In Death 23 - Born in Death

breast-feeding?”
    “I’d rather be stabbed in the eye with a burning stick. It’s going. You got any dish on a Walter Cavendish? Rich lawyer.”
    “No, but I can poke around.”
    “How about the Bullock Foundation?”
    “Huge. Donates mucho moolah, funds programs, gives grants. London-based with a worldwide reach and some off-planet interests. Headed now by Bullock’s widow and second wife, who enjoys the limelight, and her son, who’s rarely far from her side. Just what does the respected and generous Bullock Foundation have to do with two dead accountants?”
    “That’s the question.”
    Because she saw Peabody rushing over and knew she was about to be tossed back into Babyland, Eve grabbed a bellini for herself.
    “We have to do the games.” Peabody had a gleam in her eye that might have come from the bellinis, or the overdose of estrogen.
    “Go ahead,” Eve told her.
    “Nuh-uh! You have to run them. If I do it, I can’t play. I wanna play.”
    “Don’t look at me,” Nadine said when Eve turned to her.
    “Oh, hell. Fine, great. I’m on it.”
    She’d run ops, she ran a squad of detectives. She could handle a hundred women over a bunch of stupid games.
    They were insane, Eve discovered within the first fifteen minutes. The room was packed with women who were psychotic and certifiable. Screaming, shouting, laughing like mental patients over the race to decipher each rubric she held up.
    She wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t be forced to subdue a brunette who looked big enough to be carrying triplets.
    “Cradle Robber!” The woman screeched out.
    “Okay, good. You got it. Settle down.” Eve pressed a finger to her eyes, breathed, and prayed she’d make it through the next two rounds without becoming a gibbering idiot.
    At last she got a break as the victor insisted on being hauled to her feet to waddle over to inspect the prizes and select her spoils.
    “Dallas?” From her throne, Mavis reached up for Eve’s hand.
    “You need something? You okay?”
    “Yeah, I’m better than good. It’s just Tandy’s not here. I don’t know what could’ve happened. I tried her place, and her pocket ’link, but she’s not picking up. Maybe she went into labor, but I tried the birthing center, and she hasn’t checked in.”
    “Maybe she forgot.”
    “Just couldn’t. Last time I talked to her she was all about it. I’m kind of worried.”
    “Don’t be.” A worried Mavis could turn on a dime into a blubbering Mavis. “Listen, she was pretty close to popping, right? Maybe she was just too tired or whatever. She turned off her ’links and took a nap. Try her again later.”
    “Yeah, maybe. Sure, she’s fine. Just needed to rest. I hate that she’s missing it. It’s the ult party. Everything’s just frosty, and she was really looking forward to it.”
    When Mavis started to water up, Eve crouched beside her. “Hey, don’t get upset. We’ll, um, we’ll put some cake away for her. And one of the favor things.”
    “That’d be good. I’m never going to forget today, Dallas. Not if I live to be a zillion and five.”
    “Just relax and enjoy. I’ve got to start the next round.”
    Crazed game-playing females were slightly less scary than an emotionally wound-up, extremely knocked-up Mavis.
    She got through the games, and with Peabody happily volunteering to deliver the booty, the party shifted to the present portion of the program.
    Hoping to distance herself from the coos and squeals that broke out each time Mavis ripped at wrapping paper, Eve dropped into a chair across the room. Moments later, Mira joined her.
    “Quite a celebration.”
    “How do they stay so charged?” Eve wondered. “I was afraid I’d have to put on my riot gear.”
    “Babies, particularly when they’re so wanted, bring unparalleled joy. And for us, for women—whether or not we choose to have them—we know we’re the only ones capable of bringing them into the world. We’re the power.” She patted Eve’s hand. “You’ve done a lovely thing for your friend.”
    “I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull it off. Not sure I would have without Peabody cracking the whip. It’s been worth it.”
    “Like sixteen hours of labor?” Mira said with a smile.
    “Oh, God, why ? Why do they revel in talking about all that? It’s creepy.”
    “It’s the power, and the love. And each experience is unique, no matter how long the human race has propagated. It’s intimate and astonishing, and it binds us