Born in Death (In Death 23)

“Aaron’s tagged her here a half-dozen times today. Her boyfriend? He’s so sweet, so groveling. They’ve talked and talked. She cried a lot, but she laughed, too. He wanted—begged, actually—to come over to see her today, but she just wasn’t ready. But she said he could come by our place tonight. He asked her to marry him.”

“Nice.”

“She didn’t say yes yet, but she will. She told me it was all she ever wanted, and that maybe all this happened so they can be a stronger family. I knew you’d find her, Dallas.”

“So you said.”

“I can’t say it enough. I can’t tell you what it all means, what you did. You and Roarke, and Peabody, McNab, Baxter, that cutie Trueheart. I hope those terrible people sit in a cell in their own body waste until their faces rot off.”

“Teddy bear,” Leonardo murmured, and she winced.

“I know. Out with the bad energy, in with the good.” Mavis shifted in her chair. “But I can’t help it. She told me everything that happened.”

“Wrapped up. Confessions all around, except for Bullock. But I didn’t push too hard for one there. Didn’t need it, and I like watching her try to squirm and writhe.”

“Busy little bee,” Roarke put in.

“We’re going to get out of your hive.” Mavis shifted again, winced again.

“Mavis?” Leonardo came half out of his seat.

“Just sitting wrong, that’s all. Hard to get comfortable these days. Only ten days to go. Help me up, baby doll, so I can work these kinks out.”

As he drew her to her feet, Tandy waddled in. “I’m sorry. Oh, hello, Dallas, Roarke. I want to thank you, so much, and there’s so much I want to say. But I’m afraid my water just broke.”

“Really?” Mavis squealed it as Eve went pale. “Oh, boy, oh, boy! Tandy.” She hurried, as fast as possible, to take her friend’s hands. “We’re going to have a baby! You want us to call Aaron, don’t you?”

“I do.” The sunlight switched on in Tandy’s face. “I really do.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing. Leonardo will go by and get your bag at your place, and I’ll go with you to the birthing center. And we’ll…Oh. Uh-oh.”

Mavis pressed a hand to the side of her belly, hunching a bit, breathing out. “Wow. Gee. Oops. I kind of think maybe I’m in labor.”

Eve pressed her fingers to her eyes as Leonardo bounded across the room like a drunken bull. “That’s just perfect.”

“Both of them?” Roarke gripped Eve’s hand, pushed to his feet, pulling her with him. “Now? Both?”

“Just bloody hell perfect.”

Hadn’t she just run an op that had taken down two international criminals? And during which, hadn’t she personally kicked a killer in the balls?

Hadn’t she just faced a personal demon by sitting in Interview with Bullock and seeing her own father’s face?

She could handle this. Please God.

But she had two women in labor in her parlor squealing at each other and talking so fast the words were a shiny blur, one expectant father who looked as if he was going to pass out at any moment. And her own husband, who was notoriously cool-headed, had just—literally—shoved her toward the insanity.

When she glanced over her shoulder to glare at him, he merely pointed at her and gulped down the rest of his wine.

“Okay, stop! Stop! Here’s what we’re going to do.”

The squealing and babbling cut off as if she’d sliced through it with a laser, and all eyes turned to her. Since her first clear thought was to scream wildly for Summerset, she bit down ruthlessly on her own rising hysteria.

“Right. Everybody’s going to get in one of the all-terrains, and we’re going to go to the birthing center.

“But I need my bag.” Tandy rubbed her belly, breathed out in little puffs. “I have to have it. It has my music and my focus—”

“Me, too, me, too.” Mavis pressed a hand to the small of her back. “If we don’t have our bags—”