Delusion in Death

I want to keep you, till the end of days.

You go in, I go in." "Listen---" He took her face in his hands. "You go, I go. That's non-negotiable. If we're to get blasted to hell or poisoned into lunatics, we do it together." "Crap, Crap. You have to look less rich and gorgeous." God help him, she made him grin. "I'll do what I can.

She woke to the scent of coffee, and wondered if that was how mornings in heaven smelled.

Marriage, she thought. Every bit as complicated and slippery as cop work.

Most people, however clever, however controlled, never hid it completely. There were chinks, clues, habits. At some point, the real person showed through the facade.

If there wasn’t coffee, the entire world would shuffle around like zombies.

propped up a little as her eyes adjusted. She hardly ever got to watch Roarke sleep. Most of the time he rose before she did. And sleep for her tended to be wandering in lucid, often disturbing dreams,

Murder could happen, she thought as she drove to Cop Central, to anyone, anywhere, anytime.

I read her file.” Voice strong and steady again, Peabody shifted back. “I know who she was, what she was. Now I know she left you with an animal. It’s good she’s dead.” Stunned, Eve turned her head, stared. “That’s not very Free-Ager.” “Fuck that.” Peabody’s eyes flashed like supernovas. “Fuck tolerance and understanding. Yeah, you’d have put her in a cage for the rest of her pathetic, evil life. But maybe sometime during her rot, she’d have put it together. Maybe she’d have remembered you. She’d have used that on you; she’d have tried. Before you scared the piss out of her, if you could get to her before Roarke. If he could get there before me. And it’s good she was such a selfish, pitiful excuse for a human being so she didn’t remember you, didn’t think about you all those years. She might’ve recognized you, especially after Roarke. She might’ve seen you on screen, and recognized you, caused you more grief and trouble. Dead’s better.