In Death 14 - Reunion in Death

me I got the bars. Not much more we can do for you. Frankly, I'd like to see you take her down in New York. I'd miss the party, but fuck if I want her dropped back in Dockport."
    ...
    She was back in New York by five, and opted to head home instead of swinging into Central. She'd work there and reassure herself of Roarke's safety.
    He didn't fit target profile, she reminded herself. He was too young, had no ex-wife. But he also had a wife who'd played a large part in bringing Julianna down.
    She was nearly home when she made an impulsive detour and headed to Dr. Mira's.
    She parked in a loading zone a half block down, flipped on her on duty light, then jogged to the dignified old brownstone. There were soft pink and white flowers in pale blue pots cheering up the entrance. A woman one door up led out an enormous dog with long golden hair decorated with red bows. It sent Eve a friendly woof, then pranced away with its owner as if they were off to a parade.
    On the other side, a trio of boys burst outside, whooping like maniacs. Each carried a fluorescent airboard and zipped away down the sidewalk like rockets off a launch pad.
    A man in a business suit with a palm-link stuck to his ear had to dodge clear, but rather than shouting or shaking a fist after them, he only chuckled, kept talking as he turned toward the door of another townhouse.
    One more side of New York, Eve thought. The friendly, upper class neighborhood. In all probability people actually knew each other's name on this block. Got together now and then for cocktails, herded kids or grandchildren down to the park in groups, and stopped to chat on doorsteps.
    It was exactly the sort of milieu that suited Dr. Charlotte Mira.
    Eve turned to the door, rang the bell. Then immediately changed her mind. She had no business busting in on Mira's home time. She'd actually stepped back, thinking retreat, when the door opened.
    She recognized Mira's husband though they'd rarely had personal contact. He was tall and gangly, a kind of comfortable scarecrow in a baggy cardigan and wrinkled slacks. His hair was pewter, a wild, interesting mop tangled around a long face that was somehow both scholarly and innocent.
    He carried a pipe, and his sweater was misbuttoned.
    He smiled, his eyes, the color of winter grass, puzzled. "Hello. How are you?"
    "Ah. Fine. I'm sorry, Mr. Mira, I shouldn't be disturbing you at home. I was just-"
    "You're Eve." His face cleared, warmed. "It takes me a minute. Recognized your voice. Come in, come in."
    "Actually, I should-"
    But he reached out, gripped her hand, and pulled her in the door. "Didn't realize you were coming by. Can't keep track. Charlie!" He shouted toward the steps. "Your Eve's here."
    The protest died in Eve's throat at the idea of the elegant Mira being called Charlie.
    "Come sit down. I think I was fixing drinks. Mind wanders. Drives Charlie crazy. Ha-ha."
    "I'm interrupting. I'll just see Dr. Mira tomorrow."
    "Yes, there's the wine. I was sure I brought it in. I'm sorry, help me out. Are we having dinner?"
    He was still holding her hand, and she could find no polite way to tug free. And he was smiling at her with such amiable confusion and humor, she fell just a little bit in love.
    "No, you weren't expecting me at all."
    "Then what a nice surprise."

CHAPTER 8
    Before she could respond, Mira rushed in and Eve experienced yet another shock at seeing the consistently elegant Mira in an oversized white T-shirt and black skin-pants. Her feet were bare, the nails painted a pretty candy pink.
    "Dennis? Who did you say... Why, Eve."
    "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here. I was on my way home, and I... I apologize for disturbing you at home. I'll just, ah, contact your office in the morning."
    It was rare, Mira thought, to see Eve flustered. "We're not the least disturbed. Are we having wine, Dennis?"
    "Are we?" He looked baffled again, then stared down at the bottle in his hand. "Oh. Yes, we are. I'll get another glass."
    "No, please. Don't bother. I shouldn't be here. I should go."
    "Don't be silly." Mira smiled at her. "Sit down. If you're on duty, we can offer you something soft rather than wine."
    "No, I'm off, but-"
    "Good." She crossed the room, pausing to rebutton her husband's cardigan with such simple intimacy that it made Eve feel more like an intruder than if they'd exchanged a wet, sloppy kiss. Mira chose another glass herself from a display cabinet, then simply laid a hand on Eve's shoulder to nudge her into a