Page 112 of Obsession in Death

“DFS.” She took another glance back toward the bedrooms. “Damn fucking straight.”

“McNab’s nearly done,” Leonardo announced as he came in.

“Good. I want to hit some of the non-negotiables with you and Mavis. I’m going to tell you to be careful, but not to worry. She’s not going to get past the wall.”

“Not worried. See any worry?” Mavis tapped her forehead. “Smooth as Bellamina’s bottom. Careful’s the top. We’ve got good reasons for careful.” She reached for Leonardo’s hand, gave it a kiss. “Babycakes, would you open a bottle of wine? Dallas says not for her, but I could sure use a nice glass.”

“Whatever she says to do, you’ll do?”

Mavis swiped her finger over her heart, kissed it, then laid it on his lips. “Mega promise, not to be broken.”

“I’ll open the wine.”

Mavis waited until he’d moved out of earshot. “Don’t tell me to cancel the ball drop. Mega promise, so I have to if you say. Don’t say.”

“I won’t. No way she’s going to go after you there. She runs, and she goes for solo, goes for alone. You make the mega promise you’re never alone. Not at rehearsals or pre-gig or post-gig, whatever it is.”

Once again Mavis swiped her heart. “No chances. I’ve got two of the maggest of mag reasons for staying safe.” She turned as Peabody came in with Bella, both of them draped in baubles.

“There’s one of them.”

Bella held out her arms, did the toddler version of a model’s turn. “Ba-ba!”

She pulled off a gaudy bangle bracelet and, smiling sweetly, offered it to Eve.

“You think I’m going to trade?” Eve slipped the thoroughly wiped diamond back under her shirt, then crouched. “Disappointment, kid. Get used to it.”

Bella only laughed, threw her arms around Eve’s neck. “Slooch,” she said in obvious delight, and pressed her sticky lips to Eve’s cheek.

Eve sat for twenty minutes after the security team returned, amazed and baffled that Bella insisted on crawling onto and staying on her lap while she talked of procedure and code words.

Then again, maybe the kid was plotting how she’d get her hands—or her mouth—on the diamond again.

Eve took another long scan of the street when she left, then turned, studied the windows of Mavis’s apartment. Bright and colorful for the holidays, tree shining in the center of the glass.

Baubles, she supposed.

Mavis would be smart. She’d survived the street for years, and knew how to be smart. And she’d be only smarter and more careful because she had family.

As safe as possible, Eve assured herself, and got in the car.

Time to go the hell home, she thought. She, too, had family. And she wanted to be home, with her family, eating takeout soup and pie.

As soon as she figured the best way to get the hell out of this parking space.

When she walked into the house with her takeout bag, Eve had a moment of panic. Summerset—the Grim Reaper of welcome home—wasn’t lurking. Even as she started toward the in-house intercom, she caught the murmur of voices from the parlor. Another time she’d come home like this flashed through her mind. Another time, another killer, and one who’d gotten past Summerset’s guard.

Quietly, she shifted the bag to her left hand, laid her right on her weapon, and pivoted to the doorway.

She saw Summerset, at his ease, a lowball glass in his hand, the cat on his lap. A woman she’d never seen before sat across from him, with the fire snapping away in the hearth between them.

“Lieutenant.” Summerset continued to stroke the cat, only lifted his eyebrows at the position of her right hand.

“Who is this?” Eve demanded, and left her hand where it was.

“An old friend. Ivanna, meet Lieutenant Dallas. Lieutenant, Ivanna Liski.”

“I’ve heard so much about you.” Ivanna set her glass aside, held out a hand—sort of like royalty, Eve thought, extending a ring to be kissed. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

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