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“I thought they were crullers.”
With a laugh, Peabody set the box on Eve’s desk. “I’m celebrating with pastries because I looked really good last night. I know how the camera’s supposed to add pounds, but I didn’t look tubbo. I think it was the jacket. It’s slimming, and the way the buttons run and all, they trick the eye. And I was sitting on my ass, so that wasn’t a problem. Jesus, I was so nervous. Completely freaked.”
She dug in the box, pulled out a cruller and bit in. “Trina was great, sort of talking me down. She says you’re due for a treatment, by the way.”
“She’s due for an ass-kicking.”
“And McNab was mag, seriously mag.” Peabody licked sugar off her thumb. “But you have all those people and the cameras and if you think about how many other people are sitting home watching, you’ll throw up. Nadine was the ult, she really eased me in. But she didn’t baby me, so I didn’t come off like a moron. When we got home, McNab and I watched the segment like twelve times, and had lots and lots of celebration sex. Boy, I feel great! So what did you think when you watched it?”
“I was busy.”
The bright, beaming bounce dropped hard through the trapdoor of shock. “You didn’t…But I thought you’d—oh.”
Eve let it sit for another five seconds, but even she couldn’t be that mean. And there were crullers. “Jesus, Peabody, you’re easy. Of course I watched. I had to know if you screwed up and I needed to kick your ass, didn’t I? You didn’t screw up.”
The beam bounced back. “I really didn’t. McNab said I sounded smart and completely on top. And I looked sexy. Did you think so?”
“I dreamed of you all night. Can we move on now?”
“One more thing. Thanks for pushing me into this. I won’t be so freaky about it next time. Oh, oh, and just another thing. Mavis and Leonardo tagged us when we were on our way home from the studio, and Mavis said Belle smiled and cooed when she saw me on screen. Okay, done.” She took another bite of her cruller.
“If you’re ready to set your kudos aside, we’re in the field. Anders Worldwide.”
“The memorial’s this afternoon,” Peabody reminded her. “I don’t think Forrest will be in. Do you want me to check?”
“No. He may not be in, but I bet his admin is. And I like the drop-in. Let’s move.”
Eve grabbed her coat, considered the crullers. If she left them there, out in the open, even the box would be devoured when she got back. She could hide it, but the vultures would sniff it out, which could lead them to the candy she’d stashed where—so far—the Candy Thief hadn’t discovered it.
She snatched up the box on the way out. Better safe than crullerless.
Leopold Walsh had struck Eve as a man who manned his station, and guarded his prince whatever the crisis. She was right. He met them in his office—sober eyes, dark suit, and a black armband.
“I don’t expect Mr. Forrest today,” Leopold began. “Mr. Anders’s memorial is scheduled for two this afternoon.”
“We’re aware of that.” No offer of coffee, Eve noted, no invitation to sit. Don’t like us much, do you, Leo? “Mr. Forrest and his uncle were very close, personally and professionally. Would you agree with that assessment?”
“I would.”
“As you work closely with Mr. Forrest, you’d be privy to their dealings together.”
“Of course.”
Eve smiled. She had to admire a man who knew how to answer without saying anything. “I imagine you formed opinions regarding Thomas Anders—professionally and personally.”
“I hardly see how my opinion is relevant.”
“Humor me.”
“In my opinion, Mr. Thomas Anders was a fair and honest man who brought that fairness and honesty into business. He trusted, correctly, that his nephew would do the same.”
“The manner of Mr. Anders’s death must have caused some speculation and gossip within the organization, and its accounts.”
Leopold’s jaw tightened. “People will talk, Lieutenant. It’s human nature.”
But you don’t, she thought. No juicy office gossip for you. But you hear it, file it.
“What’s the buzz about Mrs. Anders?”
