Memory in Death (In Death 22)

“It’ll be great, it’ll be good. You can take us into the mind of the NYPSD’s hottest cop.”

“Oh, shit.”

“How you work, how you think, the routine. The steps and stages of an investigation. We’ll talk about the Icove case—”

“Hasn’t that horse been beaten dead yet?”

“Not as long as people are interested, and they are. I’m going to start working with a writer on the book, and the vid script. I need you to meet with her.”

Eve lifted a finger, slashed it through the air. “Line drawn.”

Nadine’s smile was sly. “It’s going to get done with or without you, Dallas. You want to make sure it’s done right, don’t you?”

“Who’s playing you in the vid?” Peabody wanted to know, and attacked the orange blossom chicken on her plate the minute it was in front of her.

“Don’t know yet. We’re just getting started.”

“Am I in it?”

“Sure. The young, steady detective who hunts murderers alongside her sexy, seasoned partner.”

“I’m going to boot,” Eve muttered, and was ignored.

“This is too frosty! Entirely. Wait ‘til I tell McNab.”

“Nadine, this is good for you. Another round of big congrats and all that.” Eve shook her head. “But it’s not the kind of thing I want to get tangled in. It’s not what I do, what I am.”

“Be iced if we could do some of the shoot for the show and the vid at your house. Dallas at home.”

“Not in this lifetime.”

Nadine grinned. “Figured as much. Think about some of it, anyway, will you? I’m not going to push it on you.”

Eve sampled pasta, gave Nadine a wary look. “No?”

“No. I’ll nag a little, finagle where I can, but I won’t push. Here’s why,” she said, tapping her fork in the air. “Remember that time you saved my life? When that psycho Morse had me in the park, ready to slice me to pieces?”

“I have a vague recollection.”

“This is bigger.” Nadine signaled the waiter. “Another round here. So I’m not going to push,” she continued. “Much. But if you could catch a juicy case mid-February when we debut, it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Mavis is due then,” Peabody commented.

“God, that’s right. Mama Mavis,” Nadine added with a laugh. “Still can’t get around it. You and Roarke started your coaching classes yet, Dallas?”

“Shut up. Never mention it again.”

“They’re dragging butt over it,” Peabody told her. “Procrastinating.”

“The word’s ‘avoiding,’” Eve corrected. “People always want you to do stuff that’s not natural.”

“Childbirth’s natural,” Peabody put in.

“Not when I’m involved.”

* * *

Going to the lab to boot some ass, Eve thought. That was natural. She found Dick Berenski, of the spidery fingers and egg-shaped head, at a work station, slurping coffee through his flabby lips.