Connections in Death (In Death, #48)- J. D. Robb Page 0,2
glance. “Sorry.”
“No, not at all. It’s only, I know my wife and have no doubt she thought exactly the same.”
“Maybe. More or less. It’s a reasonable question.”
“At least Jake didn’t look at it and see a murder weapon.”
The creases in his cheeks deepening, Jake grinned down at Nadine. “Maybe. More or less. Anyway, you got another wave coming in, Lois. How does anybody know so many people?”
Now Roarke laughed, took Eve’s hand. “I’m beginning to think it’s a good thing I saw her first.”
“Lots of cops,” Jake said as they started out. “Other than that trip to Central, I haven’t seen so many cops since . . .” He looked at Eve. “I probably shouldn’t mention the time I was sixteen and used fake ID to get a gig in this club that got raided.”
“Did you kill anybody?”
“Nope.”
“We’ll let it pass.”
“Speaking of cops, did you know Santiago can rock a keyboard?”
“Ah . . . he plays piano?”
“Wicked,” Jake confirmed. “Renn brought his keys—the whole band’s here—and the chick cop pushed Santiago into getting down. Chick cop’s got pipes.”
“She can sing,” Nadine interpreted for Eve. “And that’s Detective Carmichael, Jake. I asked Morris to bring his sax,” Nadine added.
“Let me tell you, the dead doc can smoke that sax. Hey, there’s one of my breed.”
Looking down as Jake did, Eve saw Mavis, a fountain of pale, pale blue hair, a frothy pink dress with a short, flippy skirt, blue shoes with towering heels fashioned out of a trio of shining silver balls.
Beside her, Leonardo resembled some sort of ancient pagan priest in a flowing vest shades deeper than his copper skin. His hair showered down to his shoulders in what looked like hundreds of thin braids. At the moment, Mavis talked to—bubbled over more like—a tight little group.
Feeney—the captain of the Electronic Detectives Division wore the same rumpled, shit-brown suit he’d worn to work. Beside him stood Bebe Hewitt, Nadine’s big boss, in shimmery silver pants and a long red jacket, looking fascinated. Then big-eyed teenage Quilla was towered over by Crack. The sex club owner also wore a vest. His stopped at his waist with lethal-looking studs on the shoulders, leaving his chest and torso bare except for muscles and tattoos.
Beside him, a woman—unknown—smiled easily. She wore classic New York black and had a face made exotic by knife-edged cheekbones and heavy-lidded eyes.
“The kid’s a little young for a cocktail party,” Eve commented.
“You’re never too young to learn how to host an event, or how to behave at one,” Nadine countered. She glided down the rest of the steps and over to greet Mavis.
“The kid’s all right,” Jake said to Eve. “Giving Nadine a run.”
“Is she?”
He grinned with it. “Big time. Campaigned to come tonight, and tossed out how she could do a three-minute vid report on the party—soft-news clip. The Quill’s got it going.” He tapped his temple. “I got a couple earsful of your An Didean project, Roarke. She’s keeping her own ear to the ground there. I’d like to talk to you about that sometime.”
“Any time at all.”
“Hey, Dallas.” Mavis did a little dance on her silver balls, grabbed Eve in a hug. “This party is whipping it.” She added a squeeze for Roarke, for Jake. “All my fave people, add food and adult beverage, and it’s going on. I heard there’s jamming on the terrace. Am I going to get in on that?”
“Counting on it,” Jake told her. “How about we check out the venue?”
“I’m in.”
“I’ll get the drinks,” Leonardo said.
After Leonardo kissed the top of her fountain of hair, Mavis beamed up at him. “Thanks, Honey Bear. Check you all later.”
“I’m heading to the music.” Feeney shot a finger at Eve. “Did you know Santiago can burn up the keys?”
“I heard that.”
“Light under a bushel.” With a shake of his head, Feeney took his rumpled suit out to the terrace.
“Bushel of what?” Eve wondered.
“I’ll explain later. It’s lovely to see you, Bebe.”
“And both of you. I’m grateful, Lieutenant, for the work you and your detectives did in the Larinda Mars investigation.”
“That’s the job.”
Bebe nodded, looked down into her drink. “We all have one. Excuse me.”
“She’s taking on too much of the blame.” Nadine looked after her as Bebe slipped away.
“It wasn’t on her.”
“No.” Nadine nodded at Eve. “But she’s the boss. I’m just going to smooth that out. And send somebody with another round of drinks.”
Crack shot his eyebrows up. “Cops do bring a party down.”
The woman beside him gave him a sharp elbow. “Wilson!”