In Death 07 - Holiday in Death by J. D. Robb

Author:J. D. Robb
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-01-18T16:00:00+00:00

*** CHAPTER ELEVEN ***

The one thing that really irritated Peabody was that McNab was on her match list. It didn’t matter that it was most likely due to the fact that her profile and his had been altered to fit those of the victims’.

It just griped her.

She didn’t like working with him, with his ridiculous clothes, cocky grins, and know-it-all attitude, but figured she was stuck as long as Eve found him an asset.

There was no one on the force Peabody admired as much as Eve Dallas, but she figured even the smartest of smart cops could make one mistake. Eve’s, in Peabody’s opinion, was McNab.

She could see him across the snazzy little bar. He and the six-foot blonde he’d matched with were directly in her line of vision. A deliberate move on McNab’s part, Peabody imagined, just to annoy her while they worked.

If he hadn’t been there, she might have been able to enjoy the quietly elegant atmosphere. The bar had pretty silver-topped tables, pale blue privacy booths, and clever art prints of New York street scenes decorating the warm yellow walls.

Classy, she thought, glancing over at the long, shiny bar with sparkling mirrors and tuxedo-decked servers. But you’d expect classy from something that belonged to Roarke.

The padded chair where she sat was designed for comfort; the drinks were glorious. The table was equipped with hundreds of musical and video selections and individual headsets if a customer wanted entertainment while he or she waited for a friend or enjoyed a quiet, solitary drink.

Peabody was sorely tempted to try out the headset, as her first match was a blistering bore. The guy’s name was Oscar and he was a teacher who specialized in physics on at-home screens. So far, he’d mostly been interested in sucking down rippers and bad-mouthing his recent ex-wife.

She was, Peabody was told, a non-supporting, self-centered bitch who was frigid in bed. After fifteen minutes, Peabody was fully on the bitch’s side.

Still, she played the game, smiling and chatting while she crossed Oscar off her mental lists of suspects. The guy had a serious problem with alcohol, and their man was too clearheaded to spend his time with the awesome hangovers a few rippers produced.

Across the room, McNab erupted with delighted laughter that ran along Peabody’s nerve endings like a dull razor. While Oscar guzzled the last of his third ripper, she glanced over, and caught the quick, eyebrow wiggle McNab sent her.

It made her want to do something cool and mature. Like sticking out her tongue.

With great relief, she parted ways with Oscar, making vague plans to hook up again.

“When they sell iced rippers in hell,” she muttered and winced as she heard Eve’s voice in her earpiece.

“Maintain, Peabody.”

“Sir.” Peabody hissed the word, covering it by lifting her own virgin blitzer. She sighed, noting by her wrist unit that she had ten minutes before the next meet.

“Goddamn it!”

Peabody jolted when Eve’s voice exploded in her ear. “Sir?” she said again, choking.

“What the hell is he doing

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