You’re probably asking yourself how I know so many details. The answer is that I just ran into our resident trooper at The Works and she filled me in over a cup of their fancy, shmancy hazelnut flavored coffee. Which, if you’ll pardon me, still doesn’t compare to Chock full O’Nuts back in its heyday. I used to get a cup of good, strong coffee and a slice of date nut bread with cream cheese for a nickel. That was my lunch when I was going to City College. Now it costs $3.95 for the coffee and you get no date nut bread, no nothing. But business is booming. The parking lot was loaded with state troopers standing around drinking their overpriced coffee and yukking it up. Not exactly how I choose to see my tax dollars being spent, but I’m just a fat old woman and no one ever asks me my opinion on this or any other matter.
Between you, me and the lamppost I think there’s more going on here than Des is willing to let on. More than just the professor’s murder, I mean. When I was on my way home I swung by Town Hall to pick up my new dump sticker and someone has taken over the auxiliary conference room. I spotted a few state troopers in uniform. But the rest of them had that smug, self-important look that is peculiar to federal agents and Republican members of Congress. Could it be that this Clay Mundy is involved in something even worse than cutting a man’s throat? Des certainly wouldn’t say, but I suspect that drugs are involved. The illegal kind. Because she did tell me that Carolyn Procter is all messed up thanks to him. Her exact words were, “If you saw the lady on the street you’d think she was a crack whore.” Can you imagine such a thing happening to someone like Carolyn? Why is it that good women have such bad taste in men? Are they blind? Or aren’t there enough good men like you to go around?
Des and I no longer talk about Him. She knows how I feel about her decision to be miserable with Brandon instead of happy with you. I make no apologies for how I feel. I’m the one who nursed her back to health after he took off on her with that Anita. I saw what a wreck he left behind. And I see her turning into that same wreck all over again. Her hands shook like crazy this afternoon when she was holding her coffee cup. And get this: As we were walking out of The Works she asked me if I’d heard from you. She brought you up, not me. So I told her you’re going to be doing your own show out in L.A. with Miss Hawaii, and you’ll never guess what happened next. She got this strange, dazed look on her face and then I swear she nearly passed out. Had to grab on to my arm or she would have pitched right over onto the pavement. She recovered quickly. Insisted she’d merely stumbled. But I know a fainting spell when I see one. She’s not well, Mitch. She’s lost so much weight her uniform is falling off of her. I told her to go see her doctor. She told me she had and that the doctor said she was fine. I don’t believe her.
I know you are “over” Des but I also know she once meant the world to you. As a personal favor to me would you please give her a call and find out how she’s doing? Maybe she’ll tell you something about her health that she won’t tell me. And it will give you two a chance to discuss the professor’s murder. Berger and Mitry used to be quite the crime-stopping duo here in Dorset, after all. Your insights into human behavior were always invaluable to her. Not that Des would ever admit that. But it so happens I’ve been around a few years and I know these things.
I do realize that this may be a bit awkward for you. I wouldn’t ask you under any other circumstances. But I love her and I am worried sick about her.
Much love, Aunt Bella p.s. I finally had to let Quirt out before he shredded all of the furniture. He has resumed prowling the island. Eats the dry food I leave out for him. Also the heads of numerous bunny rabbits. Life goes on.
To: Bella Tillis
From: Mitch Berger
Subject: Re: Unhappy Turn of Events
Dear Bella-Really sorry to hear about Richard. I didn’t know him well but from everything Molly told me he seemed like a terrific guy. And I can’t believe what’s happened to her mother. When I first moved out to Big Sister I used to see Carolyn jogging through the Nature Preserve every morning. She‘d always smile and wave to me. I remember that I kept thinking how weird it was for such a beautiful woman to be so friendly to a total stranger. My frame of reference was the city, where someone with her looks would simply stare right through me. You see, I hadn’t figured out yet that Carolyn’s behavior was the norm for Dorset. People smile at you there. Carolyn was part of my initiation to that otherworldly place.
I’ll be sure to send Molly a note at Kimberly’s. It sounds like her aunt’s farm in Maine will be the best thing for her. She needs to get away from that mess. She and Carolyn both.
As to the resident trooper, ahem, where do I begin? For starters, you’ve totally fictionalized our crime-fighting exploits. Des never regarded me as anything more than an amateur goof-ball who kept blundering my way into her business. Really nice attempt at spin on your part, though. Have you thought about a career in politics? Hey, here’s an idea: You could run for the U.S. Congress against Him. The voters need you, Bella. Congress needs you. Think about it.
Also, you’ve conveniently overlooked that she dumped me in a spectacularly heart-stomping fashion. So I will not be reaching out to her. Not about Richard’s murder. Not about the state of her health. She’s probably just dieting so she can fit into a thong bikini so as to please Him. Besides, her hands always shake when she drinks too much coffee. Tell her to drink less coffee. Tell her to eat more. Tell her to… Come to think of it, I don’t care what you tell her.
Bella, I’ve met someone. She’s a dance critic named Cecily Naughton. Cecily just moved here from London and we’ve hit it off big-time. Remember my former editor, Lacy Nickerson? You met her at the hospital in New London that time I got shot in the leg. Anyway, Lacy introduced the two of us. And before you even ask me, the answer is No, Cecily is not one of the chosen people. Though she is anointed. Her grandfather was the earl of somewhere. Not that she takes any of that peerage stuff seriously. She’s a very smart, funny and opinionated woman. Also totally hot. We argue about our work a lot. We laugh a lot. What else can I tell you? Oh, I know-I haven’t seen her since this morning and I already miss her.
Happily, she’s arranged to be in L.A. while I’m out there. I sort of invited her to come, actually. She wants to check out a couple of experimental dance companies up in San Francisco. Then she’s going to fly down to L.A. so we can spend some quality time together. I’m leaving on a flight first thing tomorrow morning. I expect to be at the Four Seasons for about ten days. I’ll have my laptop. Feel free to e-mail me if you need me for any reason.
I’d rather you didn’t say anything to Des about Cecily, if you don’t mind. I simply wanted you to know I’m back on my feet and couldn’t be happier. In fact, I’m practically giddy. Not that it’s love or anything. Love doesn’t just happen overnight. Not in real life, anyway. Only in movies that star Reese Witherspoon.
Seriously, I wouldn’t worry about the master sergeant. She just forgets to eat when she’s wrapped up in her work. She takes her job to heart. Sometimes too much. That’s why she took up drawing. She’ll be fine once she has a piece of graphite stick in her fingers again, which is something she knows perfectly well.