The Snow White Christmas Cookie

another fifteen minutes. And that was that.”

“Except for the part where Mitch never came back inside,” Des said. “Stupid question, Steve. What do you think happened to him?”

Steve looked down into his glass. “It’s not my business to say.”

“I’m making it your business.”

“I figured he took off to party with Casey and Gigi. She’ll do that. Two guys at once, I mean. I just … I assumed he went out there to find out if he could get in on the action.”

“And, what, he just ditched Rut here?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Happens all of the time, Des. I don’t mean to throw stones. Guys are going to do what they’re going to do.”

“Rut, is that what you think happened?”

“Never,” the old man answered with total certainty. “Mitch is true-blue. He’d cut off his own foot before he’d cheat on you-especially with that one. Why in the heck do you think I called you? I’m worried.”

Des bent over and kissed him on the forehead. Couldn’t help herself.

“Steve, you were saying Tommy left right after Casey and Gigi did,” Yolie put in. “What does Tommy drive?”

“A black ’98 Trans Am, Loo,” Toni answered as she came through the doorway from the bar. “I just ran his plate and texted it to you along with his last known address.” She paused, her face tightening. “I found something outside that you need to look at.”

Toni led them back through the bar and out the front door into the waning afternoon sunlight, Des moving on legs that felt numb. There was a fenced enclosure near the front door where Steve kept a stack of firewood and bags of rock salt.

“I found some fresh drops of blood in the snow right over here,” Toni reported. “And some blood on that snow shovel, see?”

Yolie stared down at the blood drops in the snow. “Sergeant, here’s what I want you to-”

“The cruisers from Troop F are already on their way,” Toni assured her. “I made sure that one of them has a K-9 partner. A Troop F detective will be here in ten minutes. And I’ve called for a tech crew to take blood samples and dust the shovel for prints. Also Mitch’s truck.”

“Good work.” Yolie peered over at Des. “What are you thinking?”

“He went Bulldog Drummond. He was hiding here watching the action in the parking lot-until someone sneaked up behind him and brained him with that shovel. Someone named Tommy the Pinhead.”

“Sergeant, no one leaves this place without showing proper ID. I want the name of every man who was in here in the past two hours. I want every car in that lot searched. We have less than an hour of good sunlight left. As soon as the K-9 unit gets here make sure the woods surrounding this place are-”

“He’s not in the woods,” Des said softly. “He’s not here at all.”

“What makes you say that?” Toni asked her.

“Because if he was here I’d know.”

“Have them undertake the search anyway,” Yolie ordered Toni. “You’re in charge here until you’ve brought the detective up to speed. Then I want you to catch up with us, got it?”

“Got it, Loo, except…”

“Except what?”

“I don’t know where you’re going.”

Yolie glanced inquiringly at Des. “Do you?”

Mostly, the Yankee Doodle Motor Court offered privacy. Its decaying circa-1957 bungalows were spaced a discreet distance apart, and the parking spaces were around in back so that no one driving by could see who was getting busy there.

Danny Rochin, the manager, was a cadaverous Swamp Yankee whose jet-black Grecian Formula hair contrasted sharply with his two-day growth of white stubble. The plaid wool shirt that Danny had on was a couple of sizes too large and made him look shrunken. His bony hands trembled slightly as Des stood across the counter from him in the office bungalow, Yolie by her side.

“Gigi showed up in a blue Tacoma about an hour ago,” he confirmed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I rented them Bungalow Six.”

“Who was she with, Danny?”

“Don’t know his name.”

“Have you seen him here before with Gigi?”

“Oh, sure. He’s one of her regulars. Odd-looking sort of guy. Real pale and soft. Colors his hair red. Wears it like one of the Beatles.”

“How did Gigi seem to you?”

“She was high, same as always. Sloppy high. Fell halfway over this counter, slurred her words. She’s a mess, that one. If she lives to be thirty I’ll be surprised.”

“How about the fifth Beatle?” Yolie asked him. “Was he high, too?”

“He was something. Like he was in pain.”

“And how about the other guy?” Des asked.

Danny peered at her in confusion. “What other guy?”

“The other guy who was in the truck with them. Big fellow with curly black hair, eyes like a sad cocker spaniel.”

“I didn’t see anyone like that. Just them two. I rented them Bungalow Six. They parked in back and went in and then…” Danny hesitated, his grayish tongue flicking over his dry lips. “Tommy the Pinhead rolled in a few minutes after that.”

“So you know Tommy?”

“I’ve known that bastard since he was a little kid. He used to beat up my nephew because the kid stuttered. Gave him a bruised kidney once in the fifth grade. Poor kid pissed blood for a week.”

“What happened after he showed up, Danny?”

“He barged in here demanding to know which bungalow Gigi was in.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Damned straight I told him. You think I want to piss blood? He pulled in front of Bungalow Six, got out and started pounding on the door, acting like he was all crazy with jealousy or something. Can’t imagine how he could be, the way that girl sleeps around. She opened the door and they stood out there jawing at each other.”

“Could you hear anything they said?”

Danny shook his head.

“Is anyone staying in the adjacent bungalows?”

He shook his head again. “Afternoons are quiet here during Christmas season. Business will pick up again soon as New Year’s gets here.”

“What happened after that, Danny?”

“He went inside of the bungalow with her and closed the door.”

“And then?…”

“A nice, clean-cut young couple showed up. Couple of college kids home for the holiday is my guess. I got them settled into Bungalow One, good and comfy. A few minutes later I noticed Tommy and Gigi pulling out of the driveway in his Trans Am and heading off together.”

“How long ago was this?”

“An hour ago, maybe.”

“And what happened to the fifth Beatle?”

“Still there, as far as I know. Sleeping one off or whatever. The Tacoma’s still parked around back.”

Yolie headed right out the door to have a look at Casey’s pickup.

“Danny, I’m going to need the key to Bungalow Six.”

“I run a decent place here. I respect the privacy of my guests.”

“I’m not saying otherwise. But I still need that key.”