In Death 31 - Indulgence in Death

hanging from bars, swinging on poles like a freckle-faced monkey.
    Eve supposed it was a solid endorsement.
    Before long, Sinead and more of the family who came along set up food on picnic tables where dogs were shooed away.
    When Sinead walked over to sit on the lip of the fountain, Roarke followed, sat beside her. She took his hand, sat for a moment in silence.
    “It’s good to know my grandchildren and those that come after will play here, and laugh and fight and run. It’s good something lasting and kind can come out of the sorrow and loss. Your wife knows your heart, and that makes you a rich man.”
    “It does. You put in a great deal of time on this.”
    “Oh, I’ve some to spare, and it was a gift to me, too. To my brothers, to all of us. Our mother cried when I told her what Eve wanted to do. Good tears. All of us shed too many sorrowful ones for Siobhan, so good tears wash clean. Your woman knows death and sorrow. They sit on her, move in her, and have made her sensitive.” She glanced at him. “She has a gift, a touch of sight that doesn’t come through the eyes, but the heart and the belly.”
    “She’d call it instinct, training, cop sense.”
    “Hardly matters what it’s called, does it? Ah now, look here.” She laughed, drew him to his feet. “Here’s a friend come to play with you.”
    Puzzled, he looked around. Grinned. “Well, it’s Brian, come from Dublin.”
    “I thought you’d enjoy a childhood friend on such a day. Go on then, as it looks as if he’s making time with your wife.”
    Brian Kelly’s grin stretched across his wide, ruddy face as he pulled Eve into a hug. “Ah, Lieutenant darling.” He crushed an enthusiastic kiss to her mouth. “The minute you’re ready to toss Roarke aside, I’ll be there.”
    “Always good to have backup.”
    He barked out a laugh, then draped an arm over her shoulders as Roarke strode toward them. “I’ll fight you for her. And fight dirty.”
    “Who could blame you?”
    He chuckled, releasing Eve to give Roarke the same greeting—a crushing hug and kiss. “You always were a lucky bastard.”
    “It’s good to see you, Brian.”
    “Your aunt was kind enough to ask me.” He eased back to look around the pretty little park. “Well, isn’t this a thing now. Isn’t this a fine thing?”
    Eve looked down when Sean tugged on her hand. “What?”
    “The dogs’ve run off in the woods over there.”
    “Okay.”
    “They won’t come back when I call, just go on barking.”
    “And?”
    He rolled his eyes at her. “Well, you’re a detective, aren’t you? I’m not allowed to go in on my own, so you’ll have to come with me to find them.”
    “I will?”
    “Aye, of course,” he said matter-of-factly. “They might’ve found something. Like a treasure, or a clue to a mystery.”
    “Or a squirrel.”
    He gazed at her darkly. “You can’t know until you know.”
    Brian spoke up. “I could use a bit of a walk to stretch my legs after the drive from Dublin. I could use some treasure as well.”
    Sean beamed at Brian. “We’ll go then, but she has to come. She’d be in charge as she’s a lieutenant.”
    “Fair enough. Up for a bit of search and rescue?” he asked Roarke.
    “I’ll show you the way!” The boy raced ahead.
    “Come on, Lieutenant.” Roarke took her hand. “You’re in charge. How are things at the pub, Brian?”
    “Oh, much the same. I pull the pints, listen to the gossip and the woes.” He winked over Eve’s head at his friend. “It’s the quiet life for me now.”
    “How do you say bullshit in Irish?” Eve wondered.
    “Now, Lieutenant darling, I’m a reformed man since this one led me onto the wayward path in my youth. You come to Dublin again soon, see for yourself. I’ll stand you both to all you can drink.”
    They walked easily, though the boy raced back and forth urging them to hurry. Eve heard the dogs now, high, excited, insistent barking.
    “Why are dogs always running off to find something to sniff at, pee on, or chase?”
    “Every day’s a holiday when you’re a dog,” Brian observed. “Especially when there’s a boy in the mix.”
    When they reached the verge of the trees she resigned herself to tromping through nature—a dangerous bitch in her opinion.
    Moss grew green on rock and tree with sunlight filtering with a greenish hue through the leaves. Gnarled branches twisted themselves into strange shapes as they rose up or spread out.
    “Mind the faeries,” Brian said