“Neither of us is going to do the investigation much good if we’re asleep on our feet. Let’s hit it fresh in the morning.”
“Take my car,” Roarke offered and Peabody’s eyes all but popped out of her head and onto her shoes.
“Really? What is this, be nice to Peabody day?”
“If it’s not it should be. You’ll save me from having to have it picked up, as I’d like to ride with the lieutenant.”
“Well, any little thing I can do.”
He gave her the code, and watched with amusement as she sauntered off. Then indulged herself with a little boogie dance around the hot red sportster.
“You know she’s not going to drive back to her place, not right away.” Watching Peabody’s happy dance, Eve fisted her hands on her hips. “She’s going to take it out on the freeway or the turnpike, open up that ridiculous engine, and end up somewhere in New Jersey, explaining to some traffic droid that she’s a cop, and on some bogus assignment. Then she’ll carom back to the city, get pulled over again, and give them the same story.”
“Carom?”
“That’s the sound that toy of yours makes. Carom. Then when McNab gets off shift, he’ll talk her into letting him take it out, and they’ll get pulled over again, have to flash their badges. And if any of the traffic droids interface, you’re going to get tagged and have to explain why a vehicle registered to you is being used by a couple of idiotic city detectives.”
“Sounds like fun for everyone. In you go, Lieutenant. I’ll drive.”
She didn’t argue. Lack of sleep had dulled her reflexes, and traffic was starting to heat up.
“You were hard on her,” he commented as he nudged the police unit away from the curb.
“If you’ve got a problem with my technique, file a damn complaint.”
“I don’t. She needed you to be hard on her. And when she gets her feet under her again, she’ll respect that. She’ll also push back.”
Eve stretched out as best she could, and shut her eyes. “That doesn’t worry me.”
“It wouldn’t. I think you’ll like her better when she starts to push.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like her.”
“No, but you think she’s weak and she’s not.” He skimmed a hand, lightly, over Eve’s hair. “You think she’s foolish, and she isn’t. What she is, is shaken, on every level, and grieving for a man she knows, at the core, isn’t worthy of that grief. So she grieves instead for the illusion. And that, I think, might be even more wrenching.”
“If you ended up naked and dead with another woman, I’d do the rumba on your corpse.”
“You can’t do the rumba.”
“I’d take lessons first.”
He laughed, rubbed a hand over her thigh. “You might very well, not that you’ll ever get the chance. But you’d also grieve.”
“Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” she mumbled, half asleep. “You cheating fuckwit putz.”
“You’d weep in the dark and call my name.”
“Call your name all right: How are things in hell, you dickless bastard? and I’d laugh and laugh. That’s how I’d call your name.”
“Christ Jesus, Eve, I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” And she smirked in her sleep. “Then I’d put all your precious shoes in the recycler, take your fancy suits and burn them in a celebrational fire, and kick Summerset out of my house on his bony ass. After which I’d have a party where we’d drink all your expensive wine and whiskey. And after that I’d hire two, no three, of the top LCs in the business to come over and pleasure me.”
When she noticed the car was stopped, she blinked her eyes open and saw he was staring at her. “What?”
“It just occurs to me that you’ve given this matter a great deal of thought.”
“No, not really.” She rolled some of the stiffness out of her shoulders and yawned. “It all just came to me in one big lump. Where’d I leave off?”