“But I'll stay out of it today,” Nadine added, and took another sip of wine. “You know what I like when you have one of these gatherings, Dallas?”

“The food and alcohol?”

“It's always first-rate, but beyond that. It's always such an interesting mix of people. I know I can sit down next to anyone here and not be bored. You've got a talent for collecting the diverse and the interesting. I was just talking with Crack,” she added, referring to the six and a half foot, tattooed sex club owner. “Now I think I'm going to sit down next to the shy and strapping Officer Trueheart and the pretty young thing he's with.”

“Cassie from Records.”

“Cassie from Records,” Nadine repeated. “I think I'd like to find out just what's going on between those two.”

Eve wandered toward the grill, where Roarke had passed the torch to Feeney, under the supervision of Dennis Mira. They were sort of an odd pair — diverse, as Nadine had said — the lanky, dreamy-eyed professor and the rumpled cop with his explosion of ginger hair.

“How's it going?” she asked.

“Got another couple orders for cow burgers, and these kabob deals.” Feeney flipped a patty.

“I don't know where they put it.” Dennis shook his head.

“Cop stomachs.” Feeney winked at Eve. “We eat what's in front of us, and plenty of it when we get the chance.”

“Somebody ought to save room for lemon meringue pie and strawberry shortcake.”

Feeney stopped with a burger on his flipper. “We got lemon meringue pie and strawberry shortcake?”

“That's the word on the street.”

“Where's it at?”

“I don't know. Ask Summerset.”

“Don't think I won't.” He flipped the burger then shoved the spatula at Dennis. “Take over. I'm getting my share before these vultures get wind.”

As Feeney rushed off, Dennis's eyes went even softer. “Is there whipped cream?”