Shadows in Death (In Death #51) - J.D. Robb Page 0,45
had spared him from the boot or the fist, but that early skill had kept him breathing.
Why in hell had Cobbe wanted such a man as Patrick Roarke for a father? Simple enough, Roarke decided. Whether or not they shared blood, they were much the same under the skin.
Ah well, he mused, it would come down to it after all these years, and this time, he’d neither run nor walk away. He had more, much more, to lose now than he had when he’d left Cobbe stunned—but breathing—on the floor of that bar in France.
It had to end here. And so it would.
He pulled out his ’link when it signaled, read the name of one of those old mates on the display.
“Brian,” he answered. “Have you anything for me then?”
After the conversation, he filed away what his friend passed on. He took the meeting, and afterward watched with real pleasure as instruments were delivered and unpacked in the music room.
When he stepped outside, he scanned the street as his own car and driver pulled up.
He saw no sign of Cobbe, and continued on to his last stop before home.
He got out in front of Mira’s pretty house on its quiet street. They’d potted flowers beside the door, he noted. Deep purples and sharp reds in bold statements with something like foaming lace and some tender green vine just beginning to spill over the edge.
As much as he liked and admired the Miras, he saw this visit as duty—something to get through.
Once done, he wanted home.
He watched the street as he rang the bell. He’d have known if he’d been followed. And if he’d missed it, his driver—one of his best—wouldn’t have.
But still, he watched until the door opened.
Dennis Mira, with his hair carelessly mussed, his eyes kind and green, opened the door. He wore house skids and a red cardigan with a missing button.
“Come in, come in. So good to see you! Charlie said you were coming by.”
“It’s always good to see you, Dennis.”
Just as the house always felt like welcome with its pretty colors and quiet, casual dignity.
“How about a beer?” Dennis gave Roarke a friendly slap on the back as he led the way into the living area. “She won’t make a fuss if you have one with me.”
“I’d love one, thanks.”
“Have a seat, and I’ll get them. Charlie’s …” He looked around vaguely, as if expecting to see her. “I think she went upstairs to change. She hasn’t been home long. I’ll find her.”
When Dennis wandered off, Roarke moved to the window, scanned the street yet again.
Quiet, he mused, and the traffic that went by moved smooth.
He turned as Mira came in wearing pale gray pants and a light pullover as softly blue as her eyes.
“I thought I heard the door.” She walked straight to him, took his hands, kissed his cheeks. “Where’s Dennis?”
“He went off to get us a beer.”
“Hmm.” She gestured Roarke to a chair, took the sofa, curled up her legs. “I spoke with Rochelle today. She says you’re loading in the last of the furniture at An Didean.”
“We are. I’ve just come from there.” He looked over as Dennis came in with a tray holding two pilsners, a glass of white wine, and a tray of crackers, cheese, nuts, olives.
“There you are, Charlie. I thought you’d earned a glass of wine. She had a long day,” he told Roarke.
“And I’m adding to it.”
“Not at all. We would’ve happily come to you.”
“I was out and about, and you’re nearly on my way home in any case.”
With a nod, Mira picked up her wine. “Are you comfortable with Dennis here?”
“Of course.” Roarke ordered himself to relax, took up his beer. “Always.”
“You may not be aware that Eve, Peabody, Reo have Tween’s confession, and made a deal with his attorney. He’ll do fifty years, and gave them what he knows about Cobbe.”
“Not all the details, but Nadine broke the story shortly before I got here.”
“Eve must have tipped her.” Mira nodded again. “Which means Eve must be with the family, or she wouldn’t have let it break. Tell me your first memory of Lorcan Cobbe.”
He hadn’t expected the question, or one like it. It took him a moment, then he realized his instinctive answer wasn’t accurate. “On Grafton Street in Dublin, watching me. I’d forgotten that. I was with Brian and Mick and Jenny, working the tourists as we did. I recall not liking it, but then he moved off. It would’ve been the next day,