Reunion in Death (In Death 14)

One more side of New York, Eve thought. The friendly, upper class neighborhood. In all probability people actually knew each other's name on this block. Got together now and then for cocktails, herded kids or grandchildren down to the park in groups, and stopped to chat on doorsteps.

It was exactly the sort of milieu that suited Dr. Charlotte Mira.

Eve turned to the door, rang the bell. Then immediately changed her mind. She had no business busting in on Mira's home time. She'd actually stepped back, thinking retreat, when the door opened.

She recognized Mira's husband though they'd rarely had personal contact. He was tall and gangly, a kind of comfortable scarecrow in a baggy cardigan and wrinkled slacks. His hair was pewter, a wild, interesting mop tangled around a long face that was somehow both scholarly and innocent.

He carried a pipe, and his sweater was misbuttoned.

He smiled, his eyes, the color of winter grass, puzzled. "Hello. How are you?"

"Ah. Fine. I'm sorry, Mr. Mira, I shouldn't be disturbing you at home. I was just—"

"You're Eve." His face cleared, warmed. "It takes me a minute. Recognized your voice. Come in, come in."

"Actually, I should—"

But he reached out, gripped her hand, and pulled her in the door. "Didn't realize you were coming by. Can't keep track. Charlie!" He shouted toward the steps. "Your Eve's here."

The protest died in Eve's throat at the idea of the elegant Mira being called Charlie.

"Come sit down. I think I was fixing drinks. Mind wanders. Drives Charlie crazy. Ha-ha."

"I'm interrupting. I'll just see Dr. Mira tomorrow."

"Yes, there's the wine. I was sure I brought it in. I'm sorry, help me out. Are we having dinner?"

He was still holding her hand, and she could find no polite way to tug free. And he was smiling at her with such amiable confusion and humor, she fell just a little bit in love.

"No, you weren't expecting me at all."

"Then what a nice surprise."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Before she could respond, Mira rushed in and Eve experienced yet another shock at seeing the consistently elegant Mira in an oversized white T-shirt and black skin-pants. Her feet were bare, the nails painted a pretty candy pink.

"Dennis? Who did you say ... Why, Eve."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be here. I was on my way home, and I... I apologize for disturbing you at home. I'll just, ah, contact your office in the morning."

It was rare, Mira thought, to see Eve flustered. "We're not the least disturbed. Are we having wine, Dennis?"

"Are we?" He looked baffled again, then stared down at the bottle in his hand. "Oh. Yes, we are. I'll get another glass."

"No, please. Don't bother. I shouldn't be here. I should go."

"Don't be silly." Mira smiled at her. "Sit down. If you're on duty, we can offer you something soft rather than wine."

"No, I'm off, but—"

"Good." She crossed the room, pausing to rebutton her husband's cardigan with such simple intimacy that it made Eve feel more like an intruder than if they'd exchanged a wet, sloppy kiss. Mira chose another glass herself from a display cabinet, then simply laid a hand on Eve's shoulder to nudge her into a chair.

So Eve found herself sitting in Mira's pretty, colorful living room accepting a glass of wine.

"How was your vacation?" Mira began.

"Good. It was good."