Calculated in Death (In Death 36)

“And partying,” Peabody added.

“You’re going to look good doing all that when I get done with you.” Trina, her hair piled in red and gold curls that made Eve think of a flaming tower, circled. Then she stunned Eve speechless by pinching Eve’s cheek.

“Your skin’s good. You’ve been taking care of it.”

“I . . . Maybe.” She slapped on the gunk Trina pushed on her. Not because she was afraid of Trina, very much, but because it felt pretty good. “Pinch me again and I’ll flatten you.”

“Relax. I’m going to give you both a hydro boost. It’ll give you a nice dewy glow.”

“I don’t need a—”

“It’s fast and relaxing.” In her fearless way, Trina rolled over Eve’s objections. “I prep and paint the canvas. Let’s get started.”

“I need to fill Mavis in on what’s going on tonight.”

“You can do that while your skin’s hydrating. Mavis already had her boost. We’re set up in the master suite.”

“Already?”

“Do I paint you up like a slut? Make you look homely and haggard?” Trina demanded.

“You’ve painted tattoos on me without my knowledge or permission.”

Trina just bared her teeth in a wide, wide smile. “Not tonight.”

“Maybe I could get one. My dress has these rosebuds around the waist,” Peabody explained. “A little rosebud tattoo would be cute.”

“We’ll take a look. Let’s go,” Trina insisted. “You changed the schedule so let’s stick to it.”

No arguing with that, Eve thought. Time to suck it up.

“Where’s everybody else?” she asked as they trooped to the bedroom.

“McNab and Roarke are playing with the e-angle of the op,” Peabody told her.

“Op? There’s an op?”

Eve patted Mavis’s shoulder. “I’ll explain. Where’s Leonardo?”

“He’s still home with Bella. He’s going to meet up with us at Central because you said we had to leave from there. We didn’t want to leave her with the sitter so early. Carly’s mag, she’s the sitter. Completely on the sweet, and Bellamina likes her bunches, but it’s a long time from now till after the after.”

“They dote,” Trina put in. “Belle brings out the dote in everybody.”

“She’s a dote magnet,” Mavis agreed. “If there’s an op that means there’s a bad guy, and your bad guys kill people. We already had that on this vid, Dallas. No way to skip the replay?”

“Different killer, different play.” Eve looked at the two portable salon chairs in her bedroom, wished she were anywhere else.

“You and Peabody first,” Trina told Eve. “That way you can tell us what the hell’s going on while you’re boosting. Mavis, you can get us some of that bubbly Roarke told us about.”

“On the job,” Eve said.

“Me, too, but I get bubbly.”

Trina opened one of her cases.

And so it began.

An hour later—or was it days—Eve had her face boosted, slathered, energized, and painted. Giving Mavis the basics helped a little, but when Trina got to her hair, she clutched.