Visions in Death (In Death 19) - Page 142

She just lifted her hands, let them fall. “Shit, Mavis.”

“I know.” Mavis settled down beside her. “Scared everybody. I had my jag already. You can go ahead, finish yours.”

“I think I did.” But because she could, she let her head lean on Mavis’s shoulder a moment. “Maybe after she’s better, Trina could give her the full works. Peabody’d like that. She can be a real girl.”

“Good

thinking. We’ll have a complete girl party.”

“I didn’t mean . . . sure, whatever. You got any sunshades on you?”

“Do monkeys screw in the jungle?” She reached into the purple fringe worked into her shirt and drew out a pair of purple shades with green lenses.

“What the hell.” Deciding they were marginally better than going around with red, swollen eyes, Eve put them on.

“Uptown!”

“No, I’m thinking down.” Eve got up, helped Mavis to her feet. “Thanks for the loan. I’ve gotta go bust this bastard.”

Chapter 21

Roarke said nothing until they were back in the car, Eve behind the wheel.

“Not your usual fashion accessory.”

“Huh?”

He tapped a finger on the frames.

“Oh. Mavis. I, ah, borrowed them because . . .” She blew out a breath.

“You don’t need to hide them from me.” He slipped the glasses off, leaning over to lay light kisses on her eyelids.

“Aw,” she said with a half smile. “What’re ya gonna do?” She threw her arms around him, burrowing in. “I didn’t want to break down and start blubbering all over McNab. I got most of it out, so you don’t have to worry about me blubbering all over you.”

“I never worry. You were due for a breakdown, and you timed it until you were sure our girl was going to be all right.”

“Yeah, I guess.” It was so good to hold, to be held. “Now we’re going to take care of business.” She eased back. “Eyes bad?”

“They’re beautiful.”

She rolled them. “This is not Peabody on drugs.”

“By the time you get to Central, good as new.”

“Okay.” But she stuck the sunshades back on. “Just in case.”

They weren’t even out of the parking garage when her communicator beeped. “Dallas.”

“Got him.”

“Oh Jesus, Feeney. Send it through to my vehicle’s unit. I want to see him. We’re on our way to Central now. Can you meet me in my office?”

“I’ll be there. Take a look.”

Quickly, she programmed the vehicle for Central’s garage and shifted to auto so she could give the image her full attention.

“There you are, you son of a bitch. Blue, John Joseph. Age thirty-one. Damn it.”

Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery
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