David Handler - The shimmering blond sister

“You’re welcome to use my shower.”

“I believe I will. Find out for myself what all of the fuss is about.”

“Which fuss is that?”

She smiled at him. “Oh, I’ve heard about what goes on in there.” Then she came to a halt, turning serious. “I don’t want you thinking what you’re thinking, Mitch. We didn’t spend the night together.”

“Come here, you big lug.” He put his arm around her shoulder. It was like grabbing hold of a boulder. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I’m not your father. I’m your friend.”

“In that case I do have something to tell you…”

“What is it, Yolie?”

“I want to get with that boy so bad I can barely breathe. If he doesn’t come back here and bust a move, I swear I will explode.”

“There, you see? That wasn’t so hard.”

“The Tokyo markets opened three percent higher today,” Des announced brightly as she leaned against her cruiser in Captain Richie Tedone’s driveway, holding his freshly delivered Monday morning edition of the Hartford Courant out to him.

The human lug nut stood there in his terry-cloth bathrobe, blinking at her sleepily. Unshaven and uncombed, Richie looked a whole lot more like a wild boar than Des was cool with. “What can I do for you, Master Sergeant Mitry?”

“Actually, it’s what I can do for you, sir.”

“And that is…?”

“I think I just may be able to save your life.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your career, your marriage, family… Pretty much everything you hold near and dear, Captain.”

Richie shot a quick glance at the house before he turned back to her, his chest all puffed out. “Look, I don’t know if you’ve been on an all-night bender or what, but showing up here at six o’clock in the morning blowing smoke at me is not what I’d classify as a real smart career move. I’m heading inside to have my breakfast now. You want to have a conversation with me, you call and make an appointment. Mondays are usually skunky but I’ll try to squeeze you in. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

“I wouldn’t go inside for that breakfast yet, Captain. Not if I were you.”

He heaved a sigh of disgust. “All right, let’s have it. And make it fast.”

She held the manila envelope out to him. He took it from her and opened it. Inside were copies of the digital photos she’d printed out of Richie standing in the doorway of apartment C of the Edgewood Vista apartments, exchanging slurpy kisses with a half-naked Michael Reginald Toomey, aka Eboni.

Richie grew redder and redder as he riffled through them. “Why, you sneaky bitch. What in the hell do you think you’re…?”

“I ran Toomey’s arrest record. Turns out he has a long history of arrests for prostitution and drug possession. He was also up to his eyeballs in the Suburban Madam case, remember? The madam alleged that a member of the task force accepted sexual favors from one of her prostitutes. After conducting a thorough interrogation of said prostitute you determined that there was no merit to the charge. Case closed. Aside from the fact that you’re now paying the rent on said prostitute’s apartment and bought said prostitute that cute little red Beemer.”

He glared at her long and hard. “Are you trying to make a point?”

“Well, yeah. You’re keeping house with a key witness in a case you personally investigated. A pro, as it happens. A tranny pro, in fact. Not that I’m passing judgment on your lifestyle. But it’s really, really not the sort of behavior that Internal Affairs looks too kindly on.”

“Did you come here to threaten me?” he blustered in response. “You did, didn’t you? You are actually trying to threaten me. Let me tell you something, Master Sergeant Mitry. You just made the biggest mistake of your miserable life. Because you are done, hear me? You will never work in law enforcement again!”

“Um, okay, this is the part where I talk and you listen,” Des said in a calm, steady voice. “I don’t give a damn who you’re related to. All I have to do is hand these around at the headmaster’s house and you are toast.” She gazed at him, smiling. “I can see those little wheels starting to turn in your head. Don’t waste your brain power. The memory card is stashed somewhere safe. It won’t do you any good to nuke my computer. Or search my house. Or burn it to the ground. The card’s not there.” She’d hidden it at Mitch’s place last night. Taped it under a kitchen drawer. “And if by some weird chance anything tragic should happen to me-like if I were to die a sudden death in a random drive-by shooting-this all gets sent directly to Superintendent Crowther. The arrangements have already been made.” She’d e-mailed the detailed instructions to her lawyer before she’d headed here. “You’re the one who’s done, Captain. I own your ass from now on, hear me? You’re mine. All mine.”

“What d-do you want from me?” he sputtered, his barrel chest heaving with rage.

“For starters, this so-called case of yours regarding my conduct toward Augie Donatelli disappears right now. I want back on normal duty by the end of today. More importantly, when Deputy Superintendent Mitry returns from medical leave in a few weeks-and he will return-he will serve out the remainder of his long, distinguished career in whatever capacity he chooses. He’s fought for that right. And he deserves it. What he doesn’t deserve is to have a pack of jackals nipping at his heels while he’s being wheeled into the operating room. If you try to mess with my father ever again, I swear I’ll go public with these photos. And I’ll make sure your lovely wife gets a complete set, too.”

Richie breathed in and out heavily, struggling to control himself. Clearly, he wanted to dive at Des and strangle her with his bare hands. “You’ll never get away with this.”

“Yes, I will. There’s a pretty little girl with a pink tricycle who’s got my back. You don’t want to lose her, do you?”

“How dare you mention my daughter? You don’t go after a man’s family. That’s way out of line.”

She let out a laugh. “Oh, is that right?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re on the job. That’s different.”

“So are you, Captain. Real different. And I wouldn’t invoke the sanctity of your happy family right now if I were you because you’re on super-shaky ground. Tell me, do you wear a condom when you’re with little Eboni? I certainly hope you do. I’d hate to think you’re jeopardizing your wife’s health.”

He shook a stubby finger at her. “It’s Yolie, isn’t it? Yolie Snipes is behind this. She’s always had it in for me.”

“Yolie doesn’t know a thing about this. Nor does your cousin Rico, if that’s where you’re going next. You’re looking for hate in all the wrong places, Captain. Try checking out the mirror. Now do we have a deal or don’t we? Because if we don’t, I’m going to knock on that front door and show your missus these pictures right freaking now.”

He glowered at Des, the very model of macho defiance. Until, slowly, Captain Richie Tedone of Internal Affairs began to deflate right before her eyes. His shoulders slumped. His pumped-up muscles seemed to shrivel. “I-I can’t get Eboni out of my system,” he confessed miserably. “You think I don’t know how wrong it is? I’d give anything to be free of that crazy little tramp. I-I’ve tried to walk away a million times. Believe me, I’ve tried. But I keep coming back. It’s like a sickness or something.”

She offered him her cell phone. “Call somebody who cares. I don’t. If you choose to spend your free time with a drugged-out tranny skank instead of with your beautiful wife and children that’s your business. Just know that today’s the day it bit you in the ass.”