Fantasy in Death (In Death 30) - Page 26

“I should touch base with Morris, and I want another pass at the scene. Keep me updated on the e-work.”

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“I’ll do that, but I want to go with you to Bart’s.”

She started to speak, stopped and reconsidered. “You might be handy there.”

“I do what I can.” He balled up the candy wrapper, two-pointed it into the recycler before he rose. “Thanks for the candy.”

She smiled. “What candy?”

5

“Do you think the penis ever gets tired?” As she drove, Eve turned her head toward Peabody, tipped down the shades she rarely remembered to wear. “Whose?”

“Anybody’s. I mean anybody with one. Does the penis ever just think: For God’s sake, pal, give it a rest? Or is it all: Woo-hoo! Here we go again!”

“Is this germane to the case, or have you lapsed into girl talk?”

“It springs from the case. I was thinking about that asshole Dubrosky. There he is banging away at Britt Casey yesterday afternoon. A triple-header, according to her. Floor,” she said, ticking it off on her fingers, “bed, and against the door. Then last night he’s bucking with Roland in fantasy game-play. Pirate captain and cabin boy.”

“Stop.”

“Wait. And this morning? He sneaks in a coffee and a quickie with Chelsea Saxton, then gets a follow-up bj in the shower.”

“Jesus, Peabody.”

“Well, I didn’t ask for the dirty details, but all three of them just splurted it all out when they found out about the others. I really think most ginnies would say: Hey! Don’t even think about putting anything in there for a while.”

“Ginnies?”

“It’s a nice name for vagina. And I really think after a couple rounds, under most circumstances, your average ginnie would say, okay, that’ll hold me for a while. But does the penis just keep searching out the next orifice? I wonder since I don’t have one.”

“In case you’re wondering, neither do I.”

“I’ve seen you naked so I know this. I think even the most stalwart and energetic penis would, at some point, say enough’s enough for today or tonight, and since, hey, I’m all relaxed now, I’m taking a little vacation. Or just a nap.”

“See now I’ve got this image of some cock sitting at a swim-up bar at a resort, wearing sunshades and drinking one of those stupid drinks full of fruit and paper umbrellas.”

“Aw, that’s cute.”

“It’s not cute. It’s mildly scary. Or disgusting. I’m not sure which. Both.” Eve blew out a tired breath. “I think both.”

“It should have a little straw hat, too. Anyway, I don’t think it’s about sex with Dubrosky’s penis.”

“Peabody, I can’t stress how much I don’t want to think about his penis.”

“It’s addiction,” Peabody continued, unfazed. “I bet Mira’d agree,” she added, referring to the departmental profiler and shrink. “He equates his worth with his penis, and also uses it as a weapon.”

“Okay, now I see it wearing a gold chain and toting a blaster. Stop now.”

Shifting, Peabody gave Eve a look of delight. “You get the best pictures in your head. It’s why you’re a good cop. Dubrosky said all that crap about needing to be admired. But see, he’s probably talking about his looks, his manner, but subconsciously, he’s talking about his penis.”

“Okay, if I agree with you, because actually I do, will you stop?”

“I just think it’s interesting. Now take this DuVaugne—”

Eve’s jaw tightened. “Do not start on his penis.”

Tags: J.D. Robb In Death Mystery
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