“We could do that. We could just stay home for the weekend, sleep, then do the package. A five-day package really ups the ante, but if we—”
“It’s warm in Mexico.”
Peabody laughed. “Yeah, it is—and sunny, with beaches. But a cross-continent package adds to it. You can get some pretty sweet bargains in the Bahamas if you know where to look. I’ve been checking.”
Eve drummed her fingers on the wheel. “You can use the villa on the west coast of Mexico. Roarke will get you a shuttle to and from.”
“What?” The unexpected gesture had Peabody nearly spilling her coffee. “Seriously? But no, I’m not—”
“It’s no big deal.”
“Are you kidding? It’s a mega deal.” Peabody’s stunned breath whooshed out, then in again. “A mongo mega deal. Big, giant gratitude, but I wasn’t fishing for a freebie. We’ve got some saved.”
“I know you weren’t fishing. You didn’t have your fishing face on.”
“I don’t have
a fishing face.”
“You have a fishing face.” Eve did her best to mimic it with big, innocent puppy eyes, a shy, winsome smile.
“I absolutely don’t make that face.”
“You do when you’re fishing. And you weren’t wearing that face, so you weren’t. You were wearing your worried face. If McNab’s burnt, some of the burn is from working my investigations. Take the villa, the shuttle, and the five days.”
When Eve pulled into Central’s garage, into her slot, Peabody just sat.
“Hugging would annoy you.”
“Keep your hands off me,” Eve warned.
“I’m too grateful to annoy you, even though in my head I’m giving you a big, sloppy hug. He needs a break, Dallas. He’d never admit it, but he needs a break. Thanks to the ultra of thanks.”
“It’s Roarke’s villa,” Eve said, but as she started to get out, Peabody put a hand on her arm.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
They got out, headed for the elevator. “When I get over being humbled and grateful, I’m going to start dancing. Five days at a swank villa in Mexico.”
“Dance internally.”
“I have to because doing it for real would also annoy you, and too much gratitude.” As they stepped into the elevator, Peabody’s face lit with a grin. “Okay, there it goes. My internal boogie. I’m mentally hugging you again.”
“Did you cop a feel this time?”
“Just a little one. Affectionately.”
“I’m mentally kicking my boot up your ass.”
“Right now? Even that feels good.” Unable to hold it in, Peabody boogied her hips. “O-fucking-lé!”
As the elevator stopped, filled with cops, stopped, filled with more, Eve muscled her way off, shifting to the glides.
“If we’ve finished internal dancing and ass kicking, we might take a moment to discuss a murder investigation.”
“You’re the boss,” Peabody said with mad cheer. “The maggiest of mag bosses.”