Roarke isn’t the only one to walk into Eve Dallas’s life in Naked in Death. At the scene of a murder, she finds a fat gray cat with dual-colored eyes. Since the owner was deceased and no family members offered to take him, Eve took home the cat that she re-named Galahad. Galahad has as much personality as any secondary character, but he has also stepped in and saved Eve’s life on more than one occasion.
A whisper of sound behind her had Eve whipping out her weapon. Crouched, eyes hard and cold, she stared at a fat gray cat who slid into the room.
“Jesus, where’d you come from?” She let out a long, cleansing breath as she replaced her weapon. “There’s a cat,” she added for the record, and when it blinked at her, flashing one gold and one green eye, she bent down to scoop it up.
An hour later, Eve walked into the station house with a cat under her arm.
“Hey there, lieutenant, caught yourself a cat burglar.” The desk sergeant snorted at his own humor.”
He whistled through his teeth. “Busy day.”
“It comes and goes,” she murmured, stroking the cat. Galahad, she thought, her white knight.
“Don’t forget Galahad. The cat saved my life. Who’d have thought?”
“Then he gets caviar for the whole of his nine lives.” Roarke snapped his fingers and the cat fell happily into step.
– Naked in Death
Eve sat, stretched out her legs. When she reached down to pet Galahad, the cat growled low in his throat. With a feline glare for Eve, he flicked his tail, leaped down, and stalked away.
He’s annoyed we didn’t take him on vacation.” Roarke smothered a grin as Eve scowled after the cat. “He and I have made up, but it appears he’s still holding a grudge where you’re concerned.”
“Name calling is no way to mend fences. Try fresh tuna. It works wonders.”
“I’m not bribing a damn cat.” She lifted her voice, certain the party in question was still within earshot. “He doesn’t want me touching him, fine and dandy. He wants to be pissed off because…” She trailed off as she heard herself. “Jesus. Where was I?”
– Reunion in Death
“And here’s my lovely wife, serving me breakfast on a Sunday morning.”
“You earned it.” She gave the cat a baleful stare as he meandered over from the spot of sunlight where he’d been curled. “You haven’t.” But Galahad sent her such a mournful look, she rolled her eyes, went back to the AutoChef and ordered him up some breakfast kibble and a small side of tuna.
“Played you,” Roarke said as he dug into his eggs.
“Maybe, but it’ll keep him from begging and sneaking while we eat. I’m thinking,” she began.
– Born in Death
Her ears were still ringing, her body to limp she didn’t think she could fight off a toddler with a water laser. The hands gliding up and down her back were lulling her gently toward sleep. She was teetering on the edge of it when Galahad, deciding all was clear, padded back into the room to leap cheerfully on her naked ass.
“Jesus!” Her jerk of protest caused him to dig for balance with his sharp little claws. She yelped, swatted, bounced, then crawled off Roarke to safety. When she twisted to check for blood, she caught Roarke’s grin and saw the cat now purring maniacally under his long, clever fingers.
There was nothing to do but scowl at both of them.
– Conspiracy in Death
“Yeah, maybe, but it makes me…” she trailed off, baffled, when she saw what he took out of the briefcase. “What the hell is that?”
“I believe it’s a cat.” With a laugh, he held the doll out to her. “A toy. You don’t have nearly enough toys, Lieutenant.”
A chuckle tickled her throat. “It looks just like Galahad.” She ran a finger down the wide, ginning face. “Right down to the weird eyes.”
“I did have to ask them to fix that little detail. But when I happened to see it, I didn’t think we could do without it.”
She was grinning now, stroking the soft, fat body. It didn’t occur to her that she’d never had a doll before – but it had occurred to Roarke. “It’s really silly.”
“Now, is that any way to talk about our son?” He glanced back at Galahad who’d taken possession of the chair again. His dual-color eyes narrowed with suspicion before he shifted, lifted his tail in derision, and began to wash. “Sibling rivalry,” Roarke murmured.
– Conspiracy in Death
She stormed upstairs, had nearly slammed the bedroom door. Then she saw the cat sitting on the bed, blinking at her with bicolored eyes.
Pressure thudded into her chest, burned in her throat, behind her eyes as she rushed forward, dropped to her knees by the bed.
He bumped his head against hers, purred like a cargo jet.
“He had her bring you.” She rubbed her face against his fur. “He had her bring you for me. God, God, I’m a mess.”
She sat on the floor, braced her back against the bed. Comfort flooded her when the cat jumped off the bed, padded into her lap. And circled there, digging thin claws into her thighs.
“Okay. Okay,” she murmured, giving him a long stroke down the back. She closed her eyes, and holding the fat, purring cat, tried to find her center again.
– New York to Dallas