Memory in Death (In Death 22)

* * *

Because she pulled rank and ordered Peabody home, straightening out the mugging mess kept her at Central until after shift. Dark had the temperatures dropping, and the incessant drizzle turned into sleet. The now tricky streets turned the drive home into a marathon of annoyance.

Stuck in it, she sipped on ice water to soothe her sore tongue, and let her mind drift. She was a handful of blocks from home when it drifted to Trudy Lombard, and the light went off.

“Not me. Jesus, it’s not about me. Why would it be? Damn it, damn it, damn it.”

She flicked on sirens, shot into vertical. Cursing herself and the snarls that made the maneuver all but suicidal, she engaged her dash link.

“Roarke,” she snapped when Summerset came on. “Is he there yet? Put him on.”

“He’s just come through the gates, hasn’t yet reached the house. If there’s an emergency—”

“Tell him I’ll be there in ten. I need to talk to him. If anyone named Lombard contacts the house, don’t put her through to him. You got that? Don’t put her through.”

She flicked off, whipped her wheel, and nipped back down to the street to narrowly miss a trio offenders.

Son of a bitch! What else would she be after but money? Big, shiny piles of it. And who in the known universe had the biggest piles?

She wasn’t getting away with it. And if he even thought of paying her off to make her go away, Eve vowed she’d personally skin him.

She fishtailed, and roared through the gates of home. Roarke opened the door himself as she braked in front of the house.

“Am I under arrest?” he called out, and circled a ringer in the air. “Sirens, Lieutenant.”

She called them off, slammed the door. “I’m so stupid! I’m a goddamn idiot.”

“If you’re going to talk that way about the woman I love, I’m not going to offer you a drink.”

“It’s you. It was never me. If I hadn’t let her turn me inside out, I’d‘ve known it from the get. Lombard.”

“All right. And what’s this?” He skimmed a finger gently over the faint bruise on her jaw.

“Nothing.” Anger had smothered any lingering pain. “Are you listening to me? I know her. I know the type. She doesn’t do anything without a purpose. Maybe the purpose is jollies, but she didn’t go to all the trouble and expense to come here just to bust my balls. It’s about you.”

“You need to calm down. In the parlor.” He took her arm. “There’s a nice fire. You’ll have some wine.”

“Will you stop.” She slapped his hand off, but he simply shifted and tugged off her wet coat.

“Take a minute, catch your breath,” he advised. “You may not be wanting a drink, but I am. Filthy weather.”

She did take a breath, pressed her hands to her face to steady herself. “I couldn’t think, that was the trouble. Didn’t think. Just reacted. And I know better. She must’ve figured she’d come see me, try to play the reunion card. I was just a kid, and messed up with it. So maybe she banked that I didn’t remember what it had been like with her. Then she can be the long-lost mother, angel of mercy, whatever, grease those wheels so

when she tapped me for money, I’d ask you to give it to her.”

“Underestimated you. Here.” He handed her a glass of wine.

“Backup plan.” She took the wine, paced to the hearth with its snapping fire, back again. “Someone like her has one. I’m not receptive, she’ll have a way to go straight to the source. Right to you. Try for sympathy, some hard-luck story. Move to threats if that doesn’t shake the money tree. She’d want a nice fat lump sum, come back for more later, but get a juicy bite right off…”

She took a moment to study his face. “And none of this is news to you.”

“As you said, you’d have come to it yourself right away if you hadn’t been so twisted up.” He lowered his head enough to brush his lips over her jaw. “Come, sit by the fire.”

“Wait, wait.” She grabbed his sleeve. “You didn’t go warn her off. You didn’t go see her.”

“I had and have no intention of going to her. Unless she continues to harass and upset you. Do you know she had eleven other children put in her care over the years? I wonder how many of them she tormented as she did you.”

“You ran her? Of course you ran her.” She turned away. “I’m really slow on this one.”