Born in Death (In Death 23)

“Scared shitless, aren’t you?”

He glanced in the direction of the restrooms, then back at Eve. “I’m terrified. I could pass out. What if I pass out?”

“Make sure you don’t land on me,” Roarke told him.

“Mavis isn’t nervous. Not even a little bit. And the closer we get, the more my insides…” He lifted his big hands, shook them. “I don’t know what I’d do if the two of you weren’t going to be there. Backing me up.”

Oh, hell, Eve thought, and exchanged a glance with Roarke. “Where else would we be?” She signaled the waiter for another glass of wine.

Two hours later, after dropping Leonardo and Mavis home, Roarke drove south and east toward Tandy’s apartment building.

“Really, I can take the tube. Subway. It’s too much trouble, and only a few blocks.”

“If it’s only a few blocks,” Roarke said, “it’s hardly any trouble.”

“How can I argue?” Tandy let out a laugh. “And it’s so nice to sit in a warm car. It’s so bloody cold out there tonight.” She settled back with a sigh. “I feel pampered, and fat as a whale. Mavis and Leonardo, they’re the best. You can’t be around either of them for five minutes and not feel happy. And I see they’re lucky in their friends. Oops.”

Eve’s head spun around so fast it might have flown off her shoulders. “No oops. No oopsing.”

“He’s just bumping around in there a bit. Not to worry. Oh, you know, Mavis is just giddy about the baby shower you’re hosting for her next week. She bubbles over it.”

“Baby shower. Right. Next week.”

“Here we are. Just down the middle of this block. Thank you both so much.” Tandy adjusted her scarf, hauled up a purse the size of a suitcase. “For the lovely food and company, and the luxurious ride. I’ll see you both on Saturday, at the baby shower.”

“Need any help, ah…”

“No, no.” Tandy waved Eve off. “Even a whale must fend for itself. And even if I can’t see my feet these days, I remember where they are. Good night now, and thanks again.”

Roarke waited, engine idling, until Tandy had keyed herself into the building. “Seems a nice woman. Stable and sensible.”

“Not like Mavis. Except for the whale factor. Gotta be tough, being knocked up, on your own, and not even in your own country. She seems to be dealing. You know, Roarke, how come just because you’re pals you have to go to coaching classes, witness births, and give baby showers?”

“I don’t have the answer to that question.”

She heaved out a breath. “Neither do I.”

Eve was dreaming of fang-toothed, many-armed babies bouncing out of Mavis to tear around the room, sending the midwife into screaming retreat while Mavis cooed: Aren’t they mag? Aren’t they the ult?

The signal of the bedside ’link had her popping out of the dream. She shuddered once.

“Block video,” she ordered. “Lights on ten percent. Dallas.”

Dispatch, Dallas, Lieutenant Eve. See the officers at 51 Jane Street, apartment 3B. Possible homicide.

“Acknowledged. Contact Peabody, Detective Delia. I’m on my way.”

Acknowledged. Dispatch out.

Eve glanced over, saw Roarke’s laser blue eyes were open and on hers. “Sorry,” she said.

“I’m not the one being pulled out of a warm bed at four in the morning.”

“You’re right about that. People ought to have the courtesy to off each other at reasonable hours.”

She rolled out of bed and into the bathroom for a lightning-quick shower. When she rolled back out, naked and warm from the drying tube, he was sipping a cup of coffee.

“Why are you up?”