Obsession in Death (In Death 40)

Lolo just eyed her. “I’m not giving it to you ’cause you’re a cop. You’re getting it ’cause you’re skinny. Put in a couple slabs of that pie, too,” she called out. “When you catch that killer woman, you’re going to want some meat on your bones to take her down.”

“I really don’t . . . What kind of pie?”

Lolo smiled again. “Damn good pie.”

• • •

She sent McNab ahead, finished things up by talking to the beat cops. She wanted the neighborhood covered, visibly. Then she carted the takeaway—soup, pie, and garlic bread sticks Casey added in as, in his words, an apology for getting in her way.

She started to stow it in the back of the All-Terrain, realized she’d probably forget about it, so put it on the passenger seat.

Then made damn sure all the auto anti-theft bells and whistles were in play.

Since they knew she was on the way, Eve didn’t bother to buzz up, but used her master.

How many times had she climbed these stairs, she wondered, before Roarke? Couldn’t count them. She’d gotten stuck in the elevator once for over a half hour—and that had been the last time she’d used it, even when her ass had been dragging.

She thought of Peabody and McNab happily cohabbing, of Mavis and her family with their color and life. Was the building more content now that she wasn’t dragging blood and death in with her every night?

And that stupid thought, she admitted, was a direct result of frustration and just plain pissiness at having lost her quarry.

She’d make this quick, just do a check, reinforce precautions, then take her soup and sour mood home. Roarke had to deal with her moods. It was in the marriage rules.

She rapped on the door. The shriek blew out the second it opened. Eve’s hand flew to her weapon, had it nearly drawn when the wild laughter followed.

“What the hell.”

Leonardo—another mountain, but in fashionable trousers of dull gold and a knee-length vest over a black sweater, smiled at her. “We told Bella you were coming.”

Bella toddled across the floor as fast as her chubby little legs could manage, her face beaming smiles under its curly mass of sunny hair. She wore a rainbow, or so it seemed, with pretty pale colors swirling everywhere on some sort of skirted jumpsuit her father had, no doubt, designed for her.

Her boots were pink poodles.

She said, “Das!” and threw her arms around Eve’s legs.

“Okay. Why is she always so happy? What do you feed her?”

“She has her mama’s sunny outlook.”

“Das, Das, Das!” Still beaming, Bella held up her arms.

It was weird picking a kid up off the ground, and always made her worry she’d drop her. Weirder yet to have the kid slap its chubby—and a little bit sticky—hands on her cheeks, look deep and directly into her eyes, and rattle off the incomprehensible.

“You should run her through a translator,” Eve said. “It would be interesting.”

Bella threw back her head, laughed like a loon, then planted her mouth—also a little bit sticky—on Eve’s, and made an exaggerated mmmmmmmaaa! sound.

“Candy. No wonder you’re always happy. They stuff you with candy.”

“Fruity Drops,” Leonardo corrected. “All natural. Ben and Steve went out to do a circuit, they called it, around a two-block area. You think she was coming here.” He reached out with his big hand, brushed it gently, gently, over Bella’s curls.

“I don’t. I think she was casing the building, trying to get a feel. If she’s got Mavis on her list, she isn’t going to try for her when you’re here. She ran from an unarmed woman, Leonardo. Your security’s already gone over all the protocols and procedures with you, but I want to add mine.”

“McNab’s working on the apartment’s security, doing something so that if it goes off, it’ll signal in their place.”

“That’s good thinking. He’s full of that today.”

“Mavis took Peabody in to look at her costume for the ball drop. I’m going to go get them. I’m glad you’re here.” He gave Eve’s arm a squeeze, held her gaze with eyes full of worry and gratitude. “Glad you’re here, and looking out for my girls.”