Annoyed with herself, she picked up the wine again, sipped once. "I had to tell the parents. I had to watch their faces when I did. And Vandoren, watching him go to pieces, seeing him try to understand that his world had just fallen apart. She was a nice woman, a nice simple woman who was happy in her life, about to get engaged, and she opens the door to someone who's symbolically a figure of innocence. Now she's dead."
Because he knew her, he took her hand, unballing the fist she'd made. "It doesn't make you less of a cop because it touches you."
"Too many of them touch you and the edges get blurred. You get closer to the limit, to the time you know you're not going to be able to face another of the dead."
"Did it ever occur to you to take a break?" When her brows drew together, he only smiled. "No, of course not. You'll face the next, Eve, because that's what you do. That's who you are."
"I might be facing one sooner than I'd like." She linked fingers with the hand that held hers. "Was she the one, Roarke? His true love? Or are there eleven more?"
CHAPTER THREE
Eve circled the parking deck at the sky mall a second time. And ground her teeth.
"Why aren't these people at work? Why don't they have lives?"
"For some," Peabody said solemnly, "shopping is life."
"Yeah, yeah." Eve passed a section where cars were stacked like poker chips, six high in their slots. "Screw this." She whipped the wheel, threaded through the stacks, skinning by bumpers close enough to have Peabody closing one eye. "You know, you can buy anything you want right on screen in the privacy of your own home. I don't get this."
"Screen shopping doesn't give you the same buzz." Peabody braced a hand on the dash as Eve jerked to a stop in the fire lane right outside of Bloomingdale's. "You can't use the senses, or your elbows to jab people out of the way. There's no sport in screen shopping."
With a snort, Eve engaged her On Duty sign and stepped out of the car. Immediately her ears were assaulted with a blast of music. Christmas carols pumped, full blast, into the air. She decided that people ran inside, ready to buy anything, just to escape the noise.
Though the temperature in the computer-controlled environment hovered at a pleasant seventy-two, a light, synthetic snow swirled in the enormous dome. The windows of the department store were filled with costumed droids. Santas and elves labored away in a workshop, reindeer flew or danced on rooftops, young, golden-haired children with angelic faces unwrapped bright packages.
Behind another window, a teenage boy, decked out in the latest fashion trend of black unisuit and neon checked over-shirt, did circles and flips on his new Flyer 6000 airskate -- this year's hot-ticket item. A push of the button beside the glass would engage the recording of his excited voice hawking the skate's options and virtues, as well as its price and location in the store.
"I'd like to try one of those suckers," Peabody said under her breath as she followed Eve to the door.
"Aren't you a little old for toys?"
"It's not a toy, it's an adventure," Peabody said, reciting the tag line for the airskate.
"Let's get this over with. I hate these places."
The doors slid smoothly open and greeted them with a soothing promise:Welcome to Bloomingdale's. You're our most important customer.
Inside, the music continued to play, but at a lower volume. But the voice level rose, dozens of people speaking at once making a cacophony of sound that rose up and up, to echo off the ceiling, where angels soared in graceful circles.
It was a palace of consumption, with merchandise displayed temptingly on twelve glossy floors.
Droids and staff swept through the crowds modeling fashions, accessories, the hair- and body-styles that could be purchased in the salons. The electronic map just inside the door stood ready to guide customers to their heart's desire.
Licensed child, pet, and elderly care facilities were located handily on the main level for those who didn't care to shop with Junior, Fido, or Grandpa underfoot.
Mini-carts to carry customers, their purchases, or both were available for a small rental fee. Hourly or daily rates available.
A droid with hair in snaking, flame-colored ropes approached with a small crystal bottle.
"Keep that thing away from me," Eve ordered.
"I'd like some." Obligingly, Peabody tilted back her head so the droid could spritz some perfume on her throat.
"It's called Do Me," the droid purred. "Wear it, and prepare to be ravished."
"Hmm." Peabody angled her head toward Eve. "What do you think?"
Eve took one sniff, shook her head. "It's not you."