David Handler - The Snow White Christmas Cookie

She stood there in silence, clenching and unclenching her fists.

“Rut and your friend Mitch were sitting at the bar enjoying a Guinness and a chili dog, okay?”

“Best chili dog in town,” Rut said. “I had two.”

“And Casey Zander showed up looking for Gigi. Casey wasn’t in a friendly mood. When Rut offered to buy him a beer he gave Rut the brush-off.”

“And he was downright rude about it,” Rut said. “How a fine woman like Paulette could raise such a no-good louse I have never understood.”

“Then Gigi sashayed in and right away those two are snarling at each other. She told Casey to get lost and went over to talk to Tommy.”

“This would be Tommy the Pinhead?” Yolie demanded.

Steve blinked at her. “Yeah. He was sitting in the corner with a fellow who he sort of associates with.”

Yolie nodded. “Slick Rick Fontanella. We know all about him. And we’re not interested in that right now. We’re interested in what happened to Mitch.”

Steve took another swallow of Wild Turkey. “Gigi does pretty much whatever, whoever , Tommy tells her to. He beats her if she doesn’t. I’ve seen her in here with a fat lip, bruises all over her arms. It’s not pretty. Anyhow, after she talked to Tommy she came right back to Casey and started acting all nice. The two of them made a date. Casey told her he just had to take care of some business first. He went outside to the parking lot. Tommy followed him out there.”

“That’s when Mitch told me he had to get something out of his truck,” Rut recalled. “I told him it would cost him another chili dog, which is how it came to pass that I ate two of them.”

“So Mitch went outside just after Casey and Tommy did?” Des asked.

Rut nodded his tufty white head. “Correct.”

I’m going to kill him. First I have to find him, then I’ll kill him.

“Keep talking,” Yolie ordered Steve.

“Tommy and Casey came back inside a few minutes later. Casey had a real sick look on his face. Was kind of bent over, too. He and Gigi took off together right after that.”

“And what about Tommy?”

“He sat back down with Slick Rick. They talked for a sec and then he left, too. Slick Rick stuck around for another fifteen minutes. And that was that.”

“ Except for the part where Mitch never came back inside,” Des said. “Stupid question, Steve. What do you think happened to him?”

Steve looked down into his glass. “It’s not my business to say.”

“I’m making it your business.”

“I figured he took off to party with Casey and Gigi. She’ll do that. Two guys at once, I mean. I just … I assumed he went out there to find out if he could get in on the action.”

“And, what, he just ditched Rut here?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Happens all of the time, Des. I don’t mean to throw stones. Guys are going to do what they’re going to do.”

“Rut, is that what you think happened?”

“Never,” the old man answered with total certainty. “Mitch is true-blue. He’d cut off his own foot before he’d cheat on you-especially with that one. Why in the heck do you think I called you? I’m worried.”

Des bent over and kissed him on the forehead. Couldn’t help herself.

“Steve, you were saying Tommy left right after Casey and Gigi did,” Yolie put in. “What does Tommy drive?”

“A black ’98 Trans Am, Loo,” Toni answered as she came through the doorway from the bar. “I just ran his plate and texted it to you along with his last known address.” She paused, her face tightening. “I found something outside that you need to look at.”

Toni led them back through the bar and out the front door into the waning afternoon sunlight, Des moving on legs that felt numb. There was a fenced enclosure near the front door where Steve kept a stack of firewood and bags of rock salt.

“I found some fresh drops of blood in the snow right over here,” Toni reported. “And some blood on that snow shovel, see?”

Yolie stared down at the blood drops in the snow. “Sergeant, here’s what I want you to-”

“The cruisers from Troop F are already on their way,” Toni assured her. “I made sure that one of them has a K-9 partner. A Troop F detective will be here in ten minutes. And I’ve called for a tech crew to take blood samples and dust the shovel for prints. Also Mitch’s truck.”

“Good work.” Yolie peered over at Des. “What are you thinking?”

“He went Bulldog Drummond. He was hiding here watching the action in the parking lot-until someone sneaked up behind him and brained him with that shovel. Someone named Tommy the Pinhead.”

“Sergeant, no one leaves this place without showing proper ID. I want the name of every man who was in here in the past two hours. I want every car in that lot searched. We have less than an hour of good sunlight left. As soon as the K-9 unit gets here make sure the woods surrounding this place are-”

“He’s not in the woods,” Des said softly. “He’s not here at all.”

“What makes you say that?” Toni asked her.

“Because if he was here I’d know.”

“Have them undertake the search anyway,” Yolie ordered Toni. “You’re in charge here until you’ve brought the detective up to speed. Then I want you to catch up with us, got it?”

“Got it, Loo, except…”

“Except what? ”

“I don’t know where you’re going.”

Yolie glanced inquiringly at Des. “Do you?”

Mostly, the Yankee Doodle Motor Court offered privacy. Its decaying circa-1957 bungalows were spaced a discreet distance apart, and the parking spaces were around in back so that no one driving by could see who was getting busy there.

Danny Rochin, the manager, was a cadaverous Swamp Yankee whose jet-black Grecian Formula hair contrasted sharply with his two-day growth of white stubble. The plaid wool shirt that Danny had on was a couple of sizes too large and made him look shrunken. His bony hands trembled slightly as Des stood across the counter from him in the office bungalow, Yolie by her side.

“Gigi showed up in a blue Tacoma about an hour ago,” he confirmed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I rented them Bungalow Six.”

“Who was she with, Danny?”

“Don’t know his name.”

“Have you seen him here before with Gigi?”

“Oh, sure. He’s one of her regulars. Odd-looking sort of guy. Real pale and soft. Colors his hair red. Wears it like one of the Beatles.”

“How did Gigi seem to you?”

“She was high, same as always. Sloppy high. Fell halfway over this counter, slurred her words. She’s a mess, that one. If she lives to be thirty I’ll be surprised.”

“How about the fifth Beatle?” Yolie asked him. “Was he high, too?”

“He was something. Like he was in pain.”

“And how about the other guy?” Des asked.

Danny peered at her in confusion. “What other guy?”

“The other guy who was in the truck with them. Big fellow with curly black hair, eyes like a sad cocker spaniel.”

“I didn’t see anyone like that. Just them two. I rented them Bungalow Six. They parked in back and went in and then…” Danny hesitated, his grayish tongue flicking over his dry lips. “Tommy the Pinhead rolled in a few minutes after that.”

“So you know Tommy?”

“I’ve known that bastard since he was a little kid. He used to beat up my nephew because the kid stuttered. Gave him a bruised kidney once in the fifth grade. Poor kid pissed blood for a week.”

“What happened after he showed up, Danny?”

“He barged in here demanding to know which bungalow Gigi was in.”

“Did you tell him?”