Page 81 of Fury In Death

“No. It’s okay, just need a second. I needed to be home.” She breathed away the tears. “I needed to see you. I just needed to see you, hear your voice. I needed to sit here, just like this, to tell you all I’ve told you. And I didn’t know, until right now, just how much I needed you to say that.”

“You’re never alone in this, Eve.”

“You had your long, illustrious career. I had my long, mostly alone work. I guess we both needed that to get here. And now we have something better.”

Steady again, she picked up the wine, topped off his glass as he had hers.

“Demolitions expert,” she continued. “Money’s not a problem. Someone in New York or who can travel here fast. They wouldn’t have risked much time. And someone who wouldn’t quibble about blowing up a building where people slept.”

“I’d wager they have one on the payroll.”

She frowned. “Do you?”

“I don’t, no, but could bring one in quickly if needed. I don’t believe any I’d bring in, known to me, would commit mass murder for money. And it may be they brought in someone from the outside. They’d have some on staff, as they often take down a building or structure in order to build something else. They might essentially raze a village in order to build one in their style.”

“Which is?”

“Modern, on the simple side, and without troubling themselves with local architecture or culture. But safe, secure, and solid. A trade-off, if you will. Or a trademark, as there’s a kind of sameness that identifies it as a Banner-Wyst company town.”

“Got it. Well, maybe you could find me a couple demolitions experts who’d kill for profit.”

“I’ll have a look.”

“I should tell you.” She went back to her chips. “Wyst filed a complaint against me.”

Roarke smiled. “Pushed him a bit, did you?”

“Hardly a nudge, but he didn’t like it. Had security escort Peabody and me out, and contacted Tibble to bitch. Accused me of harassment—naturally—and of trying to undermine his company to enhance the business of my husband.”

His smile vanished.

“Bugger that. What fecking bollocks. Desperate fecking bollocks at that. A bloody insult to us both. And I’m not about insulting you, as I know you can handle yourself, but I’m more than willing to tell Tibble and anyone else, come to that, I’ve no bleeding interest or need to have my wife, a decorated police lieutenant, undermine Banner-fucking-Wyst on my behalf.”

Eve nodded soberly, finished her fish. “It’s a good thing we’re having fish and chips and the weird, somehow tasty peas. Because that rant was really Irish.”

She picked up one of her last chips. “I think you’ll be pleased to know that Tibble and Whitney trust and respect both of us—as apparently does the mayor. They recognize desperate fecking bollocks when they hear it.

“Jacob Wyst is scared.” She leaned in a little. “And he’s scared of both of us.”

“Well now, that goes down as brilliantly as this meal. I’ll do the clearing, then I’ll find you some demolitions experts with no morals.”

“That’d be good. I should tell you—outside of work and insults—Peabody’s family got in this evening.”

“She must be thrilled. It’ll be lovely to see Sam and Phoebe again, and Zeke as well. We’ll enjoy meeting the rest of them.”

“There are a lot more of them. I lost count because I tuned out, but her sister, other brother, their families, grandparents, and blah blah. And I think McNab’s group’s coming right behind them.”

“And so you’ll take a bit of time for a party that means much to your oldest friend, to your partner and friend.”

Really, what choice did she have? “Everyone’s juiced up over it. And Peabody started on the food today, like what they’re having. She said they’re cooking it all.”

“I knew that, as Summerset’s going over early to help them.” Roarke smiled again as he lifted his wine. “He’s juiced up himself.”

She shuddered. “I really don’t ever need to see a juiced-up Summerset. I’ve got a list to run.”

She rose. “Do you know a Melody Donahue?”

“Not offhand, no. Is she in this?”