Read In Death 21 - Origin in Death for Free Online Page A

done in lavenders and forest greens. "Can I get you some tea or coffee? Anything at all."
    "No, thanks. If you'd come back with Dr. Icove," Eve told her. "We'd like to speak to both of you."
    "All right. This may take a few minutes."
    "Nice," Peabody commented when they were alone. "You expect elegant, like the main level, but this is nice and homey." She looked around, taking in the sofas, the sink-into-me chairs, shelves holding family photographs and memorabilia. One wall was dominated by a nearly life-size family portrait. Icove, his wife, and two pretty children smiled out at the room.
    Eve stepped up to it, read the signature on the bottom right corner. "Her work."
    "Beautiful and talented-I could hate her."
    Eve wandered the room, studying, accessing, dissecting. Family-oriented look, she decided, with feminine touches. Actual books rather than disc copies, entertainment screen concealed behind a decorative panel.
    And all tidy and ordered, like a stage set.
    "She studied art at some fancy school, according to her records." Eve slid her hands into her pockets. "Icove was named her legal guardian through parental stipulation in her mother's will. She was six. After she graduated from college, she married Junior. They lived, primarily, in Paris for the first six months, during which she painted professionally, and had a successful showing."
    "Before or after her father's unfortunate demise?"
    "After. They came back to New York, to this residence, had two kids-she took professional-mom status after number one. She continues to paint, portraits being her primary interest, but rarely takes commissions, and donates the proceeds to the Icove Foundation, thereby keeping her professional mother status."
    "You got a lot of data in a short amount of time,"
    "Straightforward," Eve said with a shrug. "No criminal on her, not even minor brushes. No previous marriage or cohab, no other children on record."
    "If you factor out the dead parents, dead in-laws, it's a pretty perfect life."
    Eve glanced around the room again. "Sure looks that way."
    When Icove stepped in she was facing the doorway. Otherwise, she wouldn't have heard him. The carpet was thick, and his shoes made no sound over it. He wore loose pants and a pullover rather than his suit. And still managed to look as if he were wearing one, Eve noticed.
    Roarke could do that, too, Eve thought. No matter how casually attired, he could radiate authority in a finger snap.
    "Lieutenant, Detective. My wife will be here in another moment. She's checking on the children. We deactivated the domestics for the day."
    He moved to a floor cabinet, opening it to reveal a mini AutoChef. "Avril said she offered you refreshment but you declined. I'm having coffee, if you'd like to change your minds."
    "Coffee'd be good, thanks. Just black."
    "Sweet and light for me," Peabody added. "We appreciate you seeing us, Dr. Icove. We know this is difficult."
    "Unreal, more like." He programmed the unit. "It was horrible at the Center, there in his office. Seeing him like that, knowing nothing could be done to bring him back. But here, at home ..."
    He shook his head, drew out cups. "It's like a strange, sick dream. I keep thinking my 'link will buzz and it'll be Dad, wondering why we don't all have dinner on Sunday."
    "Did you often?" Eve asked. "Have dinner together."
    "Yes." He passed the coffee to her, to Peabody. "Once a week, sometimes twice. He might just drop by to see the kids. The woman? Have you found the woman who . .."
    "We're looking. Dr. Icove, records indicate everyone on your father's personal staff at the Center has been with him three years or longer. Is there anyone else, anyone he had cause to dismiss or who left unhappily?"
    "No, none that I know of."
    "He'd work with other doctors and medical staff on cases."
    "Certainly, a surgical team, psychiatrists, family services, and so on."
    "Can you think of anyone in that area of his work he may have had issue with, or who may have had