"Well, if that's what the bad guys see before you arrest them, it's a wonder they don't fall to their knees begging for mercy."
Phoebe stepped forward, holding a towel. "I'm sorry," she added. "I know you didn't hear me come in. I got caught up watching you. You swim like a fish, in the best sense of the term."
Because she was also naked as a fish, Eve took the towel, quickly wrapped herself in it. "Thanks."
"Roarke said you'd be down here. I brought you some coffee." She took an oversized mug off the table. "And one of Sam's amazing croissants. I wanted to take a moment to thank you for your hospitality."
"No problem. You, ah, settle in okay?"
"It would be hard to do otherwise here. Do you have a minute, or are you in a rush?"
"Well, I—"
"The croissant's fresh." She held out the plate, close enough that the fragrance of it hypnotized. "Sam managed to charm Summerset into letting him use the kitchen."
"I can take a minute." Because putting on a robe would mean taking off the towel first, she sat as she was. And because Phoebe was watching her, she broke off a corner of the croissant.
"It's great." And immediately broke off another piece. "Seriously great."
"Sam's a brilliant cook. Eve—can I call you Eve? I know most don't."
Maybe it was that steady look, or the tone of voice or a combination of both, but Eve found herself wanting to squirm in her chair. "Sure, okay."
"I make you uncomfortable. I wish I didn't."
"No, you ..." She did squirm. "I'm just not good with people."
"I don't think that's true. You've been good with Delia. Exceptionally good. And don't tell me it's just the job, because I know it's not." Phoebe picked up a mug of tea, watching Eve as she drank. "There's been a change in her this past year. She's grown, as a person. Dee always seemed to know what she wanted to do, to be, but since working for you she's found her place. She's more confident, sadder in some ways, I think because of the things she's seen and had to do. But stronger for them. Her letters and calls are full of you. I wonder if you know how much it means to her that you made her a part of who you are."
"Listen, Mrs. Peabody ... Phoebe," she corrected. "I don't—I haven't—" She blew out a breath. "I'm going to say something about Peabody, and I don't want it getting back to her."
Phoebe's lips curved at the corners. "All right. What you tell me stays between us."
"She's got a good eye and a quick brain. Most cops do, or they don't last long. She remembers things, so you don't have to waste time going over the same ground with her. She knows what it means to serve and protect, what it really means. That makes a difference in what kind of cop you turn out to be. I went a long time working solo. I liked it that way. There wasn't anybody I wanted with me after my old partner transferred to EDD."
"Captain Feeney."
"Yeah, when Feeney got his bars and went into EDD, I worked alone. Then I come across Peabody, all spit and polish and sneaky sarcasm. I wasn't going to take on a uniform. I never intended to be anybody's trainer. But... she has a spark. I don't know how else to say it. You don't see that kind of thing every day on the job. She wanted Homicide, and I figure the dead need all the spark they can get. She'd have gotten there without me. I just gave her a boost."
"Thank you. I worry about her. She's a grown woman, but she's my little girl. She always will be. That's motherhood. But I'll worry less after what you've told me. I don't suppose you'd tell me what you think of Ian McNab."
Something like panic tickled Eve's throat. "He's a good cop."
Phoebe tipped back her head and laughed until the rich, rollicking sound of it filled the room. "How did I know you'd say that? Don't worry, Eve, I like him very much, more so since he's so goofily in love with my little girl."
"Goofy covers it," Eve muttered.
"Now, I know you need to get to work, but I have a gift for you."
"You gave us a gift already."
"That was from my man and me to you and your man. This is from me to you." She bent to pick up a box she'd set on the floor, then put it in Eve's lap. "Gifts shouldn't unnerve you. They're just tokens, of appreciation or affection. In this case both. I brought it with me before I was completely sure we'd come all the way to New York. Before I was completely sure I'd give it to you. I had to meet you first. Please, open it."
With no way out, Eve took off the lid. Inside was a statue of a woman, perhaps eight inches high, carved from some nearly transparent crystal. Her head was tipped back so that her hair rained down almost to her feet. Her eyes were closed, her mouth bowed up in a quiet smile. She held her arms out to her sides, palms up.
"She's the goddess," Phoebe explained. "Carved in alabaster. She represents the strength, courage, the wisdom, the compassion that is uniquely female."
"She's terrific." Holding it up, Eve watched the light streaming through the windows shimmer on the carved figure. "She looks old, in a good way," she added quickly and made Phoebe laugh again.