Leverage in Death (In Death, #47)

by J.D. Robb

“He bought a farm,” Eve muttered. “He bought the farm? You’re mixing up your idioms again.” “A farm. An actual farm, somewhere in Nebraska, because I made some comment that turned into a challenge in his head. So he bought this shithole farm in Bumfuck, in my name.” “You’re going to live on a farm in Nebraska?” “Jesus Christ, Peabody, did a glug of rat soup melt your brain? He’s going to do something with it, who knows what? Make it something or other and sell it or something. It’s a craphole of a house with weird craphole buildings on a bunch of scary, empty land in the middle of nowhere Nebraska.”

I mean to say, I love her—but not like that. I have a girl, a sort of fiancée. Well, I haven’t asked her yet, but I’m going to. Going through this wakes you up. But I love Willi—just not romantically. That would be … just off. I work for her, and she’s, well, older.”

“The heart wants what it wants, sees what it needs to see.” “The heart’s just a pulsing muscle without the head.”

“You do know it’s leopards that don’t change their spots, not polka dots?” “A leopard’s born, lives, and dies a leopard, so that’s that.” “That’s rather the point of the adage.” “Why need an adage on something that’s just that? It’s a waste of words. If people didn’t have stupid sayings about the obvious, they wouldn’t waste so many words and talk so damn much.”

Bony and cadaverous as ever, she thought, but he’d picked up some color in the tropics, and that threw her off. It just threw her off. Worse, it made her wonder if the tropical color extended to other areas of that skeletal frame. And the wondering made her fear a brain bleed.

Peabody looked wistfully into the rain. “I wish I spoke four languages.” “You speak two. Civilian and cop. That’s enough for anybody.

Eve looked down at the finger painting. A castle-house, Roarke, a fat cat, and, okay, Somshit. You just never knew where life would take you.

“The unrestricted love of a child is a precious gift.” “I get that.” “I thought you would tell him, was sure of it. I was wrong.” She didn’t have to ask what he meant. “I didn’t have proof,” she began, and he said nothing. “And what good would it have done, for him, if I’d told Roarke I suspected the man he thinks of as his father killed Patrick Roarke?” “I thought you would tell him,” Summerset said again, simply. “Due to—beyond our personal … friction—your duty to the law, and your loyalty to Roarke.” “Those are exactly the reasons I didn’t tell him.” “I don’t understand you.” “Guess not.” She started to continue up, stopped. “Okay, here it is, then it’s done. I believe absolutely in the law, the need for it, the rules of it, the need and rules of it that lead to justice. I’d be nothing without believing that. But that was a different time and place, and circumstances. You had no one in authority you could trust to serve and protect, to stand for you when a fucking monster threatened to rape, torture, and kill two children. He’d have followed through on that threat because there was no one to stop him. You did. Roarke’s here because you stopped Patrick Roarke, because you protected the child he was at that time, in that place, in those circumstances. That’s enough for me.” “There were no cops such as you in that time and place.”

for both of you.” “I…” Now she turned her head, stared at Eve. “I’m wearing Leonardo to the Oscars?” “Why do people say that? You’re not draping a big Leonardo all over you.

“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s never you.” “It’s never me you want to distrust,” he countered. “But there are still times, just now and then, when those cop’s eyes are on me and say different.” He rolled off her. “The heart and the brain don’t always mesh, do they? I know your heart, darling Eve, but your brain still has some mysterious corners.”

Peabody pulled an energy bar out of her bag. “I need a little … lift. Don’t want to say boost. Want?” “What is it?” “Ah, Fruity Nut Carbo Burst—with chia seeds and flax.” “I thought they made sheets and underwear and stuff out of flax.” “It’s a food and fiber plant.” “You’re telling me you’re eating something that’s used to make underwear? Why not just gnaw on your own underwear?”

“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.