In Death 13 - Seduction in Death

sleep."
    "Fine, go to bed. I don't know why I came here anyway." He stalked to the door, pulled it open. Slammed it shut again. "I went by Monroe's. We got into it."
    "What do you mean you..." she stammered. "You had a fight with Charles? Are you crazy?"
    "Maybe you don't think we've got anything going on, but you're wrong. That's it, you're wrong. And I see him pushing Dr. Blonde in your face, it pisses me off. Best thing could happen to you, in my opinion, but I didn't like the way he tossed you over."
    "Tossed me over," she repeated, dumbfounded.
    "You break up with somebody, you do it square. He's going to apologize."
    "He's going to apologize?"
    "What are you, an echo?"
    She had to sit. "Charles blackened your eye and split your lip?"
    "He got in a couple of shots." Not to mention the gut punch that had him heaving up the homemade brew in the gutter like a common brew head. "His face isn't so perfect tonight either."
    "Why are you all wet?"
    "Dishy Dimatto was with him. She dumped a bucket of water on us." He shoved his hands in his damp pockets and stomped around the room on his squeaky boots. "I'd've taken him if she hadn't broken it up. He shouldn't have treated you that way."
    Peabody opened her mouth to explain she hadn't been mistreated, then wisely closed it again. Her mother hadn't raised a foolish daughter. "It doesn't matter." She cast her eyes down in a sorrowful droop to hide the unholy gleam in them.
    McNab and Charles, fighting over her. It was too mag for words.
    "Hell it doesn't. If it helps any, I think he was really sorry."
    "He's a nice guy, McNab. Not the kind that hurts anyone on purpose."
    "Doesn't change the sting." He kneeled down in front of her. "Look, I want us to get back together."
    "We got together pretty good last night."
    "I don't mean just in the sheets. I want us to pick up the way we were going. But different."
    Wary now, she eased back. "Different how?"
    "Exclusive this time. And we can, you know, go out to some fancy places. He's not the only one who can get slicked up and take you to... wherever. I don't want to go out with anyone else, and I don't want you going out with anyone else either."
    Her throat tickled, but she was afraid to swallow. "So, what, you're asking me to go steady?"
    His face went hot, his teeth bared, and he shoved to his feet. "Never mind. Put it down to too much to drink." He swung toward the door again, nearly got there.
    "Yes." She got up. She wished her knees weren't knocking, but she got up.
    He turned back, slowly. "Yes what?"
    "I could give it a try. See where it goes."
    He took a step back. "Exclusive?"
    "Yeah."
    And another. "Like a couple."
    "Okay."
    When she smiled, he leaned in and kissed her. "Oh, shit!" then jolted back when pain exploded in his lip. He blotted at it with the back of his hand, saw fresh blood. "Got anything for this?"
    "Sure." She wanted to pet and cuddle him like a puppy. "Let me get the first-aid kit."
    When she came back in with it, the bulletin announcement on-screen caught her attention.
    The nude body of a man floating in the East River was discovered tonight by dock workers. Though police officials have not released cause of death, the victim has been identified as Dr. Theodore McNamara.
    "Holy hell." Peabody dropped the kit with a clatter and raced to her 'link.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
    The body had been transported to the morgue and the crime scene cordoned off by the time Eve arrived. Warehouses streamed in a messy ribbon of brick and concrete along the choppy slice between access road and river.
    And all had the washed-out, false glare from the police lights.
    The media jammed around the barricades and sensors like Saturday night hopefuls vying to gain admission to an exclusive club. And there was just as much chatter from them in the form of shouted questions, demands, and pleas.
    Uniformed officers stood in as bouncers. Most were smart enough to ignore the pleas, promises, and bribes for information. But, Eve knew, there would be one who'd weaken and spring the first leak in the data dam.
    Accepting it as the natural relationship between cops and media, she hooked her badge on her jacket and started muscling her way through.
    "Dallas, hey, Dallas!" Nadine Furst nipped her elbow. "What's the deal? Why were you called in? What's your connection to Theodore McNamara?"
    "I'm a cop. He's dead."
    "Come on, Dallas." Even in the harsh light, Nadine managed to look vivid and camera-ready. "They don't trot you out for every