“And I prefer to give you a good boot in the ass, but I’m restraining myself.” Eve reached up, fisted her hands in her own hair and yanked until the pain cleared most of the rage.
“Okay, stand. You couldn’t sit with that stick up your butt, anyway. One you shove up it every time Subject Monroe, Charles, is mentioned. You want to be filled in, you want to be briefed? Fine. Here it is.”
She had to take another deep breath to insure her tone was professional. “On the evening of March twenty-six, at or about nineteen-thirty, I, accompanied by Roarke, had occasion to visit Areena Mansfield’s penthouse suite at The Palace Hotel, this city. Upon entering said premises, investigation officer found subject Mansfield in the company of one Charles Monroe, licensed companion. It was ascertained and confirmed that LC Monroe was there in a professional capacity and had no links to the deceased or the current investigation. His presence, and the salient details pertaining to it, were noted in the report of the interview and marked Level Five in a stupid, ill-conceived attempt by the investigating officer to spare her fat-headed aide any unnecessary embarrassment.”
Eve stomped back to her desk, snatched up her coffee, gulped some down. “Record that,” she snapped.
Peabody’s lip trembled. She sat. She sniffled.
“Oh, no.” In genuine panic, Eve stabbed out a finger. “No, you don’t. No crying. We’re on duty. There is no crying on duty.”
“I’m sorry.” Knowing she was close to blubbering, Peabody fumbled for her handkerchief and blew her nose lavishly. “I’m just so mad, so embarrassed. He told you we’ve never had sex.”
“Jesus, Peabody, do you think I put that in the report?”
“No. I don’t know. No.” She sniffled again. “But you know. I’ve been seeing him for weeks and weeks, and we’ve never…We never even got close to it.”
“Well, he explained that when—” At Peabody’s howl of horror, Eve winced. Wrong thing to say. Very wrong. But what the hell was the right thing? “Look, he’s a nice guy. I didn’t give him enough credit. He likes you.”
“Then why hasn’t he ever jumped me?” Peabody lifted drenched eyes.
“Um…sex isn’t everything?” Eve hazarded.
“Oh sure, easy for you to say. You’re married to the mongo sex god of the century.”
“Jesus, Peabody.”
“You are. He’s gorgeous, he’s built, he’s smart and sexy and…and dangerous. And he loves you. No, he adores you. He’d jump in front of a speeding maxibus for you.”
“They don’t go very fast,” Eve murmured and was relieved when Peabody gave a watery laugh.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” Eve glanced toward the connecting doors, felt a hard, almost painful tug. “Yeah, I know. It’s, ah, it’s not that Charles isn’t attracted to you. It’s that…” Where the hell was Mira when she needed her? “That he respects you. That’s it.”
Peabody crumpled her handkerchief and moped. “I’ve had too much respect, if you ask me. I know I’m not beautiful or anything.”
“You look good.”
“I’m not really sexy.”
“Sure you are.” At her wit’s end, Eve came around the desk, patted Peabody’s head.
“If you were a guy, or into same-sex relationships, would you want to have sex with me?”
“Absolutely. I’d jump you in a heartbeat.”
“Really?” Brightening at the idea, Peabody wiped her eyes. “Well, McNab can’t keep his hands off me.”
“Oh man. Peabody, please.”
“I don’t want him to know. I don’t want McNab to know that Charles and I haven’t been hitting the sheets.”
“He’ll never hear it from me. I can guarantee it.”
“Okay. Sorry, Dallas. After Charles told me, and I went back to work to take my mind off it, and found those sealed files…It kept me up most of the night. I mean, if he didn’t say anything relevant, I couldn’t figure out why you had two reports and a video disc sealed.”
Eve blew out a breath. Interpersonal relationships were tough, she thought. And tricky. “One of the reports and the disc don’t involve Charles.” Damn it, Peab