In Death 23 - Born in Death

resistant, and so soft. Just feel.”
    Because it was obviously a requirement, Eve patted the chair. “Nice. Soft. Cushy. I’ll take it.”
    “You have to sit in it,” Tandy insisted.
    “I don’t—”
    “Go on, Dallas.” Peabody gave Eve a nudge. “Try it out. You have to.”
    “Jesus, all right, all right.” Feeling idiotic, Eve lowered to the chair, and felt it shift, just a bit, like a live thing. “It moved.”
    “The gel cushions mold to your shape.” Tandy beamed. “It’ll adjust to you, or you can program a preferred setting—manually, or by voice recognition. Positions, movements, all can be adjusted manually or by voice—controls are under both arm pads—for right- or left-hand use. Just flip it open with a finger.”
    Tandy demonstrated, revealing the board. “And there’s a new feature on the Delux model Mavis is loopy for. Baby sleeping, Mum’s tired?” Tandy tapped three buttons, and the chair hummed gently as its side opened and a small padded box lifted out and up.
    “You just shift, lay the baby in the chair-side cradle, and both of you can take a little nap.”
    “That is so completely uptown.” Peabody cooed again, like a mourning dove.
    “It’s safe for up to twenty pounds, will also rock independent of the chair. There’s also a small storage compartment on the other side, to hold burp cloths, nursing pads, extra receiving blankets. I swear, it’ll do everything but feed and change the baby for you.”
    “Okay.” With some relief, Eve pulled herself out of the chair.
    “It got top ratings from Baby Style, Parenting, and Today’s Family magazines. The Mommy Channel had it as their top pick last year.”
    “Sold.”
    “Really?” A happy flush pinked Tandy’s cheeks. “Oh, that’s brilliant. That’s mag.”
    “You can get it to the house, right, for the shower?”
    “Absolutely. And since I have some pull around here, I’ll arrange for the second delivery to Mavis’s apartment to be included. No extra charge.”
    “Appreciate it.” As an afterthought, Eve studied the chair again. “How much is this thing?”
    When Tandy named the price, Peabody gulped audibly. Eve just stared and said, “Holy crap.”
    “I know, it’s awfully dear, but it’s really worth the price. And I can offer you a ten percent discount on anything purchased today if you open a White Stork account.”
    “No, no thanks.” That, Eve thought as she rubbed her hands over her face, might just be tempting fate. “I’ll pay the full shot. The one in the colors Mavis likes.”
    “It’s a fully awesome gift, Dallas,” Peabody told her.
    “It is. It really is.” Tandy’s eyes actually went damp. “She’s so lucky to have a friend like you.”
    “Damn right.”
    It’s only money, Eve reminded herself as she completed the transaction. Only a whole shitload of money. While she reeled from sticker shock, Peabody and Tandy bubbled on about babies, the shower, baby gadgets. When they segued into breast-feeding, Eve drew her line.
    “We gotta go. Crime and stuff.”
    “I’m so glad you stopped in, and not just because of the sale. I just can’t wait until the shower on Saturday. My social life’s a little thin these days,” she added with an easy laugh. “Mavis’s baby shower is the highlight on my calendar. Except for this one’s birthday.” She patted her belly. “The rocker system will be delivered the day before, by noon. Any problems, any at all, just contact me here.”
    “Will do. Thanks, Tandy.”
    “See you soon!”
    It was with gratitude that Eve stepped out of the warm, scented, musical air and into the cold, windy noise of the city. “What time is it, Peabody?”
    “Ah, about thirteen-thirty.”
    “I want to go lie down in a dark room.”
    “Well…”
    “On duty, no rest for the traumatized. Soy fries will have to substitute for the comfort of oblivion.”
    “We eat?” Peabody nearly did a dance. “We should go shopping more often.”
    “Bite your tongue.”

4
    EVE WASN’T SURE WHAT IT SAID ABOUT HER that she was more comfortable in the morgue than in a baby boutique. And she didn’t actually care. The cold white walls, the scent of death under the piney odors of cleansers were the familiar.
    She pushed through the thick door into Autopsy as Morris, the chief medical examiner, transferred Bick Byson’s brain from his skull to a scale.
    “A two-for-one sale, I see.” Morris—his spiffy suit of the day protected with a clear plastic