“I guess they didn’t get to do that anal probe while you were in the hospital,” Eve said before Roarke could speak. “And extract that stick from your ass.”
“Eve.” Roarke pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t start.”
“Here now.” The woman who came out from the bedroom was perhaps fifty, with a long white coat over pale pink shirt and pants. She had what seemed to be cushy, round breasts to go with a cushy, round butt. They suited her face, also cushy and round. She wore her hair in ginger-colored curls pulled back into a bouncing tail.
Her voice had that peppy, behave yourself tone used by child-care workers and novice parole officers.
“Isn’t it nice to have company? But it’s time for our nap.”
“Madam.” Summerset’s tone was barbed wire. “WE do not nap.”
“We do today,” she said, unfailingly pert. “A nice hour’s rest, then an hour of therapy.”
“Eve, this is PA Spence. She’ll be seeing to Summerset’s at-home care for the next several days. Ms. Spence, my wife, Lieutenant Dallas.”
“Oh yes, a policewoman, how exciting.” She marched to Eve, grabbed her hand and pumped. The skin might have been soft, Eve thought, but the woman had the grip of a wrestler. “Don’t you worry about a thing, not a thing. Mr. Summerset’s in good hands.”
“Yeah, I bet. I gue
ss we should clear out.”
“I am not going to be put to bed like a toddler. Or spoonfed, or clucked over by this—this person.” Summerset snarled out the words. “If I can’t be left in peace in my own quarters, then I’ll go somewhere I can be left in peace.”
“Now, Summerset.” Still on the arm of his chair, Mavis, stroked his head. “It’s just for a few days.”
“I’ve made my feelings on this matter abundantly clear.” Summerset folded his lips and stared holes in Roarke.
“As I have mine,” Roarke returned. “And as long as you’re living under my roof and in my employ, you’ll—”
“That, too, can be rectified.”
“Oh, you bet your ass.”
It wasn’t Roarke’s response—one that was music to Eve’s ears—that had her stepping forward. It was the tone, thick with Ireland that warned her he was about to snap.
“Okay, everybody out. You—” She pointed at Spence. “Take five.”
“I don’t believe—”
“Take five,” Eve repeated in a tone that made even seasoned officers tremble. “Now. Mavis, Leonardo, give me a minute here.”
“Sure.” Mavis leaned over, kissed Summerset’s cheek. “It’s going to be okay, honeybunch.”
“You, too.” She jerked a thumb at Roarke. “Out.”
Those blue eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said clear out. Go down to the gym and beat up a workout droid, or up to your office and buy Greenland. You’ll feel better. Take off,” she said and gave him a good, solid nudge.
“Fine.” He bit the word off. “I’ll just go and let the two of you snipe each other to death. At least that’ll put paid to the bickering around here.”
He strode out, slammed the door.
Summerset remained, arms folded, face set. And trapped in his chair. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Good.” Eve nodded, slurped a little more flavored ice. “Keep your mouth shut. Personally, I don’t care if you roll yourself out of here in that chair, and get mowed down by a maxibus, but he does. He’s spent the last, what is it?” She checked her wrist unit. “Oh, thirty hours or so worried sick about you, arranging things, re-arranging things so you’d be comfortable, and as happy as your demon soul allows you to be. You scared him, and he doesn’t scare easily.”
“I hardly think—”