Eve didn’t stir until something cold and sticky was slapped on her face. Then she yelped.
‘What the hell—’
‘A Saturnia facial.’ Trina glopped on more dun-colored goo. ‘Clear out your pores like a vacuum. It’s a crime to neglect your skin. Mavis, get out the Sheena, will you?’
‘What’s the Sheena - never mind.’ With one final shudder, Eve closed her eyes and surrendered. ‘I don’t want to know.’
‘Might as well have the full treatment.’ Trina slicked more mud under Eve’s jaw, quick fingers working up. ‘You’re tight, honey. Want me to plug in a nice VR program for you?’
‘No, no. This is about as fanciful as I can handle, thanks.’
‘Okay. Want to tell me about your man?’ Briskly, Trina tugged open the robe Eve had been ordered to wear and clamped her mud coated hands on Eve’s breasts. When Eve’s eyes popped open, fired, she laughed. ‘Don’t you worry, I’m not into females. Your man’s going to love your tits when I’m done with them.’
‘He likes them just fine now.’
‘Yeah, but Saturnia’s breast smoother is top of the line. They’ll feel like rose petals. Take my word. Is he a nibbler or a sucker?’
Eve just closed her eyes again. ‘I’m not even here.’
‘There you go.’
She heard water run, then Trina was back and rubbing something into her hair that smelled appealingly of vanilla.
People paid for this, Eve reminded herself. Huge amounts that put gaping holes in their credit accounts.
People were obviously insane. She kept her eyes stubbornly closed as something warm and wet was laid over her mud-covered breasts, her face. Conversations went on cheerfully around her. Mavis and Trina discussed various beauty aids, Leonardo and Biff consulted over line and color.
Very insane, Eve thought, then let out a groan as her feet were massaged. They were dipped in something hot and oddly pleasant. She heard the crackle of something, felt her feet being lifted, covered. Then her hands received the same treatment.
She tolerated it, tolerated even the quick buzz of something around her eyebrows. And felt heroic when she heard Mavis laugh easily and flirt with Leonardo.
She had to keep Mavis’s spirits up, she thought. It was as vital as every step in the investigation. It wasn’t enough to represent the dead.
She squeezed her eyes tighter when she heard the snip of Trina’s shears, felt the light tugs, the comb through. Hair was just hair, she told herself. Appearances didn’t matter.
Oh Jesus, don’t let her scalp me.
She forced her mind to focus on work, ran through questions she would ask Redford in the morning, considered his possible answers. It was likely she would be called to the commander’s office about the news leak. She would deal with that.
She needed a conference with both Feeney and Peabody. It was time to see if any of the data the three of them had dug up would dovetail. She’d go back to the club, have Crack turn her on to some of the regulars. Someone might have seen whoever had spooked Boomer that night. And if that same person had talked to Hetta—
She jerked when Trina adjusted the chair to recline and began to scrub off the mud. ‘She’ll be ready for you in five,’ Trina told an impatient Leonardo. ‘I don’t rush my genius.’ She grinned down at Eve. ‘You’ve got decent skin. I’m going to leave some samples with you. Use them, you’ll keep it decent.’
Mavis peered down and Eve began to feel like a patient on an operating table. ‘You did a wonderful job on the eyebrows, Trina. They look so natural. All she needs to do is dye her lashes. They don’t even need a lengthener. And don’t you think that dimple in her chin is mag?’
‘Mavis,’ Eve said wearily. ‘I don’t want to have to hit you.’
Mavis only grinned. ‘Pizza’s here. Have a bite.’ She stuffed some in Eve’s mouth. ‘Wait till you see your skin, Dallas. It’s gorgeous.’
Eve only grunted. The hot cheese had seared the roof of her mouth, but it also stirred juices. She risked choking and took the rest of the slice while Trina bound up her hair in a silver turban.
‘It’s thermal,’ Trina told her as she shot the chair back up. ‘I’ve got a root and shaft penetrator on it.’
Eve eyed the reflection. Maybe her skin did look dewy, and at a wary stroke of her fingers, it certainly felt smooth. But she couldn’t see even a single strand of hair. ‘I’ve got hair under there, right? My hair?’
‘Sure you do. Okay, Leonardo. She’s yours for twenty minutes.’
‘At last.’ He beamed. ‘Take off the robe.’