Leverage in Death (In Death, #47)

by J.D. Robb

The kid’s eyes looked

glassy with pleasure as it snacked on its own thumb. “What do they get out of that?” Eve wondered as they stepped into the vacated elevator. “How good could your own thumb taste?” “It’s not the taste, it’s the sucking action. Oral satisfaction and comfort.” “So, basically, they’re giving themselves a blow job?” For a couple of seconds, Peabody’s mouth worked silently. “I … I can’t possibly answer that without feeling really dirty and weirded.”

it wasn’t rat soup. There’s maybe, possibly, a scant ten percent chance it was squirrel.” Eve pulled into Central’s underground lot. “What’s the difference?” “Squirrels are sort of cute and fuzzy. And they can have personality.” After zipping into her slot, Eve shifted in her seat. “Look in a squirrel’s eyes next time you see one scampering along like a fuzzy rat. Right in the eyes. They’re lunatics.”

Because the swallow of rat soup still sat uneasy, she locked her door before stepping over to her AutoChef. She programmed an alfalfa power smoothie, her latest hiding place for her candy stash. “Son of a bitch!” She pulled out an actual alfalfa power smoothie. “Son of candy-stealing bitch of a bastard!” Not only had the nefarious Candy Thief snatched her chocolate, he/she had taken the time and trouble to replace it with the actual item on the freaking menu. She had to respect that. When she caught the son of a bitching bastard—and she would, oh, she would—she’d hang the thief out her window by the heels. Naked. But she’d do so with respect.

His gaze drifted up; his lips twisted into a smug smirk. “What?” “Just thinking how you rag on my ties, but you got a pink unicorn in your hair.” “I—crap!” She reached up, dragged it out. “Not on purpose. Yours is deliberate.” Because she couldn’t just ditch it, she stuffed the clip in her pocket and tried to stride out with dignity.

“Were you a benevolent god or a wrathful one?” “A bit of both. Keeps them guessing.”

“You got it! Good morning, Commander! Hey, Feeney! Be right back!” Exclamation points struck every couple of words before she all but bounced away. McNab lifted his skinny shoulders in a gesture as sheepish as his smile. “She’s a little buzzed,” he explained to Eve. “She’s what?” “Departmentally approved booster,” he said quickly. “She put in a long night because, grateful—me, too—about the Oscar thing. Beyond mega thanks on that, Dallas.” “Don’t mention it. I’m fucking serious.” “Okay, but see, she gets a little hyped on the boost, but more, before I caught her, she’d dipped into our emergency stash of espresso. It’s like gold, you know—we bought it for each other at Christmas. Anyway, she took a shot of that, so she’s pretty buzzed out.” “Keep her under control,” Eve warned. “Trying.”

Eve pressed her fingers to her eyes. When Baxter and Trueheart walked in, she hoped they’d balance things out. Then Peabody came in. She’d ditched the scarf and the pink coat. Eve almost preferred them to the screaming red sweater with fussy pink flounces at the cuffs, the shiny, electric-blue jacket, and, Jesus, neon-green pants with frigging pink flowers down the sides. “Peabody.” Baxter let out a half laugh. “You look like a garden.” “It’s almost spring! Coffee!” “None for you,” Eve snapped. “Aw!” “Water,” she ordered McNab. “Only water.” “On it.” “Sit.” She pulled the pot from Peabody, who, she noted with resignation, also smelled like a garden.

He stopped by Peabody’s chair, glanced at McNab as Peabody beamed, drumming her hands on the seat of her chair in a quick rhythm. “Departmentally authorized?” “Yes, sir,” McNab said. “Absolutely, sir. We put in a long night.” “Make sure she takes a half dose next time.” “It was the espresso chaser, Commander.” Whitney shook his head. “That would do it,” he said and strode out. Peabody let out a giggle, slapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled behind her fingers. “Not funny.”

“Kiss bye!” Peabody puckered up. McNab gave her a sappy smile—before remembering himself and sending a pleading look toward Eve. “Detective Peabody! I will personally dump you in the tank and sweat that booster out of you if you don’t maintain.” The pucker dropped to a pout. “With me. Now. No ‘kiss bye,’ goddamn it.” Peabody trotted behind Eve. “I just feel so good! I can’t stop! My brain’s all full of colors!” “Your body’s covered in them. It makes my eyes throb. Get your coat and cover up the worst of it, then sit down and be quiet. I need to talk to the rest of the squad because people just keep killing people.” “That makes me sad.” “Go be sad and quiet at your desk.” Since her eyes already throbbed, Eve ran through the current caseload with Jenkinson and his psychotic rainbow tie, Reineke and his kittens on Zeus socks.

