by J. D. Robb
They were also full of advice.
You have to get Magdelina’s Symphony For Giving Life! I’d have been lost without it. So empowering.
Water births are the only way to go. I had both of mine in a birthing lagoon. It’s a religious experience.
Take the drugs.
And that one, Eve thought, was the most sensible statement of the day.
With a frosty bellini in her hand, Nadine Furst—ace reporter and soon-to-be host of her own crime-beat show—wandered over. “You give a good party, Dallas. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mavis look happier. She’s literally radiating.”
“Wait, she could start bawling any minute.”
“Hormones.” Nadine shrugged. She was wearing her streaky blonde hair sleek these days around her sharp face. “Wanted to talk to you.”
“Hair looks great, fantastic shoes, and I’m sure whatever man you’re currently banging is handsome and wise. Does that cover it?”
“No, but you got three out of three. We’re fine-tuning the format for my show, and the producers and I thought it would just top it off if we had a monthly segment with you. An intense hour every four weeks that not only focuses on whatever case you’re working, but gives a roundup of what you’ve handled through the month.”
Nadine lifted her glass in a kind of toast before she sipped. “Adds a nice punch to the format, and it’s good exposure, good PR for the NYPSD.”
“A monthly deal? Let me think about it a minute. No.”
Nadine merely sipped her drink, cocked a brow. “Which is exactly what I told my team you’d say. So I have this alternative, which I think would suit us both. A monthly segment with Homicide. Someone in your division comes on every four weeks. All you have to do is assign the detective, give me the heads-up so I can prep. It’s good screen, Dallas. And it gives the viewing public a face.”
“Maybe.” The reality was there had to be some give and take with the media, and the plus was Eve knew she could trust Nadine to give a balanced view. “Something like that I’d have to run by the brass.”
“You’re still first up.” She tapped Eve’s shoulder. “The one you’re working now would have a kick. Two lovers—young, attractive, and seemingly ordinary—bound, tortured, and killed. How’s it going?”
“That’s what I like about you, Nadine. You know how to make party conversation.”
“Would you rather talk about childbirth and breast-feeding?”
“I’d rather be stabbed in the eye with a burning stick. It’s going. You got any dish on a Walter Cavendish? Rich lawyer.”
“No, but I can poke around.”
“How about the Bullock Foundation?”
“Huge. Donates mucho moolah, funds programs, gives grants. London-based with a worldwide reach and some off-planet interests. Headed now by Bullock’s widow and second wife, who enjoys the limelight, and her son, who’s rarely far from her side. Just what does the respected and generous Bullock Foundation have to do with two dead accountants?”
“That’s the question.”
Because she saw Peabody rushing over and knew she was about to be tossed back into Babyland, Eve grabbed a bellini for herself.
“We have to do the games.” Peabody had a gleam in her eye that might have come from the bellinis, or the overdose of estrogen.
“Go ahead,” Eve told her.
“Nuh-uh! You have to run them. If I do it, I can’t play. I wanna play.”
“Don’t look at me,” Nadine said when Eve turned to her.
“Oh, hell. Fine, great. I’m on it.”
She’d run ops, she ran a squad of detectives. She could handle a hundred women over a bunch of stupid games.
They were insane, Eve discovered within the first fifteen minutes. The room was packed with women who were psychotic and certifiable. Screaming, shouting, laughing like mental patients over the race to decipher each rubric she held up.
She wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t be forced to subdue a brunette who looked big enough to be carrying triplets.
“Cradle Robber!” The woman screeched out.
“Okay, good. You got it. Settle down.” Eve pressed a finger to her eyes, breathed, and prayed she’d make it through the next two rounds without becoming a gibbering idiot.
At last she got a break as the victor insisted on being hauled to her feet to waddle over to inspect the prizes and select her spoils.
“Dallas?” From her throne, Mavis reached up for Eve’s hand.
“You need something? You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m better than good. It’s just Tandy’s not here. I don’t know what could’ve happened. I tried her place, and her pocket ’link, but she’s not picking up. Maybe she went into labor, but I tried the birthing center, and she hasn’t checked in.”
