In Death 24 - Innocent in Death

you seen her since you got back?”
    “No. Is she asking for tats and belly rings already?”
    “Come on. She is so seriously adorable. She’s got Leonardo’s eyes and Mavis’s mouth, and-”
    “God help us if she inherits their fashion sense along with it.”
    “She smiles at me, every time I pick her up.” Above her scarf, under her watch cap, Peabody’s eyes went to brown goo. “People say that’s gas, but she smiles at me. She’s getting so big, and she’s…”
    While Peabody rhapsodized about Mavis’s infant daughter, Eve listened to the music of New York. The blasting horns, the arguments, the rumbling ad blimps from overhead.
    Through them were the voices, a rat-a-tat of conversations, a litany of complaints.
    “So, what are you going to take her?”
    “What? Taking what? Where?”
    “To Belle, Dallas, when you go to see her. The gift?”
    “What gift?” Seriously stymied, Eve stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “Why do I have to take a gift?”
    “Because.”
    “Why? Didn’t I do the shower thing, with gifts, then the hospital thing?”
    “Yes, but when you go to visit the baby at home for the first time, it’s traditional to-”
    22
     
    “Who makes this up?” Seriously aggrieved, Eve jabbed a finger into the marshmallow puffiness of Peabody’s winter coat. “I demand to know who makes these rules. It’s madness. Tell me who it is, and I’ll have them committed for psychiatric evaluation.”
    “Aw, Dallas, you just need to bring her a little teddy bear or a pretty rattle. It’s fun shopping for baby stuff.”
    “My ass. You know what’s fun?” Eve hauled open the door of the office building.
    “Finding out who poisoned some poor slob of a history teacher. That’s my idea of fun.
    Any more talk about shopping, gifts, babies, gooey cards, or Valentine’s Day, my boot’s going so far up your ass you’ll think the toe’s your tongue.”
    “A week at the beach sure sweetened your mood. Sir,” Peabody muttered when Eve’s look fried off the top layers of her skin.
    Eve turned on her heel toward the security station, and badged the guard. “Lissette Foster.”
    “Just a minute, please.” He ran the badge number, the ID ploddingly, thoroughly. “Yes, sir, you’re cleared. Lissette Foster…Foster, Foster. Here we go. She’s with Blackburn Publishing. Editorial. Uh…that’s on the ninth floor. Bank of elevators to your right. Have a productive day.”
    “Yeah, you bet. Native of Martinique,” Eve began as they stepped into an elevator to be assaulted with quiet, mind-melting music. “Student visa, most like, work visa maybe.
    She’d get her green card by marrying a U.S. citizen. And keep her status here as his widow.”
    “Easier ways to get a green card.”
    “Sure. But maybe things weren’t working, and divorce within two years cancels out the green. Maybe there was more going on in those Wednesday night sessions with Hallywell than studying. You got a job here, you want a life here. Killing to keep it isn’t a stretch.”
    They stepped off into a small reception area where a woman sat behind a white counter.
    She wore a headset and a big, welcoming smile.
    “Good afternoon!” she said, so enthusiastically that Eve’s eyes slitted. “Welcome to Blackburn Publishing. How may I help you today?”
    “Lissette Foster.”
    “Of course. I can certainly find out if Ms. Foster’s free. May I say who’s here to see her, and the nature of your business?”
     
    23
    Eve simply took out her badge again. “We’ll explain all that to Ms. Foster.”
    “Oh.” The woman’s eyes bugged as she stared at the badge. “Oh, my. Excuse me.” She swiveled around, spoke into the mouthpiece of her headset in a hissing whisper. “Lissette Foster.” Clearing her throat, she darted a glance back at Eve. “Lissette, there’s someone here in Reception to see you. It’s apolice officer. I don’t know. I really don’t. Okay.”
    With her smile strained at the edges, the woman turned back to Eve. “She’ll be right here.
    If you’d like to sit-”
    “We’re fine.”
    By the time Eve had unwrapped her scarf, a woman was striding out on ice-pick heels.
    Those alone indicated some level of insanity to Eve. The heels were cherry red, the pencil-slim suit stone gray. Inside it was an excellent body.
    Lissette Foster had luminous skin, heavy-lidded, and currently annoyed, nut-brown eyes.
    Her hair was nearly the same shade and worn ruler-straight to brush her