Nan’s face hardened. “Donald hasn’t made time for our boys for over a year. He and Heather have a baby girl now who occupies all of his attention.”
“I’m standing here wondering about something else,” Des said, shoving her heavy horn-rimmed glasses up her nose. “Phillip and Peter were right there in that room of theirs last night when Augie Donatelli was murdered. Something pretty awful was happening out there in the dark. Josie was barking her head off. That’s scary stuff. Major bogeyman material. Seems to me it would be perfectly natural for a boy’s imagination to get the best of him.”
Marge nodded. “I absolutely agree.”
“Then again, it’s possible there’s more to it than that.”
Nan studied Des closely. “You think the boys saw something, is that it?”
“Did they, Nan?”
“I honestly don’t know. They haven’t told me a thing.”
“Do you mind if I talk to Peter?”
“No, of course not. As long you don’t upset him.”
“Not to worry. I won’t.”
“We’re going to take off now,” Mary told Nan. “If anything changes, just call us. Don’t even hesitate. We’re here for you.”
Nan walked them to their van, thanking them profusely. Oly climbed into his cruiser and took off.
Des went back inside and joined Peter, who was sitting there petting Josie. The boy had his mother’s big blue eyes and soft blond hair, but not her delicacy. His jaw was strong and stubborn, his hands unusually large for a boy of ten.
“Hey, Peter,” she said, showing him her smile.
“Hey,” he responded sullenly.
“Listen, I need for you to man up. Can you do that for me?”
He peered at her suspiciously. “Man up… how?”
“By telling me what’s really going on.”
The boy shrugged. “Mom said Philly had a bad dream.”
“A bad dream about what, Peter?”
He didn’t answer her.
“Phillip is real scared about something,” she said. “And so are you.”
“Am not.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I’m a professional, that’s how. That’s why I get to wear this big hat and carry this big semiautomatic weapon. Because I know things.”
He glanced at her uneasily. “What things?”
“I know that you boys saw what happened to Mr. Donatelli last night. That’s why Phillip had his bad dream. That’s why he kept screaming, ‘We’re next, Petey!’ Because he thinks the killer will come back for the two of you. That’s why Phillip’s so scared.”
“I’m not scared,” the boy insisted.
“Peter, I can’t protect you unless I know what you boys saw.”
“We didn’t see anything! Philly just had a bad dream is all.”
“Tell me the truth, Peter. Who killed Mr. Donatelli?”
“I don’t know!” he cried out. “And don’t try to make me say I do because I don’t. We didn’t see anything, okay? Not a thing!”
Peter jumped to his feet now and ran out the front door of the house to his mom-leaving Des alone in there with Josie wondering just exactly what in the hell was going on.
If Josie knew anything she sure wasn’t talking.
CHAPTER 15
Waa-eeeeeeeeeeeeeee…
Mitch was up at dawn, beloved sky blue Stratocaster in hand, sitting in with Hendrix on “Red House” while his coffee brewed. There was no sleeping late on Big Sister Island. Not with the early morning sun streaming through the skylight over his bed. Not with Augie Donatelli’s murder gnawing at him like it was. Because he was missing something. They were all missing something. The key to the whole case was right there in front of them and they weren’t seeing it. Mitch was positive of this. But, damn it, he just couldn’t figure out what it was.
Eeeee-yahhhhhh…
So he played. Standing there in his living room in a sleeveless T-shirt and gym shorts, eyes closed, bare toes wrapped around his wa-wa pedal and Ibanez tube screamer, monster amps cranked all of the way to the proverbial eleven, shaking the cottage to its stone foundation. Reaching for it. Feeling it. Nailing it. Yeah, there it was. Oh, yeah…
Scareeeeeeeeeee…
He’d awakened alone-unless you count Clemmie pad, pad, padding at his full bladder to let him know that her kibble bowl was emp-emp-empty. Des had gone back to her own place from Nan Sidell’s. It had been nearly three a.m. by then. He’d insisted she phone him when she found out what was up-no matter the time-and so he’d heard all about Phillip Sidell’s night terrors. Mitch knew the Sidell boys. The pair of them used to be in and out of Rut Peck’s house day and night before Rut moved into Essex Meadows. Mitch used to stop by Rut’s regularly. The old fellow had been one of the housebound villagers he’d bought groceries for. Phillip and Peter missed having their dad around but they were good kids. Sunny kids full of energy and jostling enthusiasm. Night terrors? No way.
Wa-eeeeeeeeeeeee…
The coffee was ready. Mitch set his guitar aside, poured himself a cup and discovered he was nearly out of low-fat milk. He had enough for his coffee but not for his healthy Grape-Nuts breakfast. He’d have to go out and get some. He sipped the strong coffee gratefully, gazing out his bay window. It was another warm, humid morning. Not a whiff of a breeze. The sky was the color of dishwater, the Sound as calm as a bathtub. Haze hung low over the water. He could barely make out the Old Saybrook lighthouse just across the river.
Outside the front door, Quirt began yowling impatiently for his breakfast. Mitch let him in-and discovered that Yolie’s cruiser was still parked there in the driveway next to Lieutenant Very’s Norton Commando.
Well, well…
Mitch had loaned Yolie a coded card for the security barricade so she could bring Very back to the island after they’d finished doing their thing at the Mohegan Sun. He’d heard the crunch of her tires on the gravel outside sometime in the middle of the night. The engine idling for a long while before she shut it off. Soft voices as the two of them strolled down the path to the beach, talking easily, laughing. Mitch had fallen back to sleep after that.
Well, well…
He raised his coffee mug in silent tribute to them, then padded down to the beach with his coffee and his nagging thoughts about Beth Breslauer. Beth and the Seven Sisters. Beth and Bertha Peck, her grandfather’s mistress. Beth and Vinnie Brogna, the great, secret love of her life. Beth and Lieutenant Very, who it turned out was a blood relation. Beth and Kenny. Kenny and Kimberly. Kimberly and J. Z. Kimberly and Hal…
As Mitch strolled in the direction of the lighthouse, lost in his thoughts, he came upon Yolie and Lieutenant Very seated together on a driftwood log watching the sun come up.
“Morning, kids!” he called out to them.
“Oh, hey, dude…” Very seemed surprised to see him. Also a bit guilty.
So did Yolie. She lowered her gaze, shifting around on the log.
“Whoa, is it six-thirty already?” Very said with a glance at his watch. “I had no idea. Although I did hear some righteous heavy metal a few minutes back. Somebody really bringing it.”
“That was me. And it was blues, actually.”
“No way. I definitely heard Leslie West’s opening riffs to ‘Mississippi Queen’ in there.”
