Thankless in Death

gold paper.
    Gifts were always weird to her, so Eve ripped the paper off—like a bandage from a wound—to get it done fast. And looked down at a framed drawing of herself.
    She stood, eyes hard, weapon drawn, coat billowing. A little reminiscent, she thought, of an illustration in one of Roarke’s classic graphic novels—and just as frosty.
    “I drew it, but Richard helped.”
    “A little,” he confirmed.
    “A lot,” Nixie whispered.
    “It’s great. It’s really great. I look kick-ass.”
    Nixie giggled, slid her gaze toward her adoptive parents. “It’s an assignment. My therapist said for me to make a picture of the person I’m most thankful for this Thanksgiving. I thought about it a lot. Because I’m really thankful for Elizabeth and Richard and Kevin, but I wouldn’t have them to be thankful for except for you. I wrote an essay on the back. It’s part of the assignment, and the present.”
    “Oh.” Eve turned it over, saw it was a two-sided frame. And as she skimmed the careful writing, felt her throat close.
    “Would you read it?” Sinead asked, and looking up, Eve saw the movement had stopped, and everyone waited for her. “Would you read it to us, Eve?”

    “I …”
    “Why don’t I do that?” Understanding, Roarke took the frame.
    The person I’m most thankful for this Thanksgiving is Lieutenant Eve Dallas. She kept me safe when I was scared and I was sad. She took me to her house with Roarke and Summerset and Galahad so nobody could hurt me, not even the bad people who killed my family and my friend .
    She told me the truth. She promised me she would find the bad people and make sure they were punished. And Roarke said she would never stop until she did that. He told me the truth, too .
    She helped me find Richard and Elizabeth and Kevin. They’re not my mother, my father, and my brother. But they’re my family now, and I know it’s okay to love them. It doesn’t mean I don’t love my mom and dad and my brother .
    Dallas didn’t treat me like a baby. She told me I was a survivor, and that’s important. She worked hard, and she even got hurt, but she found the bad people, and she made sure they got punished .
    She told me the truth. She kept her promise. So she is the person I’m most thankful for this Thanksgiving. Nixie Swisher .
    “Well done, Nixie.” Roarke bent over to kiss her cheek. “Well done.”
    “It’s good?” she asked Eve.
    “It’s real good,” Eve managed. “I’m … ah. I’m going to put it in my office, at Central. And it’ll remind me to tell the truth and keep promises.”
    “Really?”

    “I said so, didn’t I?”
    Nixie threw her arms around Eve’s waist, then ran over to Elizabeth. “She liked it.”
    “Yes, she did.” Elizabeth sent Eve a watery smile, then pressed her face to Nixie’s hair.
    “That was lovely, absolutely lovely.” Sinead got to her feet. “And a perfect way to lead us to our feast, I’m thinking. Let’s get a move on. With this lot of us, it’ll take an hour just to settle.”
    “If I may?” Summerset offered Sinead his arm, gave Roarke the faintest nod before leading the horde out.
    “I need a minute,” Eve murmured.
    Roarke just drew her in, kissed the top of her head. “She’s a strong, graceful girl,” he said. “You helped her believe the world could be right again.”
    “She lost everything, and look at her. She has heart and, yeah, grace and goddamn spine. Then you look at Reinhold. And you wonder why. You’ll never have the answer, but you wonder.”
    Steadier, she drew back. “But Sinead’s right. Fine and good right now’s enough. You’d better grab onto that while you have it.”
    “And we do.”
    “We do. Let’s go eat ourselves sick.”
    “I’m for it.”
    She took a moment to walk over, set the frame, sketch side out on the mantel above the applewood fire, between the flickering candles.
    “I do look kick-ass.”
    “Darling Eve, you are kick-ass.”
    “You’re not wrong.”
    She took his hand, went with him to join the family, the friends, the feast. And was thankful for the now.

Don’t miss Eve and Roarke in their next case
    CONCEALED IN DEATH
    Between the wall he’d opened and the one barely a foot behind it lay two bundles wrapped in thick plastic. But he could see, clearly enough, what they were. Roarke took his jacket from Nina’s limp fingers, drew his ‘link out of the pocket. ‘Eve,’ he said when her face came on screen. ‘It seems I’m in need of a