“Maybe she forgot.”
“Just couldn’t. Last time I talked to her she was all about it. I’m kind of worried.”
“Don’t be.” A worried Mavis could turn on a dime into a blubbering Mavis. “Listen, she was pretty close to popping, right? Maybe she was just too tired or whatever. She turned off her ’links and took a nap. Try her again later.”
“Yeah, maybe. Sure, she’s fine. Just needed to rest. I hate that she’s missing it. It’s the ult party. Everything’s just frosty, and she was really looking forward to it.”
When Mavis started to water up, Eve crouched beside her. “Hey, don’t get upset. We’ll, um, we’ll put some cake away for her. And one of the favor things.”
“That’d be good. I’m never going to forget today, Dallas. Not if I live to be a zillion and five.”
“Just relax and enjoy. I’ve got to start the next round.”
Crazed game-playing females were slightly less scary than an emotionally wound-up, extremely knocked-up Mavis.
She got through the games, and with Peabody happily volunteering to deliver the booty, the party shifted to the present portion of the program.
Hoping to distance herself from the coos and squeals that broke out each time Mavis ripped at wrapping paper, Eve dropped into a chair across the room. Moments later, Mira joined her.
“Quite a celebration.”
“How do they stay so charged?” Eve wondered. “I was afraid I’d have to put on my riot gear.”
“Babies, particularly when they’re so wanted, bring unparalleled joy. And for us, for women—whether or not we choose to have them—we know we’re the only ones capable of bringing them into the world. We’re the power.” She patted Eve’s hand. “You’ve done a lovely thing for your friend.”
“I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pull it off. Not sure I would have without Peabody cracking the whip. It’s been worth it.”
“Like sixteen hours of labor?” Mira said with a smile.
“Oh, God, why? Why do they revel in talking about all that? It’s creepy.”
“It’s the power, and the love. And each experience is unique, no matter how long the human race has propagated. It’s intimate and astonishing, and it binds us as women. One day, when you’re ready, you’ll know.”
“Seeing all this—and that birthing class I had to take—it’s pushed the idea—which is actually more of a concept—way, way down on my to-do list.”
“When you’re ready,” Mira repeated. “I like watching them. Women. The different sizes and shapes, the colors. The dynamics that form. Look at Louise and Nadine, sitting over there with their heads together. And Mavis’s friend Trina, huddled with those two women. Probably giving them hair and skin-care advice for during pregnancy. And Peabody, hauling gifts in her efficient way, so happy to be useful. Mavis on her throne—a charming concept, by the way—looking so healthy and vital.
“And here we sit, you and I. The observers.”
“A lot of it, for me, is like watching aliens. Still, not without it’s entertainment value,” Eve admitted. “Take that blonde over there, in the red dress. Her feet are killing her. But people complimented her shoes, and she claimed they were comfortable
. Now she’s stuck. And the brunette—short, green skirt? She keeps wandering back to the food table. She takes this little sliver of cake each time. Hit it about a dozen times now. But she can’t just go and take a human-sized piece straight off. She tells herself the sliver doesn’t count.”
When Mira laughed, Eve relaxed into a game she knew how to play. “And Trina? First, let me thank God she’s been too busy to corner me about my hair. She’s soliciting clients—no point letting an opportunity like this go by. But at the same time, she’s rarely more than three feet away from Mavis. Watching out for her. Brought her a fizzy, some cake. Went with her every time Mavis made one of her countless trips out to pee.”
“She told me she had a new product that, quote, ‘Kicks the ass out of winter dryness.’ She even gave me a sample. Ah, Mavis is about to open Peabody’s gift. I can’t wait to see it.”
“She’s nervous. Peabody,” Eve added. “Standing there sweating, afraid Mavis won’t like it as much as she hoped. Giving gifts is torture.”
But when Mavis lifted the lid on the box, there was a stunned look on her face, followed by a collective gasp by those close enough to see the contents.
“Oh, Peabody!”
