Yolie glared at him once again. “We made a deal, remember? You promised you’d tell me if you found anything.”
“Which is exactly what I’m doing.”
“How many hours after the fact?”
“I had to get the roll developed, Sarge.”
“Do you have to keep calling me that? Makes me sound like some grizzled old gee with a potbelly. Make it Yolie, will you?”
“Or Precious,” Mitch said. “She really likes to be called Precious.”
“I can shoot you, hon,” Yolie reminded him.
“You wouldn’t dare. You’d leave Des bereft.”
“What’s on this roll of film?” she wanted to know.
Very fetched the photos from his knapsack and laid them out on the picnic table, one by one, without comment. They were photos of Beth Breslauer. Beth on her screened-in porch in a shortie nightgown, sipping her morning coffee. Beth in a halter top and shorts, painting her toenails. Beth in a one-piece bathing suit soaking up some sun out on the lawn. Her figure was quite good for a woman her age. Toned and shapely. She was showing skin in most of the photos, and was generally barefoot. The longer Des looked at them the more they creeped her out. They’d been taken by a lonely voyeur who had a schoolboy crush.
“The fifty-year-old girl next door,” Mitch observed, studying them closely. “A lot of these remind me of those old issues of Playboy in his footlocker-minus the R-rating, of course.”
“I’m with you,” Very said. “It’s pinup stuff.”
“And they aren’t that recent, Lieutenant. See this one? The cartoon daisies behind her are in full bloom. That was in mid-July. This roll’s been sitting around for weeks.”
“Playing you how?” Yolie said suddenly.
Very looked at her blankly. “Sorry?”
“You said you had a feeling that both she and Bertha were playing you.”
“Totally. They were holding something back. I’d stake my life on it.”
“I’ll have a go at her myself in the morning-minus Bertha. Squeeze her a little. See what pops out.”
“And I can go at Vinnie in the City,” Very said. “Dawgie’s photos of him with Beth give me big-time leverage. I’ll threaten to drag his wife in for questioning. No way he wants that to happen. Yeah, Vinnie I can squeeze plenty hard-if you want me to, that is. Your case, Yolie.”
“Squeeze away,” she urged him. “I really want to break this tomorrow.”
“I know you do. We’ll get there,” he promised.
Mitch had fallen strangely quiet. Just stood there gazing out at a sailboat on the water.
“Are you okay?” Des asked him.
He looked at her, frowning. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Your dream girl isn’t exactly who you thought she was.”
“I’m fine, Des.” He went back to the grill to turn the chicken. “Besides, this whole thing is much harder on the lieutenant. He’s combing his own family’s unsavory history. How does that feel?”
“Needs doing,” Very said with a shrug. “I’m good.”
Des nodded politely, thinking, You are both so full of crap.
“Me, I’m just plain confused,” Yolie said. “If Augie’s killing has something to do with Beth and Vinnie’s activities, criminal or otherwise, then what about the rest of it? Was Augie the Dorset Flasher or wasn’t he? What’s the connection? Is there a connection?”
No one answered her. No one had an answer.
“I’m still waiting to hear the Berger version,” Des said finally. “My man’s not a member of the reality-based community. His mind operates on an entirely different astral plane. He sees things that the rest of us don’t.”
“And this helps you how…?” Very wondered.
Mitch, meanwhile, was standing there at the grill staring at the lieutenant, his eyes narrowing.
“Dude, why do you keep looking at me that way?”
“Because it’s your family.”
“Right, and I just said I’m… Hold on, are you thinking I killed Dawgie?”
“Why not? You showed up here out of nowhere waving a tin star
…”
“Gold shield, actually.”
“You knew the access code to Augie’s garage. Knew where he kept the spare key to his apartment. Knew that he hid the murder weapon under his bed. Maybe he was about to expose one of the Seven Sisters’ deep, dark secrets. Maybe-okay, here it is-maybe you didn’t go straight after all. Yeah, that’s it. You’re actually one of them. A loyal family member. They planted you on the force, which Augie never knew about until now. And so you had to kill him to protect your cover. You’ve stuck around Dorset because you’re trying to influence Yolie’s investigation. Steer it toward Vinnie and away from yourself.”
“That’s… really awesome, dude,” Very marveled. “Way cool. Except it’s not real life. It’s a movie with, like, Harvey Keitel.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of Johnny Depp.”
“No, Colin Farrell,” Yolie said with tremendous certainty.
“Just out of curiosity, am I the Dorset Flasher, too?” Very asked. “Or is that an icebox question?”
“An icebox what?” Yolie wondered.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“You’re not the Flasher,” Mitch told him. “There’s no connection between the two cases. He’s just some horny, frustrated high school kid. Which is exactly what Des was thinking before Augie turned up dead.”
“He’s right about that,” Des admitted.
“Mitch, you are one major-league twisted mother. I’m serious, dude. So what happens now? Do I pull a piece and try to shoot my way off of this island?”
Mitch frowned at him. “I haven’t worked that part out yet. Give me a sec, will you? This plot’s only two minutes old.”
Very let out a laugh. “I love this guy.”
“You’re out of luck, wild thing,” Des informed him. “He’s taken.”
“I think I’ll run up to the Mohegan Sun after dinner,” Yolie said. “Try to nail down what time Beth and Vinnie checked in last night. I’ll need pictures of them I can show around.”
“You’re welcome to whatever you need,” Very said. “Want some company?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I could ride along with you.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
Des’s right foot collided with Yolie’s shin under the table.
Yolie looked at her, startled, before she cleared her throat and said, “If you want to ride along, it’s fine by me. Happy for the company.”
“Cool.” Very drained the last of his beer, swiping his mouth with the back of one hand. “Anybody in class have anything else they’d like to share?”
Mitch raised his hand. “Yeah, I do. Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat.”
Later, after Yolie and Lieutenant Very had driven off to the casino in Yolie’s cruiser, Des and Mitch walked the island’s beach together in the moonlight, enjoying the quiet and each other. They shed their clothes and dove naked into the cool water. Floated on their backs and gazed up at the stars, bobbing up and down on the gentle swells until Des’s teeth began to chatter. Back at the cottage they jumped in a hot shower and Mitch soaped her, nose to toes, with a bar of L’Occitane milk soap infused with sinfully rich shea butter. He was very dutiful and thorough, his hands gently massaging and kneading her flesh, lingering lovingly over her booty. And lingering. And…
“I think I’m good and clean back there now, Armando.”
“Sorry, I got a little captivated. It’s like being allowed to stand in the Louvre running your bare hands over the Venus de Milo.”
“Yeah, that’s me-Venus. Except I’ve got arms.”
“And legs.” He knelt behind her, soaping them. “God, you’ve got legs.”
She stood there smiling inside. No man had ever made her smile inside like Mitch did. For sure not Brandon. With Brandon she’d been one big knot.
Upstairs in the sleeping loft, the oil lantern glowing soft and golden, she needed something different from Mitch tonight. Maybe it was that extreme dose of Richie Tedone and his tranny skank Eboni. But when Mitch reached for her, Des took his face in her hands and said, “Do me a special favor, will you?”
“I don’t have to wear the handcuffs, do I?”