Beth and Bertha stood there waiting for them in the hallway of the building. They’d seen Des and Yolie pull up outside in their cruisers, apparently. Bertha had a defiant look on her wrinkled little face. Beth, on the other hand, seemed uneasy. Her eyes avoided Mitch’s. She couldn’t, wouldn’t look at him.
“I was hoping to run into you, Bertha,” Maddee exclaimed brightly. “Could you phone Cissy and tell her I won’t be able to help with Meals on Wheels today? It would be terribly inconsiderate not to call.”
“Certainly, Maddee.”
“And if I’m not back by late this afternoon will you please make sure my roses get a good watering? It’s been terribly dry. Also, the recyclables go out tonight and Augie isn’t around to…”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Maddee,” Bertha said. “I’ll find someone to do it. Hell, I’ll do it myself if I have to. Won’t be the first time I’ve pitched garbage.”
“Thank you, dear. Come along, Dex.” And with that Maddee Farrell marched out the front door of the Captain Chadwick House, her head held high, her husband’s hand in hers. Yolie trailed along behind them.
Mitch stayed there in the hallway with Des.
“Lieutenant Very was convinced that you two were holding out on us,” he said to Beth and Bertha. “You knew who the Dorset Flasher was all along, didn’t you? You knew that Maddee killed Augie to protect him. You knew everything.”
“Of course,” Bertha responded airily. “Nothing goes on in this town that I don’t know about.”
“Why didn’t you speak up, Mrs. Peck?” Des demanded.
“Because we look out for one another in Dorset, that’s why. All we have is each other. We’re not perfect. Lord knows, the men who we choose to marry certainly aren’t. We do the best we can with them. We prop them up, stroke them, coddle them. And yet it happens anyway-in the blink of an eye they go from Mr. Dependable to Mr. Depends. That’s what happened to my Guy. And now it’s Maddee’s Dex. She was simply looking out for him. I can’t condemn her for that.”
“She killed a man,” Des pointed out.
Bertha made a face. “Oh, please. Augie was a drunken, leering boor. A predator who took pictures of my friend when she was undressed.”
“You knew about that?” Mitch asked Beth.
“Of course,” she replied, shivering slightly. “Women always know when we’re being watched.”
Mitch considered this for a moment, wondering if that meant Beth knew he used to watch her outside his bedroom window every morning as she left for work, her hips swaying, her blond hair shimmering in the sunlight. He didn’t want to know the answer. It fell under the category of Don’t Ask, Please God Don’t Tell.
“Augie hounded Beth everywhere she went,” Bertha went on. “He was determined to destroy her and her lover. Just as he was determined to unmask Dex Farrell and take away what little dignity the man had left. Dex has already suffered enough from the financial scandals. Maddee certainly has. She’s been ostracized by everyone who quote-unquote matters, poor woman. I’ve never considered her a close friend. I like to be around people who are light-spirited and fun. Maddee isn’t. She’s a pain, quite frankly. But she’s a decent lady. And she didn’t deserve this.”
“Mitch, I’m so sorry I wasn’t more candid with you yesterday,” Beth said, her big, brown eyes gleaming. “I owed you the truth. But I gave Bertha my word that I’d keep quiet about it.”
“I understand, Beth.”
She tilted her head at him. The old Natalie Wood tilt. “You say you understand, but you don’t. You’re disappointed in me. I can see it in your eyes. And it really hurts, Mitch. Please phone me this week, will you? We can meet at The Works for coffee, okay?”
“Sure. If you’d like.”
“I would, very much. I want us to stay friends-for Kenny’s sake. And for Kimberly, whose life is about to become a total nightmare.”
“I’m heading to the fitness center right now to give her the news,” Des said. “And I’ll let Lieutenant Very know that he no longer needs to question your friend Vinnie. It’s all over.”
“Thank you, Des. That’s very good of you.”
“Just doing my job.”
Out in front of the Captain Chadwick House, Yolie had gotten the Farrells settled in the backseat of her cruiser. She waved good-bye to Des and Mitch, then hopped in and took off down Dorset Street.
“I could see it, too, you know,” Des said, standing there on the front steps.
“See what?”
“The disappointment in your eyes.”
“It was that obvious, was it?” He glanced over at her. “You’re smiling. Why are you smiling?”
“Can’t help it. I’m kvelling.”
“Kvelling? That’s a new one on me. Where’d you pick up such a funny sounding… Okay, ow, that hurt.”
“You aced it, doughboy. Figured this whole thing out all by yourself. I guess you don’t need me anymore.”
“Guess again.”
“No, no, it’s finally happened. You’re all grown up now. Cracking cases on your own. Tackling armed suspects to the floor…”
“Yeah, right. An old lady with a pair of coupon scissors. I was afraid she wanted you to shoot her.”
“There, you see? Nothing gets by you. Your eyes are wide open now. You realize that your one and only dream girl is human. Hell, you don’t even blush anymore when we talk about her.”
“I never blushed.”
“Oh, right. You were having hot flashes. Maybe you should have your doctor check that out.”
“Des, if I didn’t know you better I’d swear you were jealous.”
“Not a chance.”
“Besides, you couldn’t be more wrong about my one and only dream girl. Would you like me to tell you a little bit about her?”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay, here goes. She’s a long, lean, bootylicious Connecticut state trooper. She has amazing legs. I’d trust her with my life, and have on numerous occasions. She’s a tremendously gifted artist. She has amazing legs. Or did I already-?”
“I don’t mind if you repeat yourself.”
“Plus I happen to know she’s plenty human and…”
Des raised an eyebrow at him. “And…?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, thinny.”
EPILOGUE
(TWO DAYS LATER)
Maddee Farrell was arraigned in New London Superior Court the morning after her arrest, and charged with murder in the first degree. The courtroom was packed with national media people. Reporters from the major newspapers, TV networks and cable news channels slavered all over it. It wasn’t every day that the patrician wife of a world-famous Wall Street swindler-Dex “Quacks Like a Duck” Farrell-was charged with murdering a retired New York City police detective. Or that Dex Farrell himself was hauled in and charged with being the serial weenie waver who’d been terrorizing the good ladies of Dorset, Connecticut for weeks. The whole scene was one giant made-for- cable newsapalooza. Maddee’s lawyer requested that she be released on bail. The judge denied the request. Judges tend to take a dim view of premeditated acts of murder, even those committed by rich old ladies who wear pearls and magenta lipstick. Dex, meanwhile, was being held at Connecticut Valley Hospital in Middletown pending the findings of a psychological evaluation by a court-appointed psychiatrist.
Des highly doubted that the shrink would find Dex Farrell competent to stand trial. But she had to admit that the Dorset Flasher had been right about one thing: the weather. A blast of fresh, cool Canadian air blew in late Tuesday night, just like he’d predicted. It was the first hint that fall wasn’t far off. And it meant that the Deacon
