“Figures.” Esme giggled, stroking him gently.
Martine looked around at the house admiringly. “You’ve done wonders with this place, Des. It’s absolutely darling.”
“I like the light,” said Des, who had never before in her life known someone who used the word “darling” to describe, well, anything.
“Your boyfriend’s article was real nice,” Esme said to Des. “But he was wrong about Tito’s script, you know.”
“How so?”
“There are no pages. They don’t exist. Never have. The project was all just a fantasy. A lovely, lovely fantasy.”
“Des, may I be frank?” Martine cut in briskly. “Esme felt, we both felt, that it would be a good idea to make her available to you right away this morning. She wants to help the authorities any way she can. And there are some… things she’d like to get off of her chest.”
“Would this have anything to do with your lip, Esme?”
“It would,” Martine answered for her.
Esme was back into playing with the cats.
“I appreciate you coming forward.” Des said, starting toward the kitchen phone. “I’ll reach out to Lieutenant Tedone and we’ll get the ball rolling.”
“No ball,” Esme said abruptly. “No lieutenant.”
Des stopped in her tracks. “You just said what?”
“I want to talk to you, Des. I like you.”
Des smiled at her. “I like you, too, Esme, but I’m not involved in this investigation. I’m just the resident trooper.”
“Mommy, I don’t like this now,” Esme said, slowly shaking her head from side to side.
“Just take it easy, sweetie. We’ll figure something out.” To Des, Martine said, “You could be present at the questioning, couldn’t you?”
“Could you?” Esme asked her pleadingly.
“I can request to be present, if you’d like,” Des responded carefully. “But that’s strictly the lieutenant’s call. Before we go any further, does your lawyer know you’re here?”
“She’s fired him,” Martine answered.
“I hate lawyers,” Esme lashed out suddenly. “They get paid to lie.”
“You don’t have to tell Des that,” Bella pointed out. “She was married to one.”
“What about Chrissie?” Des wondered. “Where is she this morning?”
“Chrissie worked for Tito, not Esme,” Martine said frostily. “She’s been sent packing as well.”
“She’s left town?”
“We should be so lucky. She refuses to go, Tito’s death being such a huge story and all. But she no longer represents Esme’s interests and she’s no longer living with her.”
“Mommy’s moved in with me,” Esme said.
“I thought she could use the company. It means poor Dodge has to hold down the fort alone at our place, but he can manage for a few days.”
“Des, can’t I just talk to you?” Esme pleaded once again.
“Yes, can’t we do that?” echoed Martine, who seemed real anxious to avoid the standard Major Crime Squad channels herself.
Des wondered why. Was she just being protective of her daughter or was there more going on here? Mitch had told Des all about Martine and Jeff-not that Des had for one second been able to get her mind around it. Had Martine also been sleeping with her own son-in-law? Was she the other woman who Tito was meeting up at the falls? Was such a thing possible?
This was Dorset. Of course it was.
“I have to shower and throw on some clothes,” Des said. “Bella will take you down to the garage and introduce you to the kittens.”
“The kittens!” Esme clapped her hands together like a little child. “I want to see the kittens!”
“Take your time. Get to know them. Then we’ll figure something out, okay?”
Bella led the Crockett girls downstairs. As soon as they were out of the room Des phoned Soave and told him to get his ass over there. Then she jumped in the shower.
She was buttoning her uniform when the doorbell rang. She racedto the door and answered it. Bella and the girls were still down in the basement.
“Thanks large for the heads-up, Des,” Soave said as he came through the door with his chest puffed out, bulked-up muscles flexing inside his shiny black suit.
“No problem, Rico. I’m just glad you were nearby.” They’d set up a temporary command station over at town hall.
Yolie came in a bit more slowly, her brown eyes flicking around at the contents of Des’s house with intense curiosity. Today she was wearing a loose-fitting dark blue top made of a synthetic silk that didn’t cling so conspicuously to her front end. A conscious choice, Des figured.
“Girl, you live here?” Yolie marveled, her voice hushed. “This is sweet! And look at that deck. You can sunbathe buck out there if you want to. Mind if I ask, what’s the rent on a place like this?”
“I own it.”
“Shut up!”
“Rico, is it okay with you if I sit in? Esme might feel more comfortable.”
“Cool with me,” he said, smoothing his former mustache. “Is there a lawyer?”
“She canned him.”
“Even more cool.”
“You folks want some coffee?”
“That’d be great, Des,” Soave said.
The two of them went out on the deck while Des poured it. The Crockett girls came back upstairs now, minus Bella.
“Bella said to tell you she’s taking her ‘shtarker’ walk,” Martine informed her. “Whatever that means.”
“Once around the lake,” Des translated. “It’s three-point-six miles, the last mile uphill.”
“So many sweet kittens,” Esme said dreamily. “I just love the Pointer Sisters, especially the one with the white paws.”
“That’s Bonnie. They’re a sister act-you want one you have to take all three.”
“Can I, Mommy?”
Martine was gazing out at the deck. “That’s the officer who was at the falls yesterday,” she observed. “And that woman with the braids was there, too.”
“What do they want?” Esme demanded.
“To talk,” Des said gently. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll be with you.”
At the sound of their voices Soave and Yolie came back inside. Soave approached Esme slowly and with tremendous care, as if she were made of fine crystal and were liable to shatter if he squeezed her too hard. “I am incredibly grateful that you could give us some time this morning, Miss Crockett. Anything you can tell us about your late husband will be a tremendous help.”
“Where’s Tito?” Esme demanded.
“Tito?” Soave was instantly thrown. “The body’s… He’s in Farmington, with the medical examiner.”
“When can I bring him home?”
“Soon. A few days.”
“Please answer me this, Lieutenant,” Martine said. “Is my daughter a suspect?”
“At this point no one is a suspect. We’re still trying to determine what happened.”
“You’re saying you don’t know?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Well, what makes you think Esme knows anything?” she demanded.
“Martine, this is strictly an informational interview,” Des said.
