Golden in Death

He’s shattered, and he’s trying to remember if he kissed her goodbye that morning. Did he say he loved her, did he kiss her goodbye, because she’s gone. And I thought, I was pissed, and I walked out. I didn’t kiss you goodbye. I didn’t tell you I love you. And damn it, who knows better than I do that everything can change, can break, and you never get that chance again?” “My darling Eve.” He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “It’ll happen again. It may be you who’s pissed and walks out. So I want to say when it does happen, either way, to remember this right here.” She cupped his face in her hands, kissed him. “Just remember.” “And you.” He kissed her back

Poison’s generally a woman’s weapon.” “Sexist.” “Statistics,” she countered.

He couldn't lead himself out of a room made of doors.

Darling? Spare a minute?” She came back, her ’link pressed, screen down, to her chest. And hissed, “Don’t call me darling when I’m talking to cops.” “Sorry, Lieutenant Darling.” She rolled her eyes. “What?

You have the right to remain silent. You also have the right to put on pants before I cuff you and have you taken into Central.

Morris stepped back, blinked. “Well, look at you.” “What?” Thrown off, Eve glanced down at herself. “You look gorgeous.” She’d have been less shocked if he’d stabbed her with his scalpel. “I— What?” “Like a perfect spring day,” he added as he walked over to clean his hands. “I calls ’em as I sees ’em.

He’d look at her the way he looked at her that always, still, probably forever, brought a skip to her heartbeat. He’d make her eat something, even if she didn’t want to, which was both annoying and precious. And he’d listen. No bitching about her being late, no guilt trips. He’d listen, offer to help and, with all of that, with all of him, bring her a peace of mind she’d never expected to have in her life. So when she drove, at last, through the gates, she felt that quiet click. Coming home. Under the night sky, the house Roarke built stood and spread and towered with its fanciful turrets, its grand design. Dozens of windows, so much light to welcome her, glowed out against the dark. When she pulled up, got out of the car, some of the weight shifted. Work to do, yes, but home.

I never get to have the fun. I bet there’s hair and fiber in there, and I’ll be right on the scene.

She didn’t want Rufty to sit in the box, wanted more private than the lounge.

What’s a momentary annoyance or past issue for one is a deep and abiding insult to another,

It’s worse when they believe the lie—convince themselves it’s true, keep beating you over the head with it until you start wondering if you’re the one who’s crazy.

I didn’t kiss you goodbye. I didn’t tell you I love you. And damn it, who knows better than I do that everything can change, can break, and you never get that chance again?

She shrugged. “I could write a book of sayings that should actually be sayings if people didn’t keep killing each other.

Alone, Eve wondered how anyone managed to work in a room without a window. Then she wondered, with all of those books … Maybe they were his window.