missing the curious glances that they got from neighboring tables. Because they were a different kind of couple, no question. And when you’re different people wonder about you. The glances didn’t bother either of them one bit. They knew how happy they were together.
“Hey, bod man,” she said, her pale green eyes shining at him from behind her horn-rims.
“Back at you, Master Sergeant.”
“I’m going to fetch me some lunch.”
“Lucky me,” Mitch said brightly.
She cocked her head at him curiously. “How so?”
“Now I get to watch you walk away,” he replied, rubbing his hands together eagerly. Among her many attributes, Des Mitry possessed one of the world’s top ten cabooses.
“Dawg, would you be talking trash at me?”
“I’m sure trying.”
“You’d better behave yourself before I perform a strip search.”
“Could I please get that in writing?”
She let out a big whoop and headed over toward the deli counter, her big leather belt creaking, her stride long, athletic, and totally lacking in self-consciousness. She wasn’t showing off her form. Didn’t need to. Des knew perfectly well what she had. She kidded around with Donna for a minute, then returned with a Greek salad and an iced tea, and sat across from Mitch, her brow furrowing intently. She had something unsettling on her mind. He knew her well enough to know this.
Mitch raised his orange juice in a toast. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”
“Wait, wait, I know this one! We watched it together. Humphrey Bogart, right?”
“In?…”
“Um, was it The Maltese Falcon?”
“Almost, it was Casablanca. But you were so close that we’re going to give you one of our very fine consolation prizes.”
“Which is?…”
“Me.”
“And if I’d won-what would I have gotten then?”
“Me.”
“Sounds like I can’t lose,” she said, attacking her salad hungrily. “Looks like I’ve got me some catching up to do, though. I see you’ve already had your dessert. I’m guessing something from the doughnut food group.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?”
“Powdered sugar on your collar, boyfriend.”
He glanced down at the collar of his short-sleeved khaki shirt. There were indeed tiny flecks of white there. “I can’t put anything over on you, can I?”
“Don’t even try. I’m a trained detective. Besides, I know you. Whenever you’re upset about something you break your diet.”
“I’m not like you, you know,” Mitch said defensively. “I can’t survive on such a drastically reduced food intake. Pretty soon you’ll have me subsisting on a handful of vitamin pills, just like the Jetsons.”
“Well, at least you’ve moved off of Yogi and Boo Boo,” she said tartly.
“I sure do wish you’d let me take that one back.”
“Not even. You told me the truth. That’s what I need to hear if I’m going to get any better. Hell, that’s why I keep you around.”
“So that’s it.”
Des gazed at him steadily from across the table. “What’s going on, baby?”
“You first.”
“Me first what?”
“Something’s bothering you, too, isn’t it?”
“No way. You broke your diet-you go first.”
“Okay, I can accept that. But we have to keep this between us, okay?” Mitch leaned over the table toward her, lowering his voice. “Dodge Crockett dropped a neutron bomb on me this morning- Martine is having an affair.”
“My, my,” Des responded mildly. “Isn’t this interesting.”
Mitch frowned at her. “You’re not reacting the way I thought you would at all. You seem… relieved.”
“Only because I am,” Des confessed. “Real, Martine told me this morning that Dodge was having an affair.”
“No way!”
“Oh, most definitely way.”
“Well, who with?”
“She didn’t say. Why, did he?…”
“No, not a word,” Mitch said, electing to keep his hunch about Will to himself. At least for now.
“Well, this is certainly tangled up in weird,” she said, taking a gulp of her iced tea. “I wonder why they’ve dumped it on us.”
“Why pick the same morning?” Mitch wondered. “And why pick us?”
She considered it for a moment, her eyes narrowing shrewdly. “I hate to say this, but part of me feels like we’re being moved around.”
“Moved around how?”
“She told me about Dodge’s affair so she could get out in front of any rumors about her own. This way, if word leaks out that she’s seeing someone, people will say ‘The poor dear had no choice-Dodge has been cheating on her for months.’ ”
“You think he told me about her for the very same reason?”
“It’s a theory, Mitch.”
“But that would mean they’re expecting us to blab this all over town.”
“Not very flattering, is it?”
“Not in the least,” Mitch said indignantly. “Dodge told it to me in confidence. I’d never run out and tell everyone in Dorset that Martine is… Wait, what am I saying? This isn’t Dorset, it’s Peyton goddamned Place.” He paused, poking at the remains of his lunch with his plastic fork. “Do you think they’ll stay together?”
Des shrugged her shoulders. “This may be totally normal behavior for them. Some couples get off on the jealousy. It lights their fire. Hell, for all we know this whole business could be nothing more than air guitar.”
“As in they’re not really playing?”
“What I’m saying.”
“Is that what you think is going on?”
“Boyfriend, I wouldn’t even try to guess.”
“Neither would I,” said Mitch, who had learned one sure thing about Dorset since he’d moved here: no one, absolutely no one, was who he or she appeared to be. Everyone was fronting. That didn’t necessarily mean you didn’t like or admire people like the Crocketts, it just meant you didn’t know them. They didn’t let you. “The Crocketts seemed like the perfect couple, too.”
“There is no such thing,” Des said with sudden vehemence. “And there’s no such thing as the face of a dying marriage either.” She was drawing on her own painful breakup with Brandon, Mitch knew full well. “If they choose to, a couple like the Crocketts can hide what’s really going on from everyone.”
“So what are we supposed to do now?”
“Besides keep our mouths shut? Not a thing. Not unless they ask us for help.” She finished her salad and shoved her plate away. “I did me some hanging with Esme this morning.”
“What’s she like?”
“Sweet, childlike-at times it seems like nobody’s home.”
“That’s why they call them actors. They’re not like you and me. They’re instruments. When they aren’t performing they’re no different than the cello that you see lying on its side in the orchestra room, waiting to be picked up and played.”
“If that’s the case then why does everybody worship them?”
