Page 46 of Random in Death

They made their tags.

“Nothing yet. A maybe, but head down, no face. They’re flagging black baggies, black shirt, but there are more than one. They’re about to knock off, let it run on auto. Any hits, it’ll signal their ’links.”

“So far, the only mistakes he made were leaving those scuff marks and the fabric on the window. We follow up there tomorrow. Roarke’s at the house—your house. I can take you there or to the apartment.”

“There please! I can make something to eat. You’ve gotta eat. My craft room’s painted—I went with the neutral so the yarns and fabrics give the pop. And the main bedroom and bath on Mavis’s side is finished. So’s Bella’s room. Oh, it’s going to be so sweet when it’s furnished.”

Since she couldn’t think anyway, Eve let Peabody ramble as they drove.

The gates of the Great House Project opened when she pulled up to them.

The exterior looked as it had the last time. Finished, homey, happy. Flowers and trees, green grass, the wide porch, the tall windows.

As she parked, Roarke walked around from the back of the house. Odd, she thought; though it had been only hours since she’d left him, it felt like days.

Roarke took one look at her. “You’re tired, Lieutenant. As are you, Peabody. We’re on the back patio. Come sit awhile.”

As they walked around the house, down a paved path that sort of meandered, Peabody talked about doing some shade plants, naturalizing with bulbs or something.

Eve wanted to lay her head on Roarke’s shoulder and shut her eyes. For several hours.

Then Bella raced around the back corner and shot at Eve like a missile.

Oh God, she thought, but with little choice caught the girl in red shorts and a shirt with a unicorn jumping over a rainbow as she leaped.

“Das! Das! Das!”

Cupping Eve’s face, she slobbered kisses on both her cheeks. Then leaned back. Her face, pretty as that rainbow, crumpled into sympathy. “Aw, Das seepy. Nap.”

“If only.”

Bella laid her head on Eve’s shoulder, patted her arm and sang something sweet and incomprehensible.

“It’s a lullaby,” Peabody told her. “Mavis sings it to her at bedtime.”

Eve gave up. Even for a kid-phobic cop, Bella hit irresistible.

Her mother sat at a patio table, one hand on the growing Number Two and the other holding a glass of what looked like lemonade with a sparkle.

Leonardo sat beside her in a flowing, sleeveless shirt over flowing cotton pants. He looked like a man absolutely content with his world.

Despite the baby bump, Mavis sprang up, gave a bounce on the purple sneaks that matched her current hair color.

“We were hoping!”

She didn’t leap into Eve’s arms, but threw her own around her. “You look washed, both of you. You’re going to sit down, stretch out your legs, have some wine.”

“I really should—”

“Have some wine before we put our spanking new grill to work making burgers—with cow meat provided by Roarke. We’ve got real potatoes, too. Not from the garden, yet, but real ones.”

“Woo. I’ll make fries. Fresh, hand cut.”

“We’ve got some in the AutoChef. Peabody, you’re washed and wasted.”

“Just the idea of burgers and fries perks me right up. So does the chance to cook in my own gorgeous kitchen.”

“Then I’ll make a salad—and that is from our very own mag garden. But first, wine for everybody.” Glowing with happy, Mavis patted her baby bump. “Except me, Number One, and Number Two.”

---