David Handler - The shimmering blond sister

“You handled that like a seasoned pro, Armando,” she said to him after Hal had fled.

“Thank you, master sergeant. Couldn’t have done it without you. I knew you had my back.”

“I’ve got your front, too, boyfriend. You’re all mine.”

There was a tap on the screen door now, but wasn’t Hal. It was Augie Donatelli. “I’m here, Mrs. Breslauer!” he called out, standing there in a frayed New York Yankees T-shirt and plaid shorts.

“What does that awful man want?” Maddee sniffed.

“Believe me, I have no idea.” Beth moved over to the screen door and said, “How may I help you, Mr. Donatelli?”

“It’s Augie, hon. How many times I got to tell ya? Jeez, everybody’s so damned formal around here.” He leered at Beth through the screen door. He was definitely leering. “Came to take care of your leaky kitchen faucet.”

“I’m entertaining guests right now,” Beth pointed out.

“Yeah, I can see that.” His eyes flicked around the enclosed porch. “How you doing there, Master Sergeant Mitry?”

“I’m fine, Augie,” Des answered cooly.

“So now is obviously not a good time,” Beth said to him.

“If you say so, hon, but I got a to-do list as long as my arm. Don’t know when I’ll be able to get back here.”

Beth sighed wearily. “Fine, come on in.”

He came on in, toolbox in hand, reeking of Aqua Velva and Ballantine.

“May I offer you something to drink?” Beth asked him politely.

“Nah, I’m good. Be out of your hair in a flash.”

Beth watched him strut inside to the kitchen. “My shadow,” she informed them miserably. “Wherever I go, he goes. If I’m at the post office, he’s in line behind me, blabbering away nonstop. If I stop off at the drugstore, there he is again-asking me which brand of medicated foot powder he ought to buy. As if I’m interested in the condition of his feet. Why, I even ran into him one night at the Mohegan Sun Casino. I was meeting a friend there from New York. And there was Augie with that same smirk on his…” She shuddered. “Whenever he looks at me I feel dirty all over.”

“You mustn’t,” Maddee said sharply. “He’s the dirty one.”

Dex, meanwhile, just sat and stared out at the Blush Noisettes. The man scarcely seemed there.

“Has Augie ever crossed over the line with you?” Des asked Beth.

“No, I can’t say he’s behaved inappropriately. It’s just his manner, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” Des steeled herself and headed into the kitchen. She found Augie on his knees under the sink, turning off the water. Which meant he was treating her to a really unwelcome expanse of hairy white plumber’s crack. “We need to talk, Augie,” she said, turning her eyes somewhere, anywhere else.

“If you say so, sugar lips. But maybe I ought to have a witness in case you try to assault me again, like you did yesterday.”

“I never went near you, Augie.”

“I guess we just have an honest disagreement about that.” Mercifully, he climbed to his feet and went searching in his toolbox for a wrench. “Go ahead, say what you wanted to say.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Fixing the faucet. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Giving Mrs. Breslauer and her guests the once over.”

Augie went to work on the faucet with his wrench. “And why would I want to do that?”

“You told me you have her under surveillance, remember?”

“Okay, true enough,” he allowed.

“Why, Augie?”

“I have my reasons. Good ones. I was going to share them with you yesterday but you weren’t interested-you and your fancy attitude.”

“I don’t have an attitude,” she responded calmly. “But you sure do. You go out of your way to antagonize these people. I’m warning you, Augie, keep it up and they will bounce you right out of here.”

“Don’t threaten me, homegirl. And don’t push your luck. I can still swear out a complaint against you.”

“A complaint for what?”

“You pushed me to the ground yesterday.”

“That’s bull. You fell over all by yourself.”

“Did not. But where I come from, only the lowest form of rat bastard swears out a complaint against a fellow officer. So we’re good, you and me.”

“I appreciate it, Augie. That’s real decent of you. Since we’re good, how about if we start over?”

“Start over how?”

“If you want to talk, one professional to another, I’m here to listen.”

“No way,” he snapped. “That window of opportunity is closed.”

“What, you’re punishing me now?”

He turned to face her, his arms crossed, one hand clutching the wrench. “Let’s just say I don’t care what other people think of me. Especially when those other people happen to be you.”

“You have a grudge against me personally, Augie. Why is that?”

He stared at her with his cold, dark, cop’s eyes. They were bottomless pools. He had stared down killers with those eyes. “Are you playing the race card with me now?”

“I’m not playing anything. Just wondering why you have such a big chip on your shoulder. You keep acting like you’re the victim of some grave injustice. Want to tell me about it?”

He soaked that in for a moment before he said, “No. Are we done here?”

“Not quite. Did you stop by my house last night?”

“Why the hell would I want to do that?”

“You tell me.”

Augie raised his chin at her. “You’re talking about that little stink bomb somebody left you, aren’t you?”

“It wasn’t so little, Augie. And if you know anything…”

“If I know anything?”

“Now’s the time to get out in front of it.”

He shook his head at her in amazement. “You think I did it, don’t you? You’re actually accusing me of depositing my poop on your doorstep. Damn, homegirl, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

“Why don’t you try talking to me instead?”

He went back to work on the faucet. “Okay. If you want me to talk, I’ll talk. Here’s three little words for you: Go. To. Hell.”

As Mitch eased his Studey across the rickety wooden causeway toward home, he was grateful for his island sanctuary. He needed some time alone to reflect. That nice, simple little get-together at Beth’s had gotten complicated in a hurry. It was so great to see Kenny again. He seemed like a terrific guy. Mitch was thrilled that his old friend and Kimberly were so madly in love. But then along came Hal, who it turned out had deep feelings for Kimberly and a world-class temper. Mitch was worried about a round two between Hal and Kenny. He was worried about Augie Donatelli’s obvious and highly unwelcome interest in Beth. The ex-cop was so hot for Mitch’s first love that he’d actually followed her to the Mohegan Sun, for crissakes. Mitch was also worried about the way Augie seemed to be getting under Des’s skin. She’d had words with him in Beth’s kitchen. And wouldn’t tell Mitch a thing about what they had talked about. She’d been unusually tight-lipped. It baffled him. Kimberly’s strange, remote father baffled him. So did her nervous, clingy mother. Hell, they all baffled him. His old life, the one he’d spent in darkened movie houses soaking up the world according to Louis B. Mayer, Sam Goldwyn and the brothers Warner had been so much easier to figure out. Everything was in black and white-even when it was filmed in Technicolor. Out here in Dorset, there were so many different shades of gray that it made his head spin like a gerbil wheel.

An old yellow MGA ragtop was parked at Bitsy’s house. She had company tonight. Mitch could hear the loud, thumping rock music. Although, oddly enough, the music grew louder as he pulled up in front of his own place. Loud enough for him to recognize it as “Trouble No More” off of the Allman Brothers’ landmark Eat a Peach.