David Handler - The Snow White Christmas Cookie

Questa considered this for a moment. “Maybe Hank Merrill got in over his head with them.”

“If that’s the case,” Des said, “then he must have had a contact. Someone who was buying the stuff off of him.”

“And we need to have a conversation with that someone,” Yolie said. “Captain, I’d like to put some names and faces to the operation in this part of the state. Who the players are, where they hang out. We need to grab somebody and throw him in an interview room. He doesn’t have to be a big-timer. Just someone who we can pry open.”

“I’ll put my people to work on it,” The Aardvark said.

“Whoa, I feel like we’re really getting somewhere here,” Grisky exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “You see what happens when we all pull together as a team? Okay, let’s slice this bad boy up. Inspector Questa and his people will work the postal side. Captain Amalfitano and his task force have got the prescription meds angle. The girls will run their investigation into the murder itself. Or murders , if that’s how it plays out. Resident Trooper Mitry will continue to assist as needed. Sound good?”

“All except for one small detail,” Yolie said coolly. “Sergeant Tedone and myself are homicide investigators attached to the Central District branch of the Connecticut State Police’s Major Crime Squad.”

He frowned at her. “Okay, really not following you.”

“She means we’re not ‘the girls,’” Toni explained.

“Gotcha. My bad, Snooki.”

“And my name’s not Snooki.”

“Whatever you say. Questions?”

Toni raised her chin at him. “Yeah, I have one.”

Grisky flashed her a grin. “You keep right on coming. I like that. Okay, what is it?”

“Exactly what are you going to be doing?”

He blinked at her, taken aback. “I’m sorry, you were sitting here at this large table just now, weren’t you? Paying attention to what was going on?”

Toni nodded her head slowly. “Yeah?…”

“That was me doing it.”

Kylie was in a third-floor room for two that she had all to herself. Bright sunlight streamed in through the window.

She lay propped up in bed with her surgically repaired right ankle in traction. They had her on a morphine drip for the pain and she seemed to be in a semi-zonked state when Des walked in. There were abrasions on her lips and forehead from the Honda’s air bag, and her hair lay limp and flat on her head. But she was still a cutie in the way that so many big-eyed, soft-mouthed little eighteen-year-old girls are cuties. There was no telling what Kylie Champlain would look like in ten years when she lost her baby fat and the bones in her face started to become more pronounced. She might resemble her father more than her mother, though Des certainly hoped not, for her sake.

“Hey, Trooper Des,” she said groggily. “I must have dozed off for a sec. Are my folks here?”

“Don’t appear to be.”

“They went out for coffee awhile ago. Guess they’re not back yet.”

“That’s okay, Kylie. I came to see you.”

Kylie lowered her gaze, swallowing. “I’m really sorry about what happened. It was all my fault. I told him that.”

“Told who?”

“The policeman who was here this morning.”

“Someone came here to talk to you?”

“Uh-huh. I don’t remember his name. He said he was with … it sounded like the IRS, except not. Internal something .”

Des felt her abdominal muscles tighten involuntarily. “Internal Affairs?”

“That’s it.”

“What did he ask you?”

“Whether you made me drive faster than I wanted to.”

“Did I?”

Kylie let out a weak laugh. “No way. I’m the one who’s stupid, not you.” Then she looked up at Des, frowning. “ You’re not in trouble, too, are you?”

“No. It’s routine procedure any time there’s an accident of this type.”

“I panicked, Trooper Des. Totally lost it. You must hate me. Everyone must.”

“No one hates you, Kylie. I certainly don’t. But do you mind if I ask you something, girl to girl?”

“I don’t mind. What is it?”

“Why did you try to steal those boots?”

“Because I have to look nice. Guys don’t notice me otherwise.”

“Sure, they do.”

“No, they don’t. Trust me, there’s girls who guys notice and then there’s girls like me-sort of okay looking except not really. My legs are too short and I have these thick calves and fat little toes. I look like a troll in shorts and flip-flops. Plus I’m a total dimwit.”

“No, you’re not. You’re eighteen. Believe me, I screwed up a lot when I was your age. We all do.”

Kylie let out a sigh. “I don’t even know why I keep screwing up. Except sometimes I just feel like I’m going to explode, you know?”

“I know.”

“How did … I mean, what did you do?”

“Figured out who I really wanted to be. And then came up with a plan. As long as I stayed focused on my plan I was okay.”

“I’ve tried doing that but I always … I–I daydream.”

“What do you daydream about?”

“Being tall and skinny like you. Looking good in a bikini. Lying on a beach in Malibu with a really cute guy who’s rich and nice and totally into me. We have a house right there on the beach. Everything in it’s new and clean. I have my own walk-in closet with a hundred pairs of shoes. And I have a dog. I love dogs. Big, slobbery ones.”

“Kylie, do you ever daydream about working?”

She looked at Des blankly. “Why would I want to do that?”

“No reason. I just wondered.”

“My mom wants me to be a nurse. I’ve been watching the nurses since I got here. They’re so smart and together. I don’t think I could be that way all day long.”

“Sure, you could-if you really wanted to. It does help if you have someone else in your corner.”

“You mean like my parents? No way. They are so screwed up and miserable.”

“I didn’t mean your parents.”

“Oh, you mean like a guy.” She shook her head. “Not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“I just told you-I’m a dimwit. They only want me for sex. Not one of them is willing to just chill with me. Go for walks on the beach. Talk to me.”

“I know a guy just like that.”

“Sure, because you’re tall and skinny and gorgeous.”

“No, I mean a guy who’d walk on the beach with you.”

Kylie tilted her head at Des quizzically. “Who are we talking about?”

“Pat.”

“The Pat who works for my dad? No way. I mean, yeah, we hung out a couple of times, but he’s not into me. He didn’t even try to kiss me.”

“He’s shy.”

“Shy around me ?”

“What I’m saying.”

Kylie thought this over. “That red beard of his … it looks itchy.”

“Tell him to shave it off.”

“He’d do that for me?”

“He’d jumped off of the Baldwin Bridge for you,” Des said, wondering what else Pat would do for her. Would he steal? Would he kill?

“Trooper Des, I’m kind of zonked right now. Are you chumping me?”

“I’m not chumping you.”

Kylie gazed glumly at her elevated ankle. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to walk on the beach like a normal person again.”

“Sure you will. Let’s not turn this into an old Bette Davis…” Des drew in her breath. “Damn, I almost did it again.”

“Did what?”

“Kylie, you will walk like a normal person again. You’re young. You’re getting excellent care. And you’ll be a beast when it comes to rehab.”

“No, I won’t. I’m incredibly lazy on top of everything else.”