In Death 28 - Promises in Death

fault him there, but Jesus, he’s going to complain to Whitney about how I’m doing my job. That’s weak. It’s fucking weak to go to command like that. You don’t have a strong squad if the helm’s weak.”
    Peabody sighed as she buttoned her shirt. “It’s going to be one of them, isn’t it?”
    “That’s my money. Maybe more than one of them.” Eve checked her wrist unit. “Callendar and Sisto should dock in about twelve hours. I put Webster’s report on your unit. Read it. Roarke’s got something, so I’m going to talk to him. Then maybe we’ll see if we can invite Alex Ricker down for some conversation.”
    “He’ll be neck-deep in lawyers.”
    “And won’t that be fun?”
    “Like a barrel of rabid monkeys. Oh, Nadine came by. She didn’t bring a crew,” Peabody said quickly. “It was a sympathy call. Genuine. She couldn’t stay, and you were busy, so she said she’d see you tomorrow.”
    “About what?”
    “Dallas. The shower’s tomorrow. Louise’s shower.”
    “Oh.” Crap. “Right.”
    “We’ll be by around two to set things up.”
    “What things?”
    “Stuff.”
    “If I can light a fire under . . .” Peabody’s face turned kicked-puppy pitiful. “All right, all right.” No point in pulling out her hair, Eve thought. Just no point. “You set up whatever, and let me know when it’s done. I can work until.”
    Maybe longer than until, Eve thought as she headed out, if Callendar came through. It was probably too much to hope for, but it helped to think she might be slapping restraints on Ricker’s contact instead of watching a bunch of women coo over some stupid shower present. Besides . . .
    “Oh shit, oh shit, stupid shower present!”
    Now she did pull her hair as she made the dash to her office.
    Roarke sat in her visitor’s chair, comfortably involved with his PPC. He glanced up, let loose a regretful sigh. “You changed. And I didn’t have any time to ogle you in uniform.”
    “I have to go shopping!”
    Staring at her, Roarke pressed his fingertips to his temple. “I’m sorry, I believe I must have had a small stroke. What did you say?”
    “This isn’t funny.” She bent down, gripped him by the lapels. “I forgot to get a thing for the thing, and I don’t even know what the thing is supposed to be. Now I have to go out and hunt something down. Except—” Her eyes went from slightly mad to speculative. “We have all kinds of things around the house. Couldn’t I just wrap something up and—”
    “No.”
    “Crap!”
    Roarke sat calmly while she dropped into her desk chair and buried her head in her hands. “Do I correctly interpret the thing for the thing as a gift for Louise’s bridal shower?”
    “What other thing is currently being shoved down my throat?”
    “Mmm-hmm. Give me a moment.” Eve muttered, but her head shot up when she heard him say, “Caro.”
    “Yes! Genius. Caro can get the thing.”
    “No,” Roarke said it firmly and had Eve slumping again. “Caro,” he repeated. “If you were hostessing a bridal shower for a good friend, what would be the appropriate sort of gift?”
    Eve swiveled so she could bang her head on the desk. Roarke and Caro talked—questions, answers—but she didn’t take it in. They might have been speaking Greek.
    “Thanks. Something’s come up here, so I’ll likely be working from home later. Let me know if you need me for anything. Have a nice weekend.”
    He clicked off, and Eve opened one eye to peer at him. “What did—”
    He held up a finger, and continued to work on the PPC. “All right then,” he said after a moment. “Caro believes, given your relationship and the occasion, you should get Louise something both personal and romantic.”
    “What, a sex toy?”
    “No. Not exactly,” he amended. “Lingerie. A nightgown, or as she delicately put it, an ensemble.”
    Eve straightened. “I’m supposed to buy Louise fuckwear?”
    “Which is how to indelicately put it.”
    “I can’t do that. It’s . . . Even if I wanted to, which—who would—I don’t know her size or anything.”
    “I do. I just hacked into her account and have all her sizes. Now, I’m afraid you’re going to have to go into an actual store as you’ve left this too late to purchase anything appropriate online.”
    “Oh God. Just kill me.”
    “Don’t worry. I know just the place.”
    “Of course you do. I wanted to pick up Alex Ricker, sweat him in the box for a while.”
    “I thought you