Roarke’s newest toy, an enormous silver monstrosity on wheels, was smoking away, with the man himself at the helm with a long-handled spatula. The smoke smelled like meat—real meat from real cows. Several individuals were currently chowing down on it in the form of thick burgers on buns.
They were seated at tables or standing around chatting, in full party mode.
The city’s medical examiner was swigging beer from the bottle and having what appeared to be an amusing conversation with Mavis. Mira—and where the hell had she come from—was seated at a table scattered with food and flickering candles while she held some sort of confab with Leonardo and the terrifying Trina.
The captain of EDD stood munching a burger one-handed and giving Roarke advice on the mysteries and mystiques of outdoor cooking.
Everyone seemed pretty damn jolly and well-fed, and to Eve’s mind out of place. Hadn’t she just left a sealed room where she’d spent considerable time picking her way through red tape and the land mines of diplomacy and palm greasing? Wasn’t she in the messy middle of a murder investigation involving covert organizations and state secrets?
Now it was burgers and beer in the twilight with birds and butterflies.
Her life, she decided, was just plain strange.
Leonardo spotted her first, and with a wide grin splitting his big caramel-colored face, glided over to her in what Eve supposed was his casual cookout-wear of shimmery white pants and a bright yellow shirt that crossed over his impressive chest in a skin-tight X. He bent down, his soft, curling hair brushing her cheek just before his lips.
“Mavis told me she’d been upset, and came to you. I wanted to thank you for being there for her, for giving her this time tonight to feel normal and steady again.”
“She just needed to spew.”
“I know.” Then he wrapped his big arms around Eve, pressing her hard against the rock wall of his chest. This time when he spoke, his voice was thick and shaky. “The baby moved.”
“Yeah.” She wasn’t quite sure what response was called for, and gingerly patted him somewhere on the miles of exposed skin of his back. “She said. So, ah, everything’s good now.”
“Everything’s perfect.” He heaved a sigh. “Perfect.” He drew back, and his gold eyes were gleaming. “Good friends, the woman I love with our child inside her. Life is so precious. I realize that now more than ever before. I know Dr. Mira needs to speak with you, but I just wanted to have a moment first.”
Drawing her close to his side he all but carried her to the table where Mira sat.
“Now don’t start.” He wagged a finger at Trina. “Dallas needs to speak with Dr. Mira, and to have a moment to relax.”
“I can bide my time.” Trina grinned, a wide magenta smile that sent a chill up Eve’s spine. “I have plans. Lots of plans.” She scooped up her plate and wandered off on six-inch platform sandals.
“Oh my God.”
With a look caught between sympathy and amusement, Mira patted the chair beside her. “Sit. What a gorgeous evening. I’m stealing an hour of it to be here, on what was supposed to be a quick professional call. Now I’m having this lovely glass of wine and this rather magnificent hamburger.”
“Did he actually cook it?” Eve glanced back at Roarke. “On that thing?”
“He did. I’m probably telling tales out of school, but he talked to my Dennis at some length about how to use the grill.” Mira took another bite. “He seems to have figured it out.”
“Nothing much gets over on Roarke. A professional call?” she prompted.
“Yes. I could’ve waited until tomorrow, but I thought you’d like to know as soon as possible that Reva Ewing passed her level-three.”
“Thanks. How’s she doing?”
“A little shaky and tired. Her mother took her straight home. I think she’s in good hands there.”
“Yeah, Caro’s another who always seems to know what she’s doing.”
“She’s afraid for her daughter, Eve. However efficient and steady she is on the surface, under it, she’s desperately worried. I could speak with her, or Roarke could. I’m sure he will. But the fact is you’re the one in authority. And you’re the one whose thoughts and opinions she’d respect most in this.”
“Did you come by to tell me about the level three, or to tell me I should talk to Caro?”
“Both.” Mira patted her hand. “Also, I looked over the results of her blood tests taken just after she was taken into custody.”
“There was nothing. No chemicals, illegal or otherwise. And the medicals found no trauma to indicate she’d been physically knocked out.”
“No.” Mira picked up her wine. “But we both know there are some anesthetics that can debilitate quickly, and dissipate without a discernible trace within two or three hours.”