Ceremony in Death by J.D. Robb

Author:J.D. Robb
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2010-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

chapter eleven

She made the tail end of the viewing, grateful that Roarke had come with her. It was too familiar, the same memorial parlor, the same scents, many of the same people.

“I hate this,” she murmured. “Sanitized death.”

“It comforts.”

Eve looked over to where Brenda was supported by her mother and her son while tears ran slowly down her cheeks. She had the glazed and delicate look of the heavily medicated.

“Does it?”

“It closes,” he corrected and took her cold hand in his. “For some.”

“When it’s my turn, don’t do this. Recycle the parts, burn the rest. Get it done.”

He felt the fist clutch around his heart and gave her hand a hard squeeze. “Don’t.”

“Sorry. I tend to have morbid thoughts in places like this. Well.” Her room scan stopped when she spotted Isis. “There’s my witch.”

Roarke followed her gaze and studied the imposing woman with flame-colored hair and wearing a simple robe of pure white. She stood by the viewing box beside a man a full head shorter than she. He wore a plain, almost conservative suit, also in white. Their fingers were linked.

“The man with her?”

“I don’t know him. Might be a member of her sect or whatever. Let’s check it out.”

They moved across the room and by tacit agreement, flanked the couple. Eve looked down at Alice first, at the young face, composed now. Death had a way of relaxing the features. After the insult had passed.

“She’s not here.” Isis spoke quietly. “Her spirit still searches for peace. I’d hoped…I’d hoped to find her here. I’m sorry I missed you today, Dallas. We were closed in Alice’s memory.”

“You weren’t at home, either.”

“No, we gathered at another place, for our own ceremony. The man across the street told me you’d been looking for me.” A faint smile wisped around her mouth. “He was concerned that I had a cop on my trail. He has a good heart, despite a certain imbalance.”

She stepped back to introduce the man beside her. “This is Chas. My mate.”

Training kept Eve’s eyes bland, but she was surprised. He was as ordinary as Isis was spectacular. His hair was a washed-out blond, thin in texture. His body was almost fragile, narrow in the shoulders, short in the leg. His square, unremarkable face was stopped just short of homely by a pair of surprisingly lovely deep gray eyes. When he smiled, it was with a sweetness that demanded a smile in return.

“I’m sorry to meet you under such sad circumstances. Isis told me you were a very strong and purposeful soul. I see she was right, as always.”

She nearly blinked at his voice. It was a deep, creamy baritone any opera singer would have wept for. She caught herself watching his mouth move and imagining a ventriloquist’s dummy. It wasn’t a voice that should have come out of that body and that face.

“I need to talk to you both as soon as possible.” She glanced around, wished for a discreet way to slip out and conduct an interview.

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