By the time she wrapped it up, she assumed Peabody had lost her sad, as her partner chair-danced to some internal beat. Sometime in the last fifteen minutes, she had applied a shiny coat of bright pink lip dye. “Stop jerking off and get your ass up.” “You bet!” Eve strode to the door, through it. Then, teeth gritted, went back to see Peabody standing at her desk, all smiles. “Jesus Christ, Peabody. With me.”

“Okeydoke!” She trotted along. “Say, Dallas, have you ever noticed—” “No. Don’t talk.” She hummed instead. Eve opted to stick with the miserably crowded elevator all the way down, as the noise level drowned out the chemically induced joy. In the car Eve drew a deep breath. Tried one more. “If you don’t pull it together, I’m going to leave you locked in the car while I conduct interviews.” “Uh-uh, partners. Ass to work off. I can’t stop!” she added with just a little hint of panic as Eve pulled out. “Part of my brain’s going, Oops, crap, why! But the rest of it’s all happy and everything’s so bright! See, look! That woman’s walking a puppy. She has red boots! I like red boots. Aw, I wish we could get a puppy! I’d name her Cuddles, and— Ow!” Shoulders hunched, Peabody rubbed the arm Eve punched. “I can’t help it.” “Try harder.”

“See, what happened is we worked really, really late because, murders and going to the Oscars. Oh, I want Nadine to win so bad! I can’t wait to see— Ouch!” “Keep it up and you’ll need body paint to cover the bruises.” “I’m just saying it’s like we only got two hours down, and then I couldn’t turn my brain off because, murders and the Academy freaking Awards! Okay, ouch. But I’m saying everything was just fuzzy this morning, and I needed to give you one hundred percent. A hundred absolute percent. So, booster. But then it didn’t feel like it worked. All fuzzy. So I thought about the espresso, and maybe it did work some because it’s crazy stupid to chase the boost with espresso. It’s the real. McNab and I splurged. I love McNab! Ian McNab is my BFF—boyfriend forever! And we— Ow, ow, ow.” “Stop talking. Stop. I get what happened. I get why it happened, which is why I’m not searching for a blunt instrument to beat you bloody with before I dump your broken body out on the street to be run over by a maxibus.” “Maybe I should take some Sober-Up. It’s not like being drunk, but maybe—” “No. Nothing else goes in. Except water.” Eve programmed just that from the in-dash. “Drink.” “I alread...

Peabody’s voice held quiet—no exclamation point. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s mostly worn off. I mean, I feel pretty energetic, but the whoopee’s about gone. I’m so sorry, Dallas.” “Forget it.” “No, seriously. The last thing you needed was me flying around on a mental trapeze. I’m embarrassed, but even more just sorry.” “Fine. If you’re so sorry, get rid of that stupid lip dye.” “What lip dye?” Peabody asked as they walked up to the car. “The one on your lips.”

Obviously baffled, Peabody flipped down the vanity mirror when she dropped into the passenger seat. Her gasp sucked up most of the oxygen in the car. “Oh my God! When did I do that? I don’t remember doing that. This is all wrong.” She started digging in her bag. “I bought this on impulse, but it’s not my color. It looks terrible on me. I tossed it in my desk drawer weeks ago.” “So your main concern is it’s not your freaking color?” “It’s not!” Peabody pulled a tiny, wet tissue out of a pack, rubbed it vigorously over her lips. Balled it up when it turned pink, pulled out a second. “And, come on, I’d never wear something called Sexcapade Pink on duty. I’m a cop!” In this case, Eve accepted the exclamation point. “Good to have you back.”

“I checked on the kid, well, the whole family, but I wanted to make sure August was doing okay. He got on the ’link to thank me for taking him to his mom. And he said—I thought you’d like to know—a ninja woman saved him.” “‘Ninja woman.’” Eve let out a snorting laugh. It hurt her bruised chest a little, but it was worth it.