Roarke ran his hands down Eve's arms, and smiled toward the doorway. "Good morning, Peabody. Coffee?"
"Um, yeah. Thanks. Uh … it's
pretty cold out."
"Really?" Roarke said as Eve moved back toward her desk.
"Yeah, it's not supposed to get up to freezing. We might get some snow flurries this afternoon."
"What are you, the National Weather Service?" Eve demanded, then took a good look at her aide. Peabody's face was flushed, her eyes soft, her hands busily plucking at her brass buttons. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. Thanks," she said when Roarke brought her a cup of coffee.
"You're welcome. I'll leave you to work."
When he walked through the adjoining doorway and closed it off, Peabody sighed. "I don't know how you can remember your name when he looks at you the way he does."
"If I forget it, he reminds me."
Though she heard the wry humor in Eve's voice, Peabody stepped closer. "What's it like?"
"What?" Glancing up, Eve caught the intensity in her aide's eyes and shrugged uncomfortably. "Peabody, we've got work here."
"Isn't that what it's about?" Peabody interrupted. "Isn't what you've got what those two women were looking for?"
Eve opened her mouth, then shut it again. She glanced toward the connecting doors, saw that Roarke had closed them, but hadn't engaged locks on either side. "It's more than you think it can be," she heard herself say. "It changes everything, and fixes everything that matters. Maybe you're never going to be the same, and maybe part of you is always afraid of what will happen if... but he's always going to be there. All you have to do is reach out, and he's going to be there."
Surprised at herself, she slipped her hands into her pockets. "Can you find that by pumping data into a computer system and letting it run personality and lifestyle matches? I don't know. But we've got two dead women who thought it was worth a try. Pull up a chair, Peabody, and we'll see what we've got."
"Yes, sir."
"We'll run a full search of Jeremy Vandoren. Instincts aside, we need to confirm or eliminate. Once we have full data on all five matches on the Hawley list, we'll pay another visit to Personally Yours."
"Detective McNab, reporting for duty."
Eve looked over and saw Ian McNab swagger into the room. He had a big, satisfied grin on his pretty face, a knee-length vest in eye-searing fuchsia over his Christmas-green jumpsuit, and a striped ribbon of both colors binding back his long sweep of glinting gold hair.
Feeling Peabody stiffen like a flagpole beside her, Eve nearly sighed.
"How's it going, McNab?"
"It's going good, Lieutenant. Hey there, Peabody." He winked cockily then set a hip on the desk. "Captain Feeney said you could use me on this Santa case. I'm here to serve. Got anything to eat?"
"See what's in the AutoChef."
"Mag. Working for you, Dallas, has rocking benefits." He wiggled his brows suggestively at Peabody then walked over to forage breakfast.
"If you were going to use that pinhead," Peabody muttered under her breath, "why can't he work out of EDD?"
"Because I wanted to irritate you, Peabody. It's my main goal in life. Since you're here, McNab," Eve continued, "you can take over these searches. Peabody and I need to go out in the field."
"Just line them up," he said, taking a huge" bite of a blueberry Danish. "I'll knock them back."
"When you've finished stuffing your face," Eve said mildly, "run the names in the Hawley file -- all data."
"Took care of the ex last night," he said with his mouth full. "Can't find any break in his alibi so far."
"Okay." She appreciated the fast return, but decided not to mention it and have Peabody pouting all day. "I'll be sending you another list from the field -- run those names, then do a cross-check between the lists. Take a good look at the Hoffman twins, Rudy and Piper. I want anything that pops. And run this."