Very froze. “Did you just say Yolie? Sergeant Snipes is Yolie Snipes?”
“Yeah, why?”
The lieutenant got a dreamy, faraway look on his face. “Woo…”
Mitch frowned at him. “Woo…?”
“Just make the call, dude.”
She got there in twenty minutes.
Mitch went out to greet her as she climbed out of her cruiser. “Thanks for coming, Yolie.”
“No prob, hon. I was intrigued by your message. So mysterious.” Yolie flashed a sly grin at him. “Plus I was hoping to accidentally run into Dorset’s resident trooper.”
“Des isn’t here.”
“She will be five minutes from now. Just spoke to her on the phone.” Her gaze fell upon Mitch’s visitor, who was lingering somewhat bashfully in the cottage doorway. “Who’s the biker boy?”
“It’s Very.”
“Very what?”
“Very Very. That’s his name. He’s a police detective from New York City. Told me he’s been trying to get you on the phone.”
“Oh, right. I do have a gazillion messages from some lieutenant named, like, Romeo Very.”
“Romaine.”
“Mitch, I don’t need a New York City hot dog sticking his nose in my case.”
“I understand completely. But you may want to talk to him. He was tight with your murder victim. Seems to think he has information that can help.”
Yolie heaved a sigh of annoyance before she waved Very on over.
He approached her slowly, the two of them sizing each other up like middleweights in a ring.
“You the detective who’s been calling me?”
“That’s me.” Very showed her his shield. “And you’re Yolie Snipes. No introduction necessary, believe me.”
She drew back from him, her nostrils flaring. “We know each other?”
“We’ve never met, Sarge. But I’m a huge fan of Big East women’s hoops. I saw you play at the Garden must be a half-dozen times. You wore number twenty-six. Averaged just under seven assists per game throughout your career. Played killer defense. And no one, but no one, settled her sweet self at the charity stripe like you did when you were shooting a free throw.”
“Is that a fact?” Yolie growled. Although Mitch could tell she was warming to the guy. She’d settled into her left hip just enough so that she was no longer taller than Very. “Coach Vivian always told us it was to be balanced right.”
“Oh, you were balanced plenty right,” Very assured her. “Still are, from where I’m standing.”
“Where you’re standing, hon, is about a hundred and twenty miles outside of your jurisdiction. You got information for me?”
Very nodded. “Also some questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
Very didn’t answer her. His attention had been drawn to the Saab that was making its way across the causeway toward them.
“This must be your lucky day, Lieutenant,” Mitch told him. “You’re about to meet Dorset’s resident trooper.”
Des got out of her car wearing a polo shirt, shorts and an extremely troubled expression. Mitch really, really didn’t like the way she looked. Something heavy was weighing on her. “Who’s your friend?” she asked him quietly.
“Master Sergeant Desiree Mitry, say hello to Detective Lieutenant Romaine Very of the NYPD. He and Augie Donatelli were friends.”
“And he thinks he can help,” Yolie added dryly.
“Can he?”
“Dunno. All he’s done so far is flap his gums about ball.”
“Mitch told me that you and Dawgie didn’t get along,” Very said to Des. “That’s messed up. And I’m sure it was entirely on Dawgie. He had his demons. I’ll be real happy to tell you all about them sometime over a cup of coffee if you’d-”
“Is there a point here somewhere?” Des asked him.
“Yes, there is. The guy was like family to me, okay? He didn’t have anyone else. And he didn’t deserve what happened to him.”
“Agreed,” she allowed.
“You were saying you have questions,” Yolie put in. “What questions?”
“Have your people conducted a search of Dawgie’s apartment?”
She crossed her big arms in front of her chest, eyes narrowing. “Why are you asking?”
“Did they find a camera?”
“Yeah, an old-school Nikon. Top of the line model, all sorts of lenses.”
“Was there any film inside of it?”
Yolie blinked at him. “I don’t recall, offhand. But I’m sure they looked. We’re very thorough out here, Lieutenant. We wear latex gloves. We floss our teeth daily.” To Des she said, “Not that you asked, but I got what you need in the front seat of my ride. They’re in the big white envelope.” She meant crime scene photos. She knew Des. Knew Des would want to draw a portrait of Augie.
“You’re the best,” Des said, smiling at her gratefully.
“How about notepads?” Very asked Yolie. “Did they find any of those?”
“Don’t recall any, no.”
“Was his apartment locked?”
“Yes. So was his GTO.”
“Did your-?”
“They searched the glove compartment and trunk. Found nothing of interest.”
“Mind if I take a look around for myself now that you’re done?”
“I don’t mind-if you tell me what you’re looking for.”
“Nothing in particular. I’m just curious.”
“You’re curious, all right.” Yolie’s cell phone rang now. She glanced at the screen and took it. “Hey, Rico, how’s Tawny doing?
… No, no. You stay with her. She needs you right now. I can bring you up to speed tomorrow… No prob, don’t worry about it.” She rang off, her face tightening with determination.
“Is Tawny okay?” Des asked her.
Yolie nodded. “False alarm. Hospital sent her home. She’s seeing her doctor first thing in the morning. Rico will be back down here after that-unless the doctor says otherwise.”
“So they’re not assigning a different lieutenant to the case?” Very asked.
“Not yet,” she replied. “Not that it’s any of your concern.”
“But it’s huge for you.” He’d picked right up on just how ambitious Yolie was. The man was no dummy. Not that Mitch had thought for one second that he was. “If you crack this by tomorrow afternoon it’s a career maker. I can help you, Sarge. We can help each other.”
Yolie rolled her eyes. “Lookie here, Romeo…”
“It’s Romaine.”
“You’ll have to bring some game if you want stay on the court with me. You said you had information…”
“Yeah, I’m getting there. First tell me about how Dawgie died, will you?”
“Two blows to the head. It went down in a neighbor’s yard after dark. Someone came up on him from behind, near as we can tell. First blow sent him to his knees, second one finished him.”
“Did the killer take his wallet?”
“Money and credit cards were still on him.”
“Have you recovered the murder weapon?”
“At the scene. It was an old baseball bat.”
“Wait, wait, don’t tell me-a Louisville Slugger model 125 Mickey Mantle with a nicked-up handle. Dawgie’d had it since he was a kid. You found his prints and no one else’s on it, am I right?”
Yolie frowned at him. “I just got word about the prints a half-hour ago. How did you…?”
“Anyone who has enough game to ambush him would also be smart enough to wear gloves,” Very explained. “Dawgie’s wife, Gina, was terrified of guns. So he used to sleep with that bat underneath his bed in case someone tried to break in during the night. No doubt still did. He was your classic creature of habit. Since your techies are so thorough, they no doubt found the outline of it in the dust bunnies under there.”
Yolie said nothing to that. Just stared at him.
“If he kept it under his bed,” Mitch said, “then what was it doing out in Rut Peck’s backyard? And how did the killer get hold of it?”
“Dawgie must have been carrying it.”
“He wasn’t,” Des told him.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I was tailing him, that’s how. He didn’t have a bat on him.”
“Time out, you just lost me…” Very’s right knee was jiggling, jiggling. He had to be the most hyper person Mitch had ever met. The man was a human hummingbird. “You were tailing Dawgie?”