She squeezed her eyes shut. “Should I go see him? No, not now, not yet. My being part of this would only make it worse, for everyone. Can we start sooner?” She reached for Mira again. “Couldn’t we start right after the physical?”
“No. You need this time, particularly now. If you want to help, you need to take this time.”
“I’m going to help.” She balled her hands again. “I’m going to see his face. I swear it. When I do. . . .” Her eyes burned as they lifted to Eve’s. “When I do, you’ll find him. You’ll stop him.”
“I’ll stop him.”
Chapter 16
“She knew the vic?” sympathy rippled over Peabody’s face. “Lucas, Lucas Grande, her ex. Didn’t click before. Man, that’s got to be rough. Especially rough. Must’ve been the trigger all along. It’s the kind of logic in paranormal elements.”
“You can’t use logic and paranormal in the same sentence.”
“Sure you can, oh stubbornly grounded one.”
They were going to check out shoes, Eve thought. That was logical.
“When can I drive the new ride?”
“When you learn that a yellow light means haul ass to get through it before it turns red instead of slowing down to a crawl a half a block away.”
“You force me to point out that you drive offensively rather than de-fensively.”
“Damn straight. You drive like one of those prissy ladies at lunch who won’t take the last cookie in case somebody else wants it. No, please, please,” Eve said in a high, satisfyingly prissy voice, “you go ahead. Hell with that. I want the cookie, I eat the cookie. Now, give me a for instance and stop sulking.”
“I get thirty seconds of sulk time when my driving abilities have been so brutally and unjustly insulted. Besides, taking the last cookie is rude.”
“And you and your prissy lady pals end up letting the waiter chow down on it after he takes the plate back to the kitchen.”
With a huff, Peabody folded her arms over her chest because she realized that was probably true. And there were many cookies she’d missed due to manners. “For instance what?”
“Say you’re shacked up with this guy.”
Her mood lifted instantly. “I am shacked up with a guy,” she said proudly.
“Peabody.”
“Yeah, yeah, this is a hypothetical.” She sulked a little more as Eve plowed through a yellow light. “Is he really cute and sexy, and does he bring me cookies and let me eat the last one to show his love and devotion?”
“Whatever. So you and this guy call it off.”
“Aw. I don’t like this pa
rt.”
“Who does?”
“Was it because I ate all those cookies and my ass got fat?”
“Peabody!”
“Okay, okay. Sir. I’m just trying to understand the motivation. Like who called it off, and why, and . . . never mind,” she said when she saw Eve bare her teeth.
“You call it off, go your separate ways. You still pals?”
“Maybe. Depends. Don’t bite through my jugular or anything, because it really does. Did the breakup involve calling each other unflattering names and hurling small, breakable objects, or was it sad, yet reasonable, a mutual decision. See?”
Eve didn’t see it, but stayed the course. “No, but we’ll say, for this case, it was sad, yet reasonable. So later this guy hooks up with another skirt. How would you feel about that?”