She was still moving through a daze when the ceremony was done, and McNab rushed forward to lift her off her feet. And Roarke leaned over and—oh my God!—kissed her right on the mouth.
But she couldn’t find Eve. Through the congratulations and pats on the back, the ribbing and the noise, she didn’t see Eve anywhere. Finally, still clutching her badge, she broke away.
When she tracked Eve down in her office, her lieutenant was back in street clothes, at her desk, hunched over paperwork.
“Sir. You got out of there so fast.”
“I had things to do.”
“You were wearing your uniform.”
“Why does everybody say that like it’s cause for a national holiday? Listen, congratulations. I mean it. I’m proud of you, and glad for you. But fun time’s over, and I’ve got a shit-pile of paperwork.”
“Well, I’m going to take time to thank you, and that’s that. I wouldn’t have this if it wasn’t for you.” She kept the shield cupped in her hand as if it were the finest crystal. “Because you believed in me, you pushed me, and you taught me, I’ve got it.”
“That’s not entirely untrue.” Eve tipped the chair back, put the heel of one boot on the desk. “But if you hadn’t believed in yourself, pushed yourself, and learned, I wouldn’t have done you a damn bit of good. So you’re welcome, for what part I played in it. You’re a good cop, Peabody, and you’ll be a better one as time goes by. Now, the paperwork.”
Peabody’s vision was blurry, but she blinked back the tears. “I’ll get right on it, sir.”
“That’s not your job.”
“As your aide—”
“You’re no longer my aide. You’re a detective, and part of this paperwork I’m slogging through is your new assignment.”
The tears dried up, and the flush the excitement and joy had put in her cheeks drained away. “I don’t understand.”
“Detectives can’t be wasted as aides.” Eve spoke briskly. “You’ll be reassigned. I assume you’d prefer to stay in Homicide.”
“But . . . but. God! Dallas, I never considered that I couldn’t stay—that we wouldn’t work together. I’d never have taken the damn exam if I’d known you’d have to boot me.”
“That’s a ridiculous thing to say, and shows a lack of respect for your shield. I can give you a short list of choices for your reassignment.” Eve flicked a key on the desk unit and had a spreadsheet coming up. “Or if you’re just going to whine about it, I’ll make the choice for you.”
“I wasn’t thinking, wasn’t expecting.” And now her stomach hurt all over again. “I can’t take it in. Couldn’t I at least take a few days to adjust? Continue as your aide until you make other arrangements? I could clear up the pending—”
“Peabody, I don’t need an aide. I never needed an aide, and got along fine without one before I took you on. Now it’s time for you to move along.”
Eve turned back to her desk in a gesture of dismissal. With her lips pressed tightly together, Peabody nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t need a damn aide,” Eve repeated. “Could use a partner, though.”
That stopped Peabody in her tracks. “Sir?” she managed in a croak.
“If you’re interested, that is. And as the ranking officer, I’d still dump most of the shitwork on you. That’s the part I really like.”
“Partner? Your partner.” Peabody’s lips trembled, and the tears won.
“Oh for God’s sake! Close the door if you’re going to blubber. Do you think I want the bull pen to hear crying in here? They might think it’s me.”
She sprang up, slammed the door herself, and then found herself caught in another of Peabody’s bear hugs.
“I take this as a yes.”
“This is the best day of my life.” Peabody stepped back, rubbed the tears off her cheeks. “The ult. I’m going to make you a hell of a partner.”
“I bet you will.”
“And I won’t do the hug and blubber thing except in extreme circumstances.”