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Devoted in Death (In Death 41)

Page 122

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His lips twitched into a smile. “All right, then. I’ll go take that dip.”

“Back in thirty,” Eve called out as the three of them got in the elevator. “That’s enough,” she said to Roarke when the doors closed, “because as I don’t see a threesome happening, there won’t be any pool sex.”

He shook his head at that. “You’ll eat, and catch me up so we don’t waste the thirty.”

When she sat with him, took the first spoonful of stew, it slid into her like ambrosia. She didn’t know what the hell ambrosia was, but she’d bet good money the chicken and dumplings beat it.

“Ella-Loo Parsens, Darryl Roy James.”

Roarke nodded toward the updated board. “I have that much.”

She smiled a little. “A man walks into a bar,” she began.

She’d nearly finished, eating and briefing, when the trio came back, chattering like…

“What are those birds in Ireland?”

“We have more than one variety.”

“The ones in the saying.”

“Cuckoos?”

“No, but that would fit. The one is for something and another’s for something else.”

“I wonder how it is I know what you’re talking about. Magpies.”

“That’s it.”

“We peeked into the new dojo. We didn’t go in,” Peabody said quickly. “But just wanted to see. It’s mag.”

“It’s an amazing house,” Banner added. “It never stops.”

“Grab food. Roarke’s about up to date.”

“What you’ve got smells total.” McNab sniffed.

“Chicken stew with dumplings,” Roarke told him.

“Yum! Is there enough?” Peabody wondered.

“There is.”

“I’ll get it up. I remember how to work the AC in there. Least I can do,” Banner finished.

“One alcoholic beverage. Wine or beer, then it’s coffee.”

“It’ll be wine for you, won’t it, Peabody?” Roarke rose to get her a glass. “Ian?”

“That’ll work. Maybe just wine all around. We’ll all be on the same page.”

“What’s the status on the electronics Banner brought up?” Eve asked.

“Feeney and I hit that, pulled Callendar in on it, too. We’ve got an auto running through the night.”

McNab plucked one of the crusty little rolls from the shallow bowl on the table, tossed it in the air, caught it. Bit right in.

“Problem with the ’link from the Chinese place is it’s way old-school,” he said around the bread, “and when they override it a million times, the transmissions blur together, even after you dig them out. If we knew the ’link code we were after, sure, we’d piece that with some time. Going blind, trying to find the one without knowing the code or the registered name, that’s a crapshoot.”



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