In Death 16 - Portrait in Death

well."
     
     
"We're lucky it is." Louise touched her arm as she turned to Roarke. "I stole Moira for us from Carnegie Health Center. Their loss is very much our gain."
     
     
"I think it was the right choice, all around," Moira commented. "This is a fine thing you've done with this place, Roarke. It's the finest of its kind I've seen, and I'm pleased to be a part of it."
     
     
"High praise from Moira," Louise said with a laugh. "She's a very tough sell."
     
     
"No point in saying what you don't mean. Have you seen the roof garden as yet?"
     
     
"I was hoping I'd have time to take him up." Wincing, Louise glanced at her wrist unit. "But I'm running behind. You really should take a look before you go, Roarke."
     
     
"I'd be pleased to show you," Moira said. "Would you mind if we use the elevator? There are a number of groups and classes in session on the upper levels. The sight of you might make some of the residents uneasy."
     
     
"That's fine."
     
     
"You're in good and capable hands." Louise rose to her toes to kiss Roarke's cheek. "Give my best to Dallas. I'll drop by and see Summerset the very first chance I get."
     
     
"He'll look forward to it."
     
     
"Thanks, Moira. I'll see you in a few days. If you need anything-"
     
     
"Yes, yes, go on now. Not to worry." She shooed Louise, then gestured. "She never walks when she can run," Moira added as Louise dashed toward the doors. "A bundle of energy and dedication, all wrapped up in brains and heart. Thirty minutes with her, and I was agreeing to resigning my position at the center and taking one here-and at quite a significant cut in salary."
     
     
"A difficult woman to resist."
     
     
"Oh aye. And you're married to one I'm told." She led the way through another living area and to a narrow elevator. "A woman of energy and dedication."
     
     
"I am."
     
     
"I've seen the two of you on the news reports, from time to time. Or read of you." She stepped inside. "Roof please," she ordered. "Do you get back to Dublin often?"
     
     
"Occasionally." He knew when he was being studied and measured, and so studied and measured in turn. "I have some business interests there."
     
     
"And no personal ones?"
     
     
He met those eyes, those clever eyes, straight on. He also knew when he was being pumped. "A friend or two. But I've a friend or two in a number of places, and no more ties to Dublin than anywhere else."
     
     
"My father was a solicitor there, and my mother a doctor. Both still are, come to that. But life gets so busy, I'm lucky to get back every second year for a few weeks. It's come back well from the Urban Wars."
     
     
"For the most part." He had a flash of the tenements where he'd grown up. The war hadn't been kind to them.
     
     
"And here we are." She stepped out when the doors opened. "Isn't this something? A little bit of country, high up here in the middle of the city."
     
     
He saw the dwarf trees, the flowering beds, the tidy squares of vegetables with straight paths lined between. A faint mist from the perpetual sprinkler system kept everything lush and watered in the blazing heat.
     
     
"It's something they could plant and that they can maintain themselves. For pleasure, for practicality, for beauty." There was a quietness about her now, as if the gardens brought her peace. "We work here early mornings and evenings when it's a bit cooler. I like to get my hands in the dirt, always did. Still, I swear to you, all these years, I've never got used to the bloody heat of this place."
     
     
"Louise mentioned something about a garden." Impressed, intrigued, he walked through. "I had no idea she meant something like this. It's beautiful. And it says something, doesn't it?"
     
     
"What does it say?"
     
     
He ran his fingers over the glossy leaves of some flowering vine. "You beat the hell out of me, you kicked me down. But I got back up, didn't I? I got back up and I planted flowers. So bugger you," he murmured, then shook himself back. "Sorry."
     
     
"No need." A faint smile ghosted around her mouth. "I thought pretty much the same myself. I think Louise might be right about you, with all her praise."
     
     
"She's prejudiced. I give her a great deal of money. I appreciate you showing me this, Ms. O'Bannion. I hate to leave it, but I've other appointments."
     
     
"You must be the busiest of men. Not what I expected altogether, to see the powerful Roarke charmed by a rooftop garden. A plot of wax beans and