Connections in Death (In Death 48)

“Anytime at all.”

“Hey, Dallas.” Mavis did a little dance on her silver balls, grabbed Eve in a hug. “This party is whipping it.” She added a squeeze for Roarke, for Jake. “All my fave people, add food and adult beverage, and it’s going on. I heard there’s jamming on the terrace. Am I going to get in on that?”

“Counting on it,” Jake told her. “How about we check out the venue?”

“I’m in.”

“I’ll get the drinks,” Leonardo said.

After Leonardo kissed the top of her fountain of hair, Mavis beamed up at him. “Thanks, Honey Bear. Check you all later.”

“I’m heading to the music.” Feeney shot a finger at Eve. “Did you know Santiago can burn up the keys?”

“I heard that.”

“Light under a bushel.” With a shake of his head, Feeney took his rumpled suit out to the terrace.

“Bushel of what?” Eve wondered.

“I’ll explain later. It’s lovely to see you, Bebe.”

“And both of you. I’m grateful, Lieutenant, for the work you and your detectives did in the Larinda Mars investigation.”

“That’s the job.”

Bebe nodded, looked down into her drink. “We all have one. Excuse me.”

“She’s taking on too much of the blame.” Nadine looked after her as Bebe slipped away.

“It wasn’t on her.”

“No.” Nadine nodded at Eve. “But she’s the boss. I’m just going to smooth that out. And send somebody with another round of drinks.”

Crack shot his eyebrows up. “Cops do bring a party down.”

The woman beside him gave him a sharp elbow. “Wilson!”

He only laughed. “You looking fine for a skinny white girl cop.”

“You don’t look half bad for

a big black man dive owner.”

“Down and Dirty ain’t no dive. It’s a joint. Yo, Roarke. I want you to meet my beautiful lady. This is Rochelle Pickering.”

Rochelle extended a hand to Eve, then to Roarke. “I’m so happy to meet both of you. I’ve followed your work, Lieutenant, and yours, Roarke. Especially in regard to Dochas and An Didean.”

“She’s a shrink,” Quilla announced, and Crack grinned at her.

“Kid shrink. Watch those steps, shortie, or she could come for you.”

“As if,” Quilla muttered, but melted away into the crowd.

“Wilson.” Rochelle rolled her eyes. “I’m a psychologist, specializing in children. I’ve actually consulted at Dochas.”

“I’m aware,” Roarke told her, which had her blinking at him.

“That’s … unexpected.”