And the awed, almost reverent joy in Mavis’s voice told Eve her partner had hit the bull’s-eye.
She lifted out, gently, the little booties and hat done in a rainbow of pastels. It seemed to Eve every woman in the room went gooey. And when Mavis took out the blanket, there were exclamations, and fingers reaching out to touch and stroke.
“It’s lovely,” Mira commented. “Absolutely lovely. She’s just given Mavis an heirloom.”
Obviously thrilled, Mavis managed to level herself out of the chair to grab Peabody in a giddy hug. Flushed and shiny, Peabody accepted the compliments.
“Um, since you’re up,” Peabody began. “You got one last gift coming from your hostess. Dallas?”
“Jeez. That’s my cue.” Eve set her drink aside, crossed the room. Since Peabody had nagged her brainless on just how it had to be done, Eve took one edge of the cover as Peabody took the other.
When they whipped it off the chair, Mavis actually slapped her hands to her heart. “Holy shit! Holy shit! It’s the exact one I wanted. Oh, oh, look at the colors! And I’ve been sitting in it this whole time. Dallas!”
It was Eve’s turn for a hard hug. “It’s the ult in rocker systems. The absolute! You didn’t have to give me a present. The party was enough.”
“Now you tell me.” It was the exact response needed to make Mavis laugh instead of cry. “Go ahead, take it for a spin.”
When it wound down and thinned out, and there’d been no catastrophes, no emergency child-birthing procedures, and happy faces all around, Eve figured she’d scored a winner.
She also figured on dumping herself into a hot jet tub with a double bellini until she was comatose.
“The guys are heading back,” Peabody announced. “They’re going to load up your haul, Mavis. Leonardo, McNab, and I will get it all up to your apartment.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” Trina told her. The beauty consultant had her hair in a complicated pattern of braids and curls today, and in showy magenta. She turned her eyes on Eve. “You’re due for a treatment.”
“Don’t start on me. I’m riding on alcohol and sugar.”
“You did good. You get a break. Sit down, Mav, take a load off.”
“I’m too juiced. I can hardly wait till Leonardo gets a load of all this stuff. It was the best of the best, Dallas. And now I’ve got to ask you for something else.”
“We forgot something?” She glanced around. “There can’t be another baby item left in Manhattan.”
“No, it’s about Tandy. She’s still not answering. It’s like hours now, and I keep seeing her in her apartment, in labor. I want to go by. Would you come with me. Please?”
“You’ve had a really big day,” Trina reminded her. “You should go on home and rest.”
“I just can’t, not until I make sure she’s okay. She doesn’t really have anybody. And I…I’ve got so much of everything.”
Sensing a new jag, Eve stepped in. “Sure, no big. We’ll run by there, and I’ll take you on home after.”
Which meant a long delay in becoming comatose, but it got her out of hauling presents out of the house. Of course, it meant she was now solely responsible for a tired, emotional, churned-up pregnant woman.
“Don’t have the baby on my watch, Mavis,” Eve warned as she loaded her friend into her vehicle.
“I’m solid, don’t worry. Just a little tired. And I know I’m probably being a zero about the Tandy thing, but I can’t help it. She’s been like my knocked-up buddy for months now, and I talked to her just a couple days ago. It was all ‘I can’t wait till Saturday,’ and how she’d sprung for this new outfit for the shower. She wouldn’t have forgotten about it, Dallas.”
“Okay, so we’ll check on her. If she’s not home, we’ll talk to a couple of her neighbors. She went into baby mode, one of them probably knows.”
“Sure, sure. Could be she went to a different center for some reason. The midwives work at more than one. That’s probably it. Wow, she’s probably had her baby! Or she’s having it now.” Mavis began to rub her belly. “I might be up next.”
“Just not today, okay?” she slanted Mavis a leery eye. “Absolutely not today.”
“No way! I want time to play with all the gifts, and put all the little outfits away, and make it all abso perfect before little Roofus or Apricot come along.”
“Roofus? Apricot?”
“Just trying them out.”
Eve glanced at her friend. “My advice? Keep trying.”
