In Death 30 - Fantasy in Death

buckets of this adds to it. I need to steal Dallas for a minute.” She laid a hand on Roarke’s arm. “I won’t keep her long.”
    “You’re not going to introduce me to a bunch of people I have to make conversation with—because that’s the problem with parties. You have to get dressed up then talk to a bunch of people you’ll probably never see again and you don’t care about their opinions or life stories anyway.”
    “You’re such a social butterfly, Dallas. I don’t know how you get any work done.” Nadine kept a hand on Eve’s arm, steering her through.
    Like a dance, Eve thought. Not like whatever Peabody and McNab were doing, which looked more like sexual calisthenics, but a kind of gliding ballet. A pause here for a word, a gesture there to acknowledge someone, a turn, a laugh, all while moving without any visible hurry.
    They passed an enormous display of the cover of the book. On a background of icy blue, interlocking faces stared out. The same face over and over—female and striking, with a small, secret smile.
    They shimmered against the ice, while those eyes seemed to glow with some inner life.
    “It’s creepy, and compelling,” Eve decided.
    “Exactly.”
    “You didn’t use Avril, or any of the others we identified as clones.”
    “No. It didn’t seem fair. Some of them were still children. They deserve a chance at some sort of normal life. Or at least a private one. You let Diana, the one from the school, go.”
    “She escaped during the confusion.”
    “That’s the way I wrote it. But that’s not what happened. I hope I would’ve done the same.” She slid her hand down Eve’s arm to link their fingers in a kind of silent solidarity. “In writing the book . . . I hope I would’ve done the human thing when given the choice. There’s a room for me inside here,” she continued, going through the glass doors. “For interviews, and in case I want to catch my breath.”
    She opened the door of a small lounge, filled with flowers. A bottle of champagne sat waiting in a silver bucket beside a tray of glossy fruit.
    “Nice,” Eve observed.
    “Louise and Charles sent champagne, and flowers. And the publisher . . . They’re treating me like a star. I hope I don’t disappoint them.”
    “Knock it off.”
    Nadine waved a hand. “The book’s good. Damn good—you’re right about that. And I know what I’m doing when it comes to promotion. But you can never be sure what the public’s going to like, or not. So, we’ll see. Whatever, I accomplished something I’m proud of. So . . .”
    Nadine walked over to a counter and picked up a copy of the book. “I want you to have this. You have an actual library, so I wanted you to have a print copy rather than the e.”
    “I’m pretty sick of all things e at the moment.”
    “I imagine you are. Anyway, seeing as Roarke has a liking for physical books, I thought I might find my way into your library.”
    “Guaranteed. Thanks. Really.”
    “You don’t have to cart it around all night. I’ll have it sent, but I wanted to give it to you personally.”
    Eve turned it over, studied the photo of Nadine in one of her sharp suits with the New York skyline behind her.
    “Sexy and capable. It says ‘I cover New York, and nothing gets by me.’”
    Nadine laughed. “That was the general idea. There’s another addition to the version you read.” Nadine took the book back, opened it to the dedication page. “Here.”
    Eve read:
For Lieutenant Eve Dallas,
courageous, relentless, insightful,
who honors her badge every day as
she stands for the living and the dead.
    “Well. Wow.” Flustered, touched, and mildly embarrassed, Eve looked up at Nadine. “I’m . . . thanks. I’m just doing my job.”
    “Me, too. We’re damn good at what we do, Dallas, you and me. And we’re damn good not just because we have the chops, but because it matters. It matters to us, every day. What the Icoves did was obscene, and that story needs to be told. The book matters to me, and what’s in it mattered to you. You risked your life for it.”
    “So did others. I didn’t stop them alone.”
    “There’s a lengthy acknowledgments page. Read it at your leisure,” Nadine added with a smile. “Take the book, and the sentiment.”
    “I will. I do.” Eve narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t like a box of cookies, is it?”
    On another laugh, Nadine fluttered her lashes. “A bribe? From me? What a thing to say. Here.” She poured two glasses of