Soave had not been happy when Des phoned him with her news. He wanted to see her right away. Tommy was out following up on it when she got there.
He was alone in the makeshift office, sipping take-out coffee and fuming. “I thought you weren’t going to butt into my case, Des.”
“Don’t be a chump, Rico,” she responded coolly. “I came into information pertinent to your investigation and I reported it directly to you. If I were trying to butt in, I would have run with it on my own.”
“Okay, that’s true,” he admitted grudgingly. “But, damn it, I’ve already got Jim Bolan all sewn up.”
“Maybe so. Then again, maybe you ought to be keeping your mind open.”
“Stop lecturing me, will ya?”
“I can’t help it. I changed your diapers-once a mother, always a mother.”
Tommy came walking in now with Dirk Doughty in tow. Ben Leanse’s baseball tutor seemed composed and calm.
“Thanks for coming by, Mr. Doughty,” Soave said to him.
“Not a problem. Your sergeant said it was important.”
Bringing Dirk to town hall had been Des’s idea, actually. Soave had been all for bracing him in the lounge of the Frederick House. But people would talk about it, and she didn’t feel that would be fair to him. In a place like Dorset, it was important to tread lightly on someone’s reputation.
Dirk was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. On his head was a bright-blue DOUGHTY’S ALL-STARS baseball cap. He turned a wooden desk chair around backward and sat, his big arms folded imposingly before him. Dirk still possessed the effortless physical confidence of a professional athlete. It was the kind of animal self-assurance that Soave sought to achieve with all his weight lifting. And failed at.
“I’ll get right to the point, Mr. Doughty,” he began, pacing back and forth in front of him. Tommy remained in the doorway, watching impassively. “We came into some information this evening from a local individual who likes to scope out the Frederick House’s parking lot in the middle of the night. If any of the guests leave their cars unlocked, he takes whatever he can find.”
“I haven’t had anything stolen, Lieutenant,” Dirk said.
“This individual spotted Takai Frye’s red Porsche parked halfway down the block from the inn late last night,” Soave went on. “What’s more, Trooper Mitry claims she’s been hearing a couple going at it up on the third floor in the wee hours. According to the inn’s registry, Mr. Doughty, your room is on the third floor.”
Dirk looked at Des curiously. “You figured that was me?”
She didn’t respond. It was Rico’s interrogation.
Dirk took a stick of sugarless gum out of the back pocket of his jeans, slowly unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth. “I only wish it was,” he said, his jaw muscles going to work on it. “I’ve been hearing them myself, and they sound like they’re having themselves one hell of a time. But I’m a married man, Lieutenant. My wife Laurie is in Toledo-”
“And you’re here,” Soave said roughly. “Cards on the table, Mr. Doughty-were you seeing Moose Frye romantically?”
“No, I was not,” he answered forthrightly. “And that’s the truth.”
“What about her sister, Takai? Are you mixed up with her?”
“Not hardly.” Dirk’s weathered face tightened. “Not anymore.”
Soave frowned at him. “Are you telling me you used to be?”
Dirk let out a laugh. “I used to be married to her. Takai was my first wife.”
Des drew her breath in, stunned. Wheels within wheels-that was life in Dorset. How long would she have to live in this place before she’d comprehend its tricky little ins and outs? Ten years, twenty years, ever?
“I’m talking ancient history here,” Dirk added as explanation. “We were just kids. I was twenty. She was barely out of high school. Mind you, Moose was the one who I dated when we were growing up, not Takai. Moose was my high school sweetheart, I guess you could say.”
“Well, was she or wasn’t she?” Soave asked him irritably.
“We were friends,” he answered carefully. “Good, close friends. But we didn’t… she wasn’t ready for anything more than that.”
“And Takai was?”
“Takai was a runway model in New York when she was sixteen. That girl slept with whoever she wanted. Not that she ever wanted Dirk Doughty, star of the Dorset High Fighting Pilgrims. Not until I was a bonus baby with money in my pocket. Suddenly, I intrigued her. So she decided to steal me away from her big sister. That’s the kind of person she is. And I let her steal me away. That’s the kind of person I was. Not that I was very proud of myself. But, believe me, it’s hard to be a healthy young male and have a gorgeous creature like that coming after you.” Dirk trailed off into regretful silence, his jaw working on the gum. “Moose never forgave me. I couldn’t blame her. I treated her badly, and I was never man enough to apologize to her. I wish I had, because now I’ll never get the chance.”
Des cleared her throat. “Lieutenant, if I may…?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” he growled, smoothing his see-through mustache.
She remained seated. She’d never been a pacer. “It was Moose Frye who recommended you to the Leanses for tutoring Ben. Did you know that?”
Dirk’s eyes widened with surprise. “No, I didn’t.”
“You didn’t see her when you got back to town?”
Dirk shook his head. “Babette just said she got my name from a-a friend.” He broke off, swallowing. He seemed genuinely moved. “Thank you for telling me that. It’s nice to know.”
“How would you describe your relationship with Takai these days?”
“That’s easy,” he replied. “We don’t have one.”
Nonetheless, someone might have thought they did-seen her car parked near the inn, figured she was visiting Dirk and went after her in a jealous rage, taking out Moose by mistake. It certainly played. And Takai certainly had a way of stirring men up. “You mentioned an ex-wife when we spoke yesterday,” she went on. “You said she cleaned you out of your signing bonus when you divorced. That was Takai?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you share that with me?”
“I don’t air my dirty laundry.”
“What happened to your marriage?”
“The accident happened,” he said quietly. “She was behind the wheel when I blew out my elbow. We were coming home from a New Year’s Eve party here in town. It was a cold, cold night. There was ice on the road, and she was driving too fast. She always drove too fast. Flipped us into a ditch up on Route 156. She didn’t have a scratch on her. I needed two operations to put my elbow back together. She got tired of me sitting around the house with my arm in a sling. We lasted eighteen months.”
“Sounds to me like she ruined your career,” Soave spoke up pointedly.
“I might have been a star if it hadn’t been for that,” Dirk admitted. “Then again, I might not have. I don’t let myself go there. Nothing good comes from that woulda-coulda stuff. Pain is mandatory. Suffering is optional. You have to move on. Takai sure did. Soon as she realized I wasn’t going to make it to the show, I was of zero use to her. I soon discovered she was no longer being faithful to me. Had herself a string of men, some of them married men. And we were history.”
“And it’s been eating away at your guts for years, hasn’t it?” demanded Soave, moving in on him. “She ruined your baseball career, slept around on you, made a fool out of you…”
Dirk refused to be baited. “Look, man, I know where you’re trying to go with this. But I didn’t try to kill her. And that’s the truth.”
Des said, “Dirk, you told me that being back here was giving you a chance to catch up with some old friends. Who did you mean exactly?”
“Well, Timmy Keefe,” Dirk responded, as Soave resumed pacing. “He was my best friend growing up. We’re like brothers. And his wife, Debbie, is my cousin. She’s the only real family I have left around here. I’ve been up to their place for dinner a few times since I’ve been here. Timmy and me took out his Boston Whaler Sunday. He’s got a few lobster pots. We cleaned them out. Had ourselves one mean feast when we got home.”
“Tim’s been fixing up my house,” Des said.