12
AFTER SHE LED EVE TO TANDY’S APARTMENT door, Mavis shifted from foot to foot. “Gotta pee again. My bladder feels about the size of a chickpea lately, and what there is of it keeps getting kicked.”
“Just…think about something else.” Eve knocked. “Don’t bounce like that. It can’t possibly help, and you might shake something loose.”
“She’s not answering. I really, seriously, completely need to pee.”
Changing tactics, Eve turned and knocked on the door across the hall from Tandy’s. Moments later, the door cracked open to the security chain, and a woman peered out the crack suspiciously.
“What?”
“Hey, Ms. Pason! Remember me? I’m Tandy’s friend, Mavis.”
“Oh, yeah.” The eyes warmed fractionally. “You’re looking for Tandy?”
“Uh-huh. She missed my baby shower, and didn’t answer the ’link, so I was…Wow, Ms. Pason, I really have to pee.”
“’Course you do. Come on in and use the bathroom.” She unhooked the chain. “I don’t know you,” she said, pointing a finger at Eve.
“This is my friend, Dallas. She gave me the most magolicious baby shower today. I’ll be right back.”
Ms. Pason folded her arms as Mavis dashed off. “I don’t like letting strangers in.”
“I don’t blame you. I can wait in the hall.”
“It’s okay, this once, since you’re her friend. Tandy and Mavis are nice girls.”
“You seen Tandy lately?”
“Couple days ago, I guess. We left for work at the same time.”
“That would have been…”
“Wednesday, Thursday?” Ms. Pason shrugged. “One morning’s the same as the next. And I keep my nose out like I expect people to keep theirs out of mine.”
“Good policy.”
“Gosh, thanks, Ms. Pason.” Mavis beamed a smile when she came back in. “You’re a lifesaver. Did you maybe see Tandy today?”
“No. Couple days ago, like I told your friend here.”
“A couple days?” Mavis reached out, gripped Eve’s arm. “Dallas.”
“Stay calm. Anybody come see her since you saw her that morning?” Eve asked Ms. Pason.
“Didn’t notice. I keep—”
“Your nose out, yeah.”
&n
bsp; “Dallas, we need to go inside. We need to go into Tandy’s. You could use your master.”
“Master what?” Ms. Pason demanded. “You can’t just go around going into people’s homes.”
Eve pulled out her badge. “Yeah, I can.”
“You’re the police? Well, why didn’t you say so? You think something happened to that nice girl?”
“No,” Eve said quickly. “But since she’s not answering her ’links or her door, and you can’t remember seeing her today, it may be best to check her apartment. Maybe Mavis can wait here.”
“I’m going with you.” Mavis clung to Eve’s arm. “I want to go in, make sure.”
“Fine, fine.” And if Tandy objected to having her premises entered without a warrant or probable cause, it was just as well to have Mavis there to run interference.
Eve knocked again, then pulled out her master. “Tandy, if you’re in there it’s Dallas, and Mavis. We’re coming in.” She uncoded the locks, eased the door open.
The room was the same size as the one across the hall, which meant it felt claustrophobic. Tandy had it spruced up in soft colors with ruffled curtains at the single window. They were open so that a couple of live plants in white pots could soak up the winter sunlight.
On the table in front of a small sofa was a box wrapped in white paper with purple cows dancing over the surface. It was topped by a huge purple bow.
“See, that’s my gift.” Mavis pointed. “I told her how cute that paper was when I was in the baby store a few weeks ago. Tandy! Tandy! Are you all right?”
The place was empty—Eve could feel it—but she let Mavis go in.
No sign of struggle, she mused as she scanned the area. No evidence of hurried departure. The place was neat, ordered, and organized.
“I’m going to check the bedroom. She’s using it for a nursery, too.” Mavis started for a door, but Eve moved past her, checked it herself.
The bed was neatly made, and beside it was a white cradle already dressed with blue sheets. A little stuffed lamb sat in it looking, to Eve’s mind, very out of place, and just a little creepy.
Why did people put farm animals in kids’ beds?