In Death 22 - Memory in Death

like iron. “You just sit down here. I’ve got a handkerchief. I think.” He began patting his pockets, digging into them with that vague and baffled expression.
    It settled her more than a soother. She laughed, rubbed her face dry. “That’s okay. I’m fine. I’m sorry.
    I really need to”
    “Have some wine,” Mira said, and crossed the room with a tray.
    As it was obvious she’d seen the outburst, Eve’s embarrassment only increased.
    “I’m a little off, that’s all.”
    “Hardly a wonder.” Mira set the tray down, picked up one of the glasses. “Sit down and relax. I’d like to open my present, if that’s all right.”
    “Oh. Yeah. Sure. Um …” She picked up Dennis’s gift. “I came across this, thought you might be able to use it.”
    He beamed like a ten-year-old who’d just found a shiny red airbike under the tree. And the twinkle didn’t fade when he drew out the scarf. “Look at this, Charlie. This ought to keep me warm when I take my walks.”
    “And it looks just like you. And, oh! Look at this.” Mira lifted out the antique teapot. “It’sgorgeous.Violets,” she murmured, tracing a finger over the tiny painted flowers that twined around the white
    china pot. “I love violets.”
    She actually cooed over it, Eve realized, as some women tended to do over small, drooling babies.
    “I figured you’re into tea, so”
    “I love it. I absolutely love it.” Mira rose, rushed over and kissed Eve on both cheeks. “Thank you.”
    “No problem.”
    “I think I’m going to try my gift out right now, have myself a little walk.” Dennis rose. He walked over, bent down to Eve, tapped her chin. “You’re a good girl and a smart woman. Talk to Charlie.”
    “I didn’t mean to run him off,” Eve said after Dennis left the room.
    “You didn’t. Dennis is as astute as he is absentminded, and he knew we needed a little time alone. Will you open your gift?” She took a box from the tray, held it out to Eve.
    “It’s pretty.” She never knew the right thing to say, but that seemed appropriate when holding a box wrapped in silver and gold and topped by a big red bow.
    She wasn’t sure what it wassomething round, with open scrollwork and small glittering stones. As it
    was on a chain her first thought was that it was some sort of necklace, though the disk was wider than
    her palm.
    “Relax,” Mira said with a laugh. “It’s not jewelry. No one could compete with Roarke in that area. It’s a kind of sun catcher, something you might hang at the window. In your office, I thought.”
    “It’s pretty,” Eve said again, and looking closer, made out a pattern in the scrollwork. “Celtic? Sort of
    like what’sonmy wedding ring.”
    “Yes. Though my daughter tells me the symbol on your ring is for protection. This one, and the stones with it, are to promote peace of mind. It’s been blessedI hope you’re all right with thatby my daughter.”
    “Tell her I appreciate it. Thanks. I’ll hang it in my office window. Maybe it’ll work.”
    “You don’t catch much of a break, do you?” Roarke had filled Mira in on the afternoon’s work.
    “I don’t know.” She studied the disk, ran her thumb over it. “I guess I was feeling sorry for myself, before, when Dennis put his arm around me. Standing there with him, looking at the tree, the way he is, the way the house smells, and the lights. I thought, I just thought if oncejust onceI’d had someone like him … Just once. Well, I didn’t. That’s all.”
    “No, you didn’t, and that shame lies in the system. Not in you.”
    Eve lifted her gaze, steadied herself again. “Wherever, it’s the way it was. Now Trudy Lombard’s dead, and she shouldn’t be. I had to have my partner interview my husband. I have to be prepared to answer personal questions, put those answers on record if they apply to the investigation. I have to remember what it was like with her, because knowing her helps me know her killer. I have to do that when, a few days ago, if you’d asked me, I could barely remember her name. I can do that,” Eve said, fiercely now. “I’m good at pushing it out, shoving it down. And Ihatewhen it jumps up and kicks me in the face. Because she’s nothing, nothing to who I am now.”
    “Of course, she is. Everyone who touched your life had a part in forming it.” Mira’s voice was as soft as the music that wafted through the air, and as implacable as iron. “You overcame people like her. You didn’t have a