Born in Death (In Death 23)

At the gesture, Eve considered. Since everyone was being so cooperative, she could take the same page. “Sure.”

Eve took one of the high-backed velvet chairs arranged in the elegant jungle of flowers.

“If my granny—the tough-cookie granny—ever gets out here, I’m going to take her to tea at the Palace.” Peabody drew deep of the floral-scented air as she sat. “I think she’d get a charge out of it. Anyway, so while we’re waiting it’s a good time to talk about Mavis’s shower.”

“It couldn’t possibly be.”

“Come on, Dallas. We’re on serious countdown now. Anyway, I got the theme. Thinking it’s Mavis, and then with that chair you bought, I went with rainbow. I hit this party store on the way home last night and got all kinds of mag stuff.”

“Great. Go you.”

“Then there’s the flowers. I figured on bopping by this place I know. But the thing is, um…I can’t really afford to you know, pay.”

Though she’d been trying to tune Peabody out, the last hit a chord. “Well, Jesus, Peabody, you don’t have to pay. You’re not supposed to pay.”

“I want to help and everything, but—”

“Not with the dough.” Eve forced herself to focus and deal with it. “Listen, you’re right. There should be stuff. The more stuff, the more of the large charge Mavis gets. You’re willing to get the stuff, I’ll pay for it.”

“That’s good, that’s great. Um, I never asked about, like, a budget.”

Eve just sighed. “I guess the sky’s the freaking limit.”

“Yay. It’s just completely ult. I mean, it’s a total event.”

“Put the squealy girl away,” Eve said as she got to her feet. “Be a cop.”

Eve spotted the pretty young thing headed toward them. Willowy build in a streamlined, almost military-style suit. The leafy green shade suited the coffee-and-cream complexion, and the hair—worn in a sleek updo—was dense brown.

Her lips curved in a polite, restrained welcome, but even that small smile didn’t reach the melting chocolate eyes.

“Lieutenant Dallas, and…”

“Peabody. Detective,” Peabody told her.

“I’m Rochelle DeLay. You must be here about Natalie. Is it all right if we sit out here? My office is a little box of a thing, and currently loaded with supplies for a party.”

“This is fine.”

“I just talked to Jake. I wish he’d go home. I don’t think he’s ready to be there, see everyone, not where he saw and talked to Nat almost every day.”

“You were friends.”

“We were. We got to be good friends when Jake and I started seeing each other. But Nat and Jake?” She looked away a moment, as people did when their composure wavered. “They were like family to each other.”

“It didn’t bother you that the guy you’re dating was so tight with another woman?”

“It might have if there’d ever been anything romantic between them, or maybe it would have if it had been anyone but Nat. She was so into Bick, and I liked her so much. We had a lot of fun together, the four of us. We just clicked. I don’t know what to do for Jake.”

“Ms. DeLay,” Peabody said, “sometimes women tell their women friends things they don’t tell a man, no matter how close they are. Did Natalie say anything to you about being worried, concerned?”

“I can’t think of anything. But…we were supposed to have lunch the day before she…the day before. She called and told me she wasn’t feeling very well, was staying home from work, just going to stay in, catch up with things. Chill. I was busy. I was busy,” Rochelle repeated in a voice that broke. “So I was kind of relieved. And now, when I think back, she sounded, I don’t know, a little shaky, maybe nervous. I didn’t think about it at the time. I could’ve gone over, taken her something to eat. It’s what I do, but I didn’t because I was busy. If there was something wrong, she might have told me. I keep thinking that.”

“Hindsight’s a choke chain,” Eve told her. “You need to let that go. Tell me where you were the night she and Bick died.”

“We had dinner at his grandparents’. We played bridge afterward. Well, they played,” she said with a weak smile. “They’re teaching me, and I blow at it. It was after midnight when we left, and we went back to Jake’s. We’re sort of cohabbing—unofficially. Sliding into it, I guess you could say. I was in the East Ballroom.”

“I’m sorry?”