We can have pool sex.”

“That sounds like a bribe.” Considering, amusement clear, he nodded. “I’m very susceptible to the right kind of bribe. I believe we have a deal.”

“Solid.” She headed straight back to command.

—

She got her two hours, found it exhilarating and amazing. The comp was so quick, it all but anticipated her commands, the screen images so clear she almost felt she could walk into them.

The holo functions would take her a while to get a steady handle on, but even now she could see using them to put herself back into a crime scene, or bring a wit, a consultant, a potential suspect right into her space.

In all her wildest dreams, she could never have imagined having so much tech right at her fingertips. Even though it meant actually dealing with tech.

But the best, the abso-ult, as Mavis would say, was discovering the mini unit that allowed her to program coffee right at her command center.

That little bonus had her doing a mental happy dance even as they left for Bella’s party.

“It’s going to be really exceptional pool sex.”

Roarke slid behind the wheel. “Is it now?”

She yanked him to her, gave him a hard kiss. “Better stick to the shallow end, because we could drown. And even then.”

“Life’s full of risks. And we are the brave.”

“An hour, ninety minutes tops, right?”

“For pool sex?”

Laughing, she punched his shoulder.

She decided a Sunday afternoon drive downtown didn’t completely suck. Closed case, long sleep, hot food—and a command center. Life could be a lot worse.

Maybe it would be the first first birthday party she’d ever attended, but how bad could it be?

Better not think about it.

“You’re sure the present deal got there?” she asked as he maneuvered into a parking place.

“I am.”

“I just don’t want to screw up, be those people who forgot the present for the kid.”

“Delivered yesterday, and stowed away by Leonardo.”

“Okay. I bet there are going to be others there.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“No, I mean others. The others who crawl or walk like drunks with their hands waving, or zip around like Bella.”

“Ah, as in children. I’m sure you’re right.”

“Why do they stare? They’re always staring. Like dolls,” she said as they walked into the building. “Or sharks.”

“I have no idea, but now I’ll likely worry about it.”

“Join the club.”

She took the stairs as she had countless times before Roarke, to the apartment that had once been hers. To the apartment, she thought, that, like her home office, no longer remotely resembled what had been hers.

She was a lot more than okay with that.

“Start the clock,” she told Roarke, and knocked.