In Death 30 - Fantasy in Death

hits this week.”
    “Exactly. And when were you going to remind me about this party deal tomorrow night?”
    “Tomorrow.” He smiled, sipped his beer. “Giving you less time to fuss and fret about having to go to a party when you’re deep into a case.”
    “I don’t fuss and fret.”
    “No, you bitch and complain, but it’s such a nice evening I used code.”
    She eyed him over a swig of beer. There was no point in denying what was truth. “I suppose you’ve already decided what I’m wearing.”
    “There would be suitable attire earmarked, though naturally you might decide you’d prefer something else.” He brushed his hand lightly over the top of hers. “You could always go through your closet tonight and give it some thought.”
    “Yeah, that’s going to happen. I have to go. I mean, if the case breaks I can work around it and put in an appearance.”
    “If the case breaks, assuming you’re right about it being one of the three, you’d hardly be facing down a career criminal or fighting for your life. At the core of it, they’re still geeks.”
    “One or more of them killed a fellow geek in a really creative and ugly way,” she reminded him. “But yeah, I think I can handle him, her, or them.”
    “So tell me why you have to go, which is not your default statement when it comes to events like this.”
    She blew out a breath as the pizza landed in front of them. “Because I meant it when I said Nadine was whacked. She’s got herself all wound up, wrapped up, twisted up about the book thing. How maybe it sucks and all that. Lack of confidence isn’t what you call her default setting either.”
    “She put a lot into it, and it’s, for her, a new area.”
    “I get it.” Eve shrugged with another sip of beer. “So I’ve got to at least show my face, do the moral support deal. Which is one of the annoyances of friendships.”
    “There’s my girl.”
    She laughed, picked up a slice, then took a bite. Closed her eyes. She could see herself, with absolute clarity, taking that first long-ago bite by the window while New York and all its possibilities rushed, pushed, and bitched along on the other side of the glass.
    She opened them, smiled into the eyes of her friend, her lover, her partner. “It’s still damn good pizza.”
    He’d been right, she thought as they walked outside again. The hour had cleared her head, settled her mood, geared her up for the next steps and stages.
    “I want to go by U-Play before we head uptown.”
    “It would be closed by this time,” he said, as his fingers linked with hers. “I can certainly get you in if you’re after a bit of B&E.”
    “Nobody’s breaking and entering. I don’t want to go in anyway.”
    “Then?”
    “I figure it’s closed, sure, but I wonder if it’s empty.”
    He indulged her, wound his way through traffic and farther downtown. The summer light lengthened the day, spun it out and gilded it. The heat of the day had given way, just a little, just enough, to a few fitful breezes.
    Both tourists and those who made their home in the city took advantage, filling street and sidewalk with a throng of bare legs, bare arms. She watched a woman, blond hair flying, race along, long tanned legs scissoring with pretty feet balanced on towering needle heels.
    “How do they do that?” She pointed to the blond as she watched her lope along. “How do women, or the occasional talented tranny or cross-dresser—walk on streets like this in those heels, much less run like a gazelle across . . . whatever gazelles run across.”
    “I imagine it’s the result of considerable practice, perhaps even for the gazelle.”
    “And if they didn’t? If women, trannies, and cross-dressers everywhere revolted and said, screw this, we’re not wearing these ankle-breaking stilts anymore—and they didn’t—wouldn’t the sadists who design those bastards have to throw in the towel?”
    “I’m sorry to tell you, your women, trannies, and cross-dressers will never revolt. Many of them actually appear to like the style and the lift.”
    “You just like them because they make the ass jiggle.”
    “Absolutely guilty.”
    “Men still rule the world. I don’t get it.”
    “No comment as any would be misconstrued. Well, you were right about this.” He eased onto the edge of the warehouse lot. “Closed, no doubt, but not empty.”
    She studied the faint glow of light against the glass, imagined the way the sun would slant through the windows this