In Death 19 - Visions in Death

of yourself, which is a pretty short walk, really."
    "You -he--" He paced down the hall and back again.
    "Why?" "Because we were friends, and because I was boinking you, moron." "But we broke up because . . ." "Because, instead of asking what was going on, you accused and you ordered, and took that short walk to Assville." "And you tell me now, a minute before we walk in his door." "Yeah." "That's cold, Peabody." "Yeah." She patted his cheek. "I wait for payback, and I deliver. You were a jerk coming over here toasted and punching him, but I like that part. Which is why I was magnanimous enough to forgive you for sleeping with the twins." "I didn't." He tapped a finger on her nose. "Gotcha." "You didn't?" "I was going to, and I could have because we were on the breakup shuttle. But I didn't want the twins." "You bragged about it." "Hey, I've got a dick. Man's got a dick, he's gotta have pride in it." "You are a dick," she said, but with a sloppy grin. "Now I forgive you for thinking I was bouncing back and forth between you and Charles like some sex bunny." "She-body, you're my little sex bunny." "Aw." She flung her arms around him to exchange the sloppy grin for a big, sloppy kiss.
    The elevator doors opened behind them. "Oh God! There goes my appetite." "Dallas." Peabody sent a dreamy look over McNab's shoulder. "We're making up."
    "Next time make up in a dark, locked room. McNab, your hands are in violation of several civil codes." "Whoops." Still, he gave Peabody's butt a final squeeze.
    "You start on the transit discs?" "Eve." Roarke laid a hand on her shoulder, aimed her toward Charles's apartment. "Let's at least try to make it through the door before you grill the detectives. Peabody, you look charming." "Thanks. This is going to be fun." They answered together, Charles Monroe, the urbane LC, and Louise Dimatto, the blue-blooded doctor dedicated to the downtrodden. Eve had to admit, they looked good together. He with his handsome vid king looks, and she with her polished-gold beauty.
    It didn't mean she didn't consider it one of the oddest couplings of her acquaintance, but they looked good together.
    "Everyone at once." Louise laughed and reached for Eve, the closest. "Come in. It's so good to see everybody when none of us is working." She kissed Eve's cheek, then made a fuss over the flowers Peabody offered.
    "Lieutenant Sugar." Charles went for the hello kiss as well, but he aimed for the mouth. There was a twinkle in his eye shot in McNab's direction, as he gave Peabody the same greeting.
    It was going to be, Eve decided, a really weird evening.
    The wine Roarke brought was welcomed, and opened.
    Conversation, Eve realized after ten minutes, wasn't stilted or sparse. Everyone appeared to be in a party mood. She'd just have to tuck the case into another area of the brain and get into the personal game for a few hours.
    There was Louise, looking happy and picture pretty perched on the arm of Charles's chair, and wearing the casual gear of a dark pink sweater and black pants. Bare feet with pink toenails. And to Eve's considerable surprise, a little gold toe ring.
    Charles kept touching her in that absent and intimate way a man touched a woman who was his focus. A brush on the arm, a stroke on the knee.
    Didn't she wonder about the women who paid him to touch them and a hell of a lot more? Apparently not, Eve decided, by the gooey looks they sent each other every five minutes.
    And there were McNab and Peabody, snuggled together on the cushy leather couch laughing and talking without any sign of awkwardness. Just one big happy family.
    As a trained observer, she could safely say she was the only one weirded out.
    Even as she thought it, Roarke leaned toward her, laid his lips close to her ear. "Relax." "Working on it," she mumbled.
    "Louise has been fussing half the day," Charles commented.
    "I have." Louise shook back her cloud of hair. "It's the first time we've entertained friends together. And I like to fuss." Fussing, Eve concluded, ran to putting small arrangements of color-coordinated flowers in little clear vases and positioning them in strategic spots throughout the apartment, and marrying the flowers with lots of white candles in different shapes and sizes so the light was subtle and gold.
    She'd probably selected the background music, too.
    Something muted and bluesy that suited the lighting. The table was already set with lots of candles and flowers there, too. And glassware that glinted.
    Put it