head hit the pavement pretty hard but he never lost consciousness, according to the witnesses. His pupils are reactive to light. He’s not complaining of dizziness or ringing in his ears or nausea. Mind you, he’s normally a tad confused due to his dementia but we don’t believe he suffered a concussion. Just a bloody nose and a cut lip.”
“What’s your name?” Des asked the girl in the bikini.
“Asia,” she responded, sniffling.
“Your full name, please.”
“What you be needing my full name for?”
“If I’m going to file an incident report then I have to have your name, your address…”
“Why you be needing to file an incident report?” Asia turned plaintively to Clarence. “Why she be needing to file a-?”
“Why don’t you just tell me what happened,” Des said to her patiently.
Before Asia could do that, Rondell came rushing across the pool area toward them, looking like a middle- aged businessman in his button-down shirt and tailored slacks. The first thing little brother did was plead with everyone to put away their phones. They grudgingly complied. Then he approached Des, forcing an uneasy smile onto his face. “I appreciate you attending to this matter personally, Trooper Mitry.”
“Actually, I’m responding to a neighbor’s complaint about your music.”
“I apologize for that. Didn’t realize it was so loud. As you can see, there has been an unfortunate altercation of a physical nature. It is my hope that we can alleviate this situation with a minimum of public blowback.”
“That all depends on what happened, Rondell. Where’s your brother?”
“Tyrone doesn’t care for parties anymore. He’s been upstairs in the master suite all evening watching a movie with Jamella.”
“Which movie?” Mitch inquired.
“I’m not sure.” Rondell frowned at him. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, was it an action picture or a chick flick or-?”
“Excuse me, who are you?”
“He’s with me,” Des said. “Mitch?…”
“Sorry, my bad. Go ahead.”
“Jamella happens to be seven months pregnant, as you know. She doesn’t care for parties either. And Kinitra never hangs around with this sort. Nor do I.” Rondell glanced around at the crowd with keen-eyed disapproval. “I’ve been crunching numbers in my office. Kinitra’s been working on a new composition on her piano.”
“If all of you hate parties what are these people doing here?”
“Clarence invited them. It’s his party. My brother’s not even around, as you can see for yourself.”
“It’s Tyrone’s house, Rondell. That makes it his party.”
Rondell moved closer to her, lowering his voice. “Is there any way you can square this with the media?”
“That’s not my concern right now. Just give me some breathing room, okay?” Des turned her attention back to Asia. “Tell me what happened.”
“I was just…” Asia trailed off, fanning her face with her fingers to calm herself. Her nails were at least an inch long and painted purple and white. “I-I was dancing with Clarence. And that filthy old man, he came over to me and he-he…”
“He bit her on the booty!” Clarence blurted out. “That crazy man got down on his hands and knees and he bit her like some kind of a-a animal. So I let him have it.”
Des shook her head. “You’re telling me that big bad you punched out a seventy-two-year-old dementia patient?”
“He attacked my girl,” Clarence said defensively. “He’s some kind of sex offender.”
“He has a medical condition,” Mitch said.
“Medical condition my ass!” Clarence huffed.
“No, my ass!” Asia sobbed. “Will I need to get, like, a shot?”
“Here, hon, let me see…” Madge knelt behind her to examine her butt cheek. “No, he didn’t break the skin. It doesn’t even show. You’re fine.”
Mary had Winston up on his feet now and was walking him around.
“How did he get in?” Des wondered. “The estate’s fenced all the way around. There’s a trooper on the gate. How did he just waltz in here in his PJs?”
“I couldn’t say,” Rondell answered. “But I assure you we will undertake a thorough security review first thing in the morning.”
Des heard hushed, reverent oohs and ahhs now as Tyrone Grantham made his way through the crowd toward them, ignoring the partiers one and all. He showed no interest in the pretty girls in their bikinis. Or in the guys who were patting him on the back and capturing live footage of him with their phones. Only in the altercation. His hooded eyes flicked from Des over to Winston, then to the Jewett girls, Clarence and Asia before they returned to Des. “Who’s the old man?” he asked her in a low voice. “And why is he bleeding?”
“He’s Winston Lash, your next door neighbor. Clarence punched him.”
Tyrone grimaced. “Why you be wanting to do that, Cee?”
“He tried to bite my girl Asia here,” Clarence explained.
“Winston doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Mitch spoke up. “He has a medical condition.”
Tyrone narrowed his gaze at Mitch before he turned back to Clarence and said, “I told you to keep it low profile. I also told you to collect their phones at the door. Don’t you get what’ll happen now? This’ll go viral.” He looked around at all of the partiers. “And you said a few friends.”
“That’s all I invited, I swear,” Clarence insisted. “A dozen folks. It was Calvin who let all of these others in. I left him on the gate with the guest list.”
“Yeah, that was a real smart play.” Tyrone’s eyes located his father-in-law, who was chatting up a pair of tipsy young babes as he floated there in the pool. “We’ll talk about this later, Cee.”
“I swear I didn’t invite all of these people.”
“And I said we’ll talk about it later.” Tyrone looked at Mitch again. “What sort of a medical condition?”
“He has frontotemporal dementia. It’s a degenerative disease of the frontal lobe of the brain that causes him to do sexually inappropriate things. He doesn’t know he’s doing them.”
“Are you his doctor?”
“No, I’m a movie critic.”
“Mitch is with me,” Des explained.
Tyrone thawed slightly. “Oh, sure, you’re Mitch Berger. Glad to know you, man.” He stuck out a gigantic fist and held it there until Mitch bumped knucks with him. “I saw you on TV a while back dumping all over the new James Cameron movie.”
“Yeah, that sounds like me.”
“I didn’t agree but I admire your passion.” Tyrone stared at Winston intently. “I’ve got no beef with any man who has dementia. I’ve met retired players who had their bell rung so many times they barely know their own names. Can’t drive a car. Can’t feed their families. Breaks my heart.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You say he lives next door?”
Mitch pointed toward the Joshua place. “Right over there.”
“How’d he get in here?”
“We’ll endeavor to ascertain that in the morning,” Rondell promised.
Tyrone moved over toward Winston, who was seated in a chair now holding the ice pack to his mouth. “I want to apologize for what happened, sir. It was an unfortunate misunderstanding. I’m Tyrone Grantham, your new neighbor.”
Winston removed the icepack and said, “My, you’re a big one, aren’t you?”
“Big enough. Can I help you get home or maybe send for someone?”
“That would be me,” Mitch said.
“He’s a friend of yours?”
“Yes, he is.”
