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Yes, he did, she thought. “I talked to Mira.”
He took her hand now, held it.
“I don’t like the way you maneuvered me into it, even if you were right.”
He laughed at that, kissed the hand he held. “I love you, Eve. Every contrary inch.”
“I’m working it out, and I don’t want you to worry. I feel … lighter,” she decided. “I can’t talk about it now.”
“No need. Feeling lighter is enough.”
“I just want you to know, I’m getting a grip on it. I’ve got to put it away, get back to this.” She took a breath. “And I’m going to keep doing that. Putting it away, where it belongs, and getting on with who I am, what I am, what we are. You need to do the same.”
“I’m with you, Lieutenant.”
“Then I’ll bring Peabody back.” She reached for her comm just as the knock sounded on the door.
“That’s probably the food. I’ll take care of it.” Roarke walked to the door.
When it came to food, she thought, cops had noses like blood-hounds. She put her comm away, watched Peabody trot in behind the delivery team.
Then Jenkinson, Baxter, Reineke.
“Let them set it up, for Christ’s sake, before you swarm it like locusts. And leave some for the rest. Peabody.”
Looking mildly concerned she might qualify as “the rest,” and miss out, Peabody hurried over. “Most of us missed lunch.”
“I’m aware. We have an addition to the team,” Eve began, and laid it out.
Peabody’s face settled into stubborn lines that slid into a sulk. “I don’t like her.”
“You haven’t laid eyes on her.”
“I don’t care, and Teasdale’s a pussy name. A prissy pussy name.”
“Really? And Peabody’s a name that makes bad guys shiver in fear?”
“If they know what’s good for them. Besides, she’s HSO, and that makes her a prissy pussy in a bad black suit.”
Well, Eve thought, her partner had the suit right. “Deal with it, and her. Now grab a slice, then finish the board.”
She started to grab one herself but moved off when someone called her away. Instead, she found a reasonably quiet corner and began her run on Jeni Curve.
She saw Teasdale come in, take her time crossing the room. The HSO agent would have to weather the flat, suspicious looks.
“Agent Teasdale. You’re welcome to fight for a slice of the pie.”
“Thank you. I’ve eaten.”
“Suit yourself. Have a seat.”
When Whitney and Tibble came in, the noise level dropped by half.
“We’ll start in a few minutes, Chief, Commander. Most of the team didn’t manage lunch today.”
“I didn’t manage it myself,” Tibble told her. “It smells good.”
“Please, help yourselves.”
