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She looked up, scanned dark windows. “Middle of the night, middle of the winter. Cold as a bitch’s tit.” “It’s ‘witch’s.’” “Why? Doesn’t matter,” Eve said quickly. “Neither way makes sense. If somebody’s a witch, why do they put up with cold tits? I’m a bitch, and twenty-four hours ago, my tits were plenty warm.”
“I bet you’ve been to the opera,” Peabody said as she started the run on her PPC. “Twice. Then I drew the line. I’d go again when they finished building the ice palace in hell.” “I think I’d like it—I mean to at least go. The costumes, the music, the drama, and everybody all dressed up and sparkly.” “You can’t understand anything anybody’s saying, then they all die. We get plenty of that on the job.” “But if they’re doing all that in Italian—I’d want to go to an Italian opera, I think—then it’s romantic.” “I don’t get how dying’s romantic.” “Well, like Romeo and Juliet—” “Double teenage
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“The first one here,” Eve began while the computer analyzed, “in September, in Nashville. Female, early twenties, missing for fifty-six hours. Found dead in an unoccupied home by the real-estate agent and a potential buyer.” “I bet that dropped the asking price.”
“Not last night,” he muttered. “Not the night before. Night before that. Okay, okay, I’d’ve been working. I write horror novels, and right now it starts rolling for me about ten at night.” “Drew Henry Havers?” Peabody asked. “That’s right.” “You’ve scared the bejesus out of me for years.” His plain, pale face lit up like a runway. “Best compliment ever. Thanks.”
“How many pairs of boots do I have in there?” “I wouldn’t know.” “You keep buying them, so you ought to know.” She tugged the sweater on, shoved at her hair when her head came out. And he kissed her. “One of my small pleasures. Would you deny me?” She took the boots, sat down. Felt the warmth, the solid support the minute her feet were inside. “Do you know how many pairs of boots I had before I met you?” He only smiled as she rose, reached for her weapon harness—which told her he undoubtedly did. “Two, and one pair didn’t really count as they were emergency use only because they were trashed.
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“A skeeze (she kind of liked the word), a fuckhead, a dickwad. He’s all of that and a bag of rice cakes.” “Chips. It’s a bag of chips,” Peabody told her. “Chips are good. Rice cakes are crap. He doesn’t get chips.” “Oh.” Peabody frowned over it before she nodded. “That makes sense.”
“You sure can drive, Lieutenant. You sure can drive.” Eve glanced over. “That’s not a comment I get often,” she decided and bulled her way uptown.
She couldn’t help it. “Could you tell me what time it is there?” “Time? It’s . . . it’s eight-forty-five.” “In the morning?” “Of course in the morning.” Eve said, “Huh,” fascinated and a little irritated there was no time difference.
She stepped into Homicide, held a hand up to stop anyone from asking her anything, and tagged Santiago again. “NYPSD West,” he answered.
Jenkinson pushed away from his desk, went to her. Today’s neckwear sported long-eared white rabbits with orange carrots on a purple background. “Where are you getting those?” she demanded. “You’d be surprised how easy it is.
His gaze slid toward her AutoChef, and Eve resigned herself. “Go.” She tipped her head toward the machine. “Gratitude.” She eyed him as he programmed. “Want some candy to go with it?” He gave her a blank look. A blank cop look. “You got candy in here?” She jabbed a finger at him. “You know something. Now you know I know you know something, and I’d grill you like a trout if I had time.” “You doing okay, LT?” He sipped his coffee casually. “You seem a little stressed.” “Bite me, Baxter. Hardware store.”
One question,” she added as she took off her trousers, “before the quiet.” “I can handle one question.” “How can it be one hour earlier in Oklahoma than it is here, and be the same time it is here in the Bahamas? Oklahoma’s in the same damn country as we are, right? It’s America. And the Bahamas aren’t. You don’t have to be a geography whiz to know the Bahamas aren’t in the U.S. and Oklahoma is. So why, for God’s sake? How?” Christ, he adored her. Just adored every inch of her as she stood there in her underwear, radiating annoyed confusion. “Science is full of mysteries.” “It seems like
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“What is that noise?” “It’s cows, Lieutenant. Or steers. I think there’s a difference, but I’m not going to ask. There are . . . members of the cow/steer/cattle family in the trailer Carmichael opted to park next to. I really don’t think they like it in there.” “You should get away from there, in case they get out.” “I’m thinking that.” Glancing over his shoulder, he walked a few paces away. “You’ve been off-planet, right, LT?” “Yeah.” “I haven’t, but I think this is something like it.
Come home, Santiago. This time I mean it.” “Gracias a Dios. And when I think in Spanish I’m verklempt.”
“She’s coming up on her first birthday. Have you given that any thought?” “No.” Panic wanted to rise. “I don’t know how to buy a birthday thing for a one-year-old. You do it.”
