Jeff Lindsay - Double Dexter

Dexter, my God, where have you been? she said, and before I could answer she blurted out, We got the house! Oh, my God, I still can t And you weren t here! But it s the one, you remember you said? On a Hundred and Forty-second Terrace, just a mile and a half from our old house! With a pool, my God, and it was only There was one other bidder, but they dropped out right before It s ours, Dexter! We have a new house! A big, wonderful house! And she sniffled and then sobbed, and one more time she said, Oh, my God.

That s wonderful, I said, although I was not completely convinced that it was. But I said it with as much reassurance as I could muster, since she was crying.

I just can t believe it, she said, sniffling again. It s just exactly perfect, and I got us a mortgage at four and a half Astor, did you get a sunburn?

Only a little, Astor said, though she d gotten quite a bit more than a sunburn. The side of her face, where Crowley had hit her, was red, and I was sure it would soon turn purple, but I was also confident we could bluff our way through Rita s questions.

Oh, look at your poor face, Rita said, laying a hand on Astor s cheek. It s swollen, and you can t even Dexter, what in the world happened?

Oh, I said, we went for a little boat ride.

But that s You said you were going to feed the sharks, she said.

I looked at Cody and Astor. Astor looked back at me and snickered.

We did that, too, I said.

Our complimentary dinner that evening was really quite nice. I have always found that free meals taste just a little bit better, and after two days of the rapacious greed of the Key West economy, this was succulent indeed.

And the flavors were just a little bit more delicious when, three minutes into the entr e, my sister, Sergeant Deborah Morgan, blew into the dining room like a category-four hurricane. She came in so fast that she was actually sitting at our table before I knew she was there, and I am quite sure I heard the sonic boom catch up to her a moment later.

Dexter, what the fu what the, um, heck have you been doing? she said, with a guilty glance at Cody and Astor.

Hi, Aunt Sergeant, Astor said, with visible hero worship. Debs got to carry a gun and boss large men around, and Astor found that intoxicating.

Debs knew it; she smiled at Astor and said, Hi, honey. How are you doing?

Great! Astor gushed. This is the best vacation ever!

Deborah raised an eyebrow at that, but just said, Well, good.

What brings you down to old Key West, sis? I said.

She looked back to me and frowned. They re all saying that Hood followed you down here and turned up dead in your room, for Christ s sake, Debs said. I mean, Jesus.

Quite true, I said calmly. Sergeant Doakes is around somewhere, too, I said.

Deborah s jaw bulged out; it was quite clear that she was grinding her teeth, and I wondered what had happened to the two of us in our childhood to turn us both into molar manglers. All right, she said. You better tell me what happened.

I looked around the table at my little family, and although I was very happy to have my sister here to share my tale of woe, I realized that there were quite a few details that might not be appropriate for sensitive ears I mean Rita s, of course. Would you join me in the lobby, sis? I said.

I followed Debs out to the lobby, where we found a soft leather couch. We sank into the low cushions together, and I told her. It was surprisingly pleasant to be able to tell it all, and it was even more gratifying to hear her reaction when I finished.

You sure he s dead? she said.

Deborah, for God s sake, I said. I saw him bitten in half by a giant shark. He s dead and digested.

She nodded. Well, she said. We just might get away with it.

It was very nice to hear her say we, but there were still some worrisome details that were more I, Dexter than plural. What about Hood? I said.

That asshole got what was coming to him, she said. It was a shock to hear her speak approvingly of a brother officer s death; perhaps she had noticed his terrible breath, too, and was relieved that it was gone forever. But it also occurred to me that his brief attack on Deborah s reputation might have done some real professional harm.

Are you okay with the department again? I asked.

She shrugged and rubbed her cast with her good hand. We got my psycho in a cell. Kovasik, she said. Once I get back on it, I know I can make it stick. He did it, and Hood can t change that. Especially now he s dead.

But don t the Key West cops still think I killed Hood? I asked.

She shook her head. I talked to Detective, um, Blanton? she said, and I nodded. That bag he dropped on the dock in the Tortugas had a baseball bat in it, among other things, she said.

What kind of things? I said; after all, if he d come up with something new, I really wanted to know about it.

Deborah made an irritated face and shook her head. I don t know, fuck, she said. Duct tape. Clothesline. Fishhooks. A carpenter s saw. Things, she said, clearly cranky now. What matters is the bat. There s some blood, tissue, and hair on it that they think will probably match up to Hood s. She shrugged and then, oddly, smacked my arm, hard, with her fist.

Ouch, I said, thinking about the fishhooks some very interesting possibilities

Which kind of lets you off the hook, Deborah said.

I rubbed my arm. So they re just going to drop it? I mean, as far as I m concerned?

Deborah snorted. Actually, they re kind of hoping you ll just go away and not make any fuss about them handing your children to a kidnapper. Right out of their own front door, too. Fucking idiots.

Oh, I said. Oddly enough, I hadn t even thought of that. It really did seem like the sort of thing they might hope would just disappear. So they re happy with Crowley, even though he s gone?

Yeah, Debs said. Blanton may not look like much, but she knows her job. She found a hotel maid who saw somebody and got a description. Thirties, stocky, short beard?

That s him, I said.

Uh-huh. So this guy was helping his drunk friend out of the service elevator on your floor. Except the maid said he looked a little too drunk like dead drunk and he had one of those pirate hats covering his face, like they found in your room?

Suite, I said reflexively.

She ignored me and shook her head. The maid didn t want to say anything; she s from Venezuela, scared to lose her green card. But she gave a good description. And two of the cooks saw them coming in from the loading dock, too. Also, the waiter at breakfast confirms that you were with your family in the dining room at the time, so

I thought about it, nursing a tiny spark of hope as it grew into a glimmer. It was unlike Crowley to be so sloppy, but I suppose he had been surprised by Hood and had to improvise. I had a quick mental picture of the two of them trying to follow me at the same time and tripping over each other; comic hijinks result, leading to the hilarious bludgeoning death of Detective Hood. Maybe Crowley had panicked, maybe he had just been riding his luck and feeling invincible. I would never know, and it didn t really matter. Somehow, he had gotten away with it. Nobody had seen him kill Hood, and nobody had stopped him when he moved the body into my room. But of course, people see only what they expect to see, and precious little of that, so the only surprise was that anybody had noticed anything at all.

But the true marvel was that I could see a real live light at the end of what had been a very long, very dark tunnel. I breathed a tentative sigh of relief and looked at my sister, and she looked back.

So I m off the hook in Key West? I said.

She nodded. It gets better, she told me. Fucking Doakes really shit the bed this time.

I hope it was his own bed, I said.