“Are you okay?” Des asked him.
He looked at her, frowning. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Your dream girl isn’t exactly who you thought she was.”
“I’m fine, Des.” He went back to the grill to turn the chicken. “Besides, this whole thing is much harder on the lieutenant. He’s combing his own family’s unsavory history. How does that feel?”
“Needs doing,” Very said with a shrug. “I’m good.”
Des nodded politely, thinking, You are both so full of crap.
“Me, I’m just plain confused,” Yolie said. “If Augie’s killing has something to do with Beth and Vinnie’s activities, criminal or otherwise, then what about the rest of it? Was Augie the Dorset Flasher or wasn’t he? What’s the connection? Is there a connection?”
No one answered her. No one had an answer.
“I’m still waiting to hear the Berger version,” Des said finally. “My man’s not a member of the reality-based community. His mind operates on an entirely different astral plane. He sees things that the rest of us don’t.”
“And this helps you how…?” Very wondered.
Mitch, meanwhile, was standing there at the grill staring at the lieutenant, his eyes narrowing.
“Dude, why do you keep looking at me that way?”
“Because it’s your family.”
“Right, and I just said I’m… Hold on, are you thinking I killed Dawgie?”
“Why not? You showed up here out of nowhere waving a tin star
…”
“Gold shield, actually.”
“You knew the access code to Augie’s garage. Knew where he kept the spare key to his apartment. Knew that he hid the murder weapon under his bed. Maybe he was about to expose one of the Seven Sisters’ deep, dark secrets. Maybe-okay, here it is-maybe you didn’t go straight after all. Yeah, that’s it. You’re actually one of them. A loyal family member. They planted you on the force, which Augie never knew about until now. And so you had to kill him to protect your cover. You’ve stuck around Dorset because you’re trying to influence Yolie’s investigation. Steer it toward Vinnie and away from yourself.”
“That’s… really awesome, dude,” Very marveled. “Way cool. Except it’s not real life. It’s a movie with, like, Harvey Keitel.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of Johnny Depp.”
“No, Colin Farrell,” Yolie said with tremendous certainty.
“Just out of curiosity, am I the Dorset Flasher, too?” Very asked. “Or is that an icebox question?”
“An icebox what?” Yolie wondered.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“You’re not the Flasher,” Mitch told him. “There’s no connection between the two cases. He’s just some horny, frustrated high school kid. Which is exactly what Des was thinking before Augie turned up dead.”
“He’s right about that,” Des admitted.
“Mitch, you are one major-league twisted mother. I’m serious, dude. So what happens now? Do I pull a piece and try to shoot my way off of this island?”
Mitch frowned at him. “I haven’t worked that part out yet. Give me a sec, will you? This plot’s only two minutes old.”
Very let out a laugh. “I love this guy.”
“You’re out of luck, wild thing,” Des informed him. “He’s taken.”
“I think I’ll run up to the Mohegan Sun after dinner,” Yolie said. “Try to nail down what time Beth and Vinnie checked in last night. I’ll need pictures of them I can show around.”
“You’re welcome to whatever you need,” Very said. “Want some company?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I could ride along with you.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
Des’s right foot collided with Yolie’s shin under the table.
Yolie looked at her, startled, before she cleared her throat and said, “If you want to ride along, it’s fine by me. Happy for the company.”
“Cool.” Very drained the last of his beer, swiping his mouth with the back of one hand. “Anybody in class have anything else they’d like to share?”
Mitch raised his hand. “Yeah, I do. Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat.”
Later, after Yolie and Lieutenant Very had driven off to the casino in Yolie’s cruiser, Des and Mitch walked the island’s beach together in the moonlight, enjoying the quiet and each other. They shed their clothes and dove naked into the cool water. Floated on their backs and gazed up at the stars, bobbing up and down on the gentle swells until Des’s teeth began to chatter. Back at the cottage they jumped in a hot shower and Mitch soaped her, nose to toes, with a bar of L’Occitane milk soap infused with sinfully rich shea butter. He was very dutiful and thorough, his hands gently massaging and kneading her flesh, lingering lovingly over her booty. And lingering. And…
“I think I’m good and clean back there now, Armando.”
“Sorry, I got a little captivated. It’s like being allowed to stand in the Louvre running your bare hands over the Venus de Milo.”
“Yeah, that’s me-Venus. Except I’ve got arms.”
“And legs.” He knelt behind her, soaping them. “God, you’ve got legs.”
She stood there smiling inside. No man had ever made her smile inside like Mitch did. For sure not Brandon. With Brandon she’d been one big knot.
Upstairs in the sleeping loft, the oil lantern glowing soft and golden, she needed something different from Mitch tonight. Maybe it was that extreme dose of Richie Tedone and his tranny skank Eboni. But when Mitch reached for her, Des took his face in her hands and said, “Do me a special favor, will you?”
“I don’t have to wear the handcuffs, do I?”
“Nothing like that. Will you just hold me, squeeze me and never leave me?”
“Done.” Mitch gathered her in his arms and hugged her tight. “This is the deal from now on, you know. Our parents aren’t getting any younger.”
She blinked at him in surprise. It never ceased to amaze her how he knew her. “The Deacon just seemed so… vulnerable.”
“Get used to it. Before long they’ll be the ones sitting in a diaper talking gibberish and we’ll be the ones spoon-feeding them vanilla pudding.”
“You make it sound so appealing, Armando.”
“Okay, my turn now. To ask you for a special favor, I mean.”
“You want me to do that thing to you with the feather?”
“No. Well, yeah. But no, that’s not where I was going. We, that is to say you, decided that since I’ve lost so much weight, my old pet name no longer applied. But the truth is I really, really miss it.”
“You want me to go back to calling you that?”
“More than anything in the whole, wide world.”
She caressed his cheek, kissing him softly. “You got it, doughboy.”
“About the Deacon…”
“What about him?”
“There’s more going on here than you’ve told me, isn’t there?”
She nodded. “The Brass City boys want his job. They’re trying to use that scuffle I had with Augie to push him out. If he’ll retire then Internal Affairs will drop any investigation into my actions.”
“But they have no case against you.”
“Doesn’t matter. They can put a stink on me that’ll stay with me throughout my career. They know he won’t let that happen.”
“So what are you doing about it?”
“Pushing back. But please don’t ask me how, okay? Because I’m not real proud of myself. Which reminds me, I’ve got a loose end that’s driving me crazy. Can you think of any connection between the Dorset Flasher, Augie Donatelli and York Correctional?”
