“No thanks. My tastes aren’t especially elevated.”
Enough of that, she decided as she walked out. Just enough of that for tonight.
She walked back to her car and headed west in vicious crosstown traffic she liked a lot better than Hale Vanderling.
When she finally reached the gates, and those gates opened, the magic happened. The weight of the day, and those to come, didn’t drop away, but it lessened. She could take a breath now, be at home now. Be at home with someone who understood her, and that weight, and wanted her anyway.
So when she stopped the car in front of the house, she took that breath.
Summerset and the cat waited when she stepped inside, but she’d expected that. Galahad padded over to ribbon between her legs.
Then stopped, arched his back.
“Look, pal, the fuzzy dog belonged to a wit, and it was before dawn. Deal with it.”
He dealt with it by turning his back and ignoring her.
“Late,” Summerset observed, “but apparently undamaged.”
She gave him a long look, not unlike what the cat had given her.
“I met a guy today who could out-snoot you. So be careful. He could yank your championship belt right off your skinny ass.”
“Perhaps I should call the cops.”
“Don’t look at me.” She headed for the stairs. “I’m over my quota of snoot for one day.”
And exhausted with it, he thought as the cat ran up the stairs at her heels. He trusted Roarke, and the cat, would tend to that.
When she turned into her office, Roarke stepped out of his.
“I see I beat you home after all.”
“Yeah.”
And looking at him, just looking at him, cut the remaining weight in half.
She walked over, wrapped her arms around him, and pressed her face to his shoulder.
“My darling Eve.” He pulled her closer, brushed his lips over her hair. “What’s all this now?”
“Nothing. Nothing really. I’m just glad to be home. I’m glad you’re here, and we’re home. Even though I have to go out again later.”
“Do we?”
“I need to talk to some of the victim’s associates once they hit the stroll. Somebody might have seen him with the suspect.”
“Of course.” He stroked a hand down her back. “Well, we’ve time before that.” He drew her back to study her face. “Had a day of it, haven’t you, Lieutenant?”
“It’s like pushing a big-ass boulder up a really steep hill. You’re making progress, but it’s by inches, and you can’t see the top yet.”
“We’ll take a walk then, out to the pond. A walk and some wine, and you’ll tell me about it.”
She looked over at her board. “I really need to—”
He used a finger to turn her face back to his. “Will it make a difference if you take a half hour?”
“No. No, it won’t make any difference. Someone’s going to die tonight, and nothing I do here can stop it.”
