"That's not our problem. Put it back."
"Of course, Lieutenant." He laid it with the others.
***
It took Eve more than an hour to get through the feeding frenzy of the media. But it didn't surprise her to find Roarke in her office when it was done. He was kicked back in her chair, his elegantly shod feet on her desk while he fiddled with his PPC.
"You have an office of your own," she reminded him.
"I do, yes, and it has a great deal more ambiance than yours. Then again, a condemned subway car has more ambiance than yours. I watched your media bout," he added. "Nice job, Lieutenant."
"My ears are ringing. And the only feet that are supposed to be on my desk are mine." But she left his there, sat on the corner.
"This is tough on the Whittiers," he commented.
"Yeah. It's a hard line they've drawn. I guess it's not easy, whatever the circumstances, to turn your back on your son. Junior's not going to sponge off Mom and Dad for his legal fees. He's going down, all the way down, and they have to watch it."
"They loved him, gave him a good home, and he wasted it. His choice."
"Yeah." The images of Andrea Jacobs and Tina Cobb held in her head a moment, then she put them away. "Just answer one question, no bullshit. You didn't switch that diamond, did you?"
"You wired?" he said with a grin.
"Damn it, Roarke."
"No, I didn't switch the diamond. Could have-just for fun, of course, but you get so cross about that sort of thing. I think I'll buy you a couple of them though."
"I don't need-"
"Yammer, yammer, yammer," he said with a wave of his hand, and had her eyes going huge. "Come sit on my lap."
"If you think that's even a remote possibility, you need immediate professional help."
"Ah well. I'm going to buy some of those diamonds," he continued. "They need the blood washed from them, Eve. They may only be things, as Laine Gannon said, but they're symbols, and they should be clean ones. You can't resolve death, as you said. You do what you can. And when you wear the stones that cost all those lives, they'll be clean again. They'll be a kind of badge that says someone stood for the victims. Someone always will. And whenever you wear them, you'll remember that."
She stared at him. "God, you get me. You get right to the core of me."
"When I see you wear them, I'll remember it, too. And know that someone is you." He laid a hand over hers. "Do you know what I want from you, darling Eve?"
"Sweet-talk all you want, I'm still not sitting in your lap in Central. Ever."
He laughed. "Another fantasy shattered. What I want from you is the fifty years and more I saw between the Gannons today. The love and understanding, the memories of a lifetime. I want that from you."
"We've got one year in. Second one's going pretty well so far."
"No complaints."
"I'm going to clock out. Why don't we both ditch work for the rest of the day-"
"It's already half-six, Lieutenant. Your shift's over anyway."
She frowned at her wrist unit and saw he was right. "It's the thought that counts. Let's go home, put a little more time into year two."
He took her hand as they walked out together. "What's done with the diamonds until they're turned over to whoever might be the legal owner?"
"Sealed, logged, scanned and locked in an evidence box that is locked in one of the evidence vaults in the bowels of this place." She slanted him a look. "Good thing you don't steal anymore."
"Isn't it?" He slung a friendly arm around her shoulders as they took the glide. "Isn't it just?"
And deep, deep under the streets of the city, in the cool, quiet dark, the diamonds waited to shine again.
About the Author
NORA ROBERTS is the number-one New York Times-bestselling author of more than one hundred novels. There are more than two hundred million copies of her books in print.
J.D. ROBB is the number-one New York Times-bestselling author of seventeen novels of futuristic romantic suspense featuring Lieutenant Eve Dallas and Roarke.
NORA ROBERTS and J.D. ROBB share a house in Maryland, a husband, and a web-site that you can visit at www.noraroberts.com.
The End
J D Robb - Dallas 18 - Remember When Page 51