In Death 15 - Purity in Death

more than anything I can do. Roarke's made arrangements with the Jonas-Ludworg Clinic? How typical of him."
    "It's a good place, right?"
    "There is none better."
    "Okay." She pressed the heels of her hands to her forehead. "That's good."
    "You've had a lousy day, haven't you?"
    "Oh, yeah."
    "I hope some better news comes along."
    "I got some news anyway." She dropped her hands. "Mavis is knocked up."
    "Oh my God. Mavis was attacked?"
    "No, it was Leonardo."
    Mira clutched a hand to her breast. Shock radiated onto her face. "Leonardo? Leonardo beat Mavis?"
    "Beat her? No, he banged her. You know, knocked her up." Confused, Eve shook her head, then began to laugh as the light dawned. "Sperm meets egg," she managed as she had her first genuine laugh of the day. "She's pregnant."
    "Pregnant? Mavis is pregnant? Knocked up. Lord, I'd forgotten that term. This is news. Are they pleased?"
    "Circling Pluto. He's already designing her fat clothes."
    "Oh my. Won't that be a sight to see. When is she due?"
    "Due for what? Oh, right. She said she should pop by March. She's writing a song about it. Knocked Up By Love."
    "Sounds like another hit. They'll make wonderful and unique parents. How do you feel about it? Aunt Eve?"
    There was a jolt, dead center of the belly. "I feel like if anybody calls me that, I'll have to hurt them. Even you."
    With a laugh, Mira sat back. "This will all be fascinating to watch. If you speak with Mavis again before I do, be sure to give her my love and congratulations."
    "Sure. No problem." Eve snuck another look at her wrist unit.
    "And I can see you're anxious to get back to work. Would you mind if I just sat here a while longer, finished my wine?"
    "No, go ahead. I've really got to get back to it."
    "Good luck." When Eve went in, Mira sipped her wine, looked at the flowers and the bright, bright bird. And daydreamed a little.
    ***
    Eve stopped by the lab first, then just backed out again. There was some discussion, debate, or argument going on in the sort of tech jargon that invariably gave her a headache.
    Deciding they'd let her know something when they had something to let her know, she swung into the room Baxter was using as an office.
    "What's the word?"
    "I've got many names connected to one or more of the vics that are in the system. Cops, lawyers, Child Services, medicals, the handful of complainants that weren't sealed. Broke that down to names that popped on at least two of the vics and ran those. Just zipped the data to your unit. Our pal Nadine Furst covered the George trial. That putz Chang's down as media liaison."
    "I guess that figures." She sat on the edge of his desk. "What's your gut?"
    "That if we've got any family members involved, and we do, they're in the sealeds. You're stewing about it; you're carrying wounds over it; you want your privacy."
    "Yeah, that's mine, too. And if you're going to talk to anyone about it, about what you're carrying, it's going to be somebody who was there with you. Somebody who knows and stood for you and yours."
    "You're looking at Clarissa Price."
    "And looking hard. You know anything about DS Dwier, out of the Sixteenth?"
    "Nothing I didn't read in his file when he popped. Want me to ask around?"
    "Yeah, quietly." She hesitated. "Does it bother you?"
    "Looking at another badge?" Baxter puffed out his lean cheeks. "Yeah, some. It's supposed to bother us. Otherwise, we'd all be IAB, wouldn't we?"
    "There you go. You can bend the line. You can even move it a little sometimes. But you can't break it. Break it, and you're not us anymore. You're them. Dwier broke it, Baxter. That's my gut."
    She pushed off the desk, walked around the room. "You've used Trueheart a few times, right?"
    "A couple. Good kid. Fresh as a daisy yet, but eager."
    "If I brought him in on this, would you use him?"
    "I've got no problem dumping some . . ." He sat back, cleared his throat. "You asking me to train him?"
    "No, just . . . okay, yes. Sort of. You're second grade, so you qualify, and he could use somebody to work him, rub some of the dew off him without dulling the shine. Interested?"
    "Maybe. I'll take him on this one-contingency. We'll see how we fit."
    "Good." She started for the door, then stopped. "Baxter, why'd you transfer in from AntiCrime?"
    "Couldn't get close enough to you, honey." He winked suggestively, and when she just stared blandly, shrugged. "Got restless. Wanted Homicide. Never a dull moment."
    "You can say that again."
    "Never a-"
    "You're such a