The Blood Red Indian Summer (20 page)

“Because this is the first time you’ve acted like
you
in I don’t know how long. I’ve tried everything. Honestly, Daddy, I was at my wit’s end. And the answer’s been staring me in the face all along—I just had to go rogue.”

“This is not funny, Desiree. There are rules. And those rules—”

“Exist for a very good reason, I know.”

“I cannot believe you roped in Yolanda.”

“She was free to say no. She’s her own woman.”

“Nonsense. She looks up to you. And who in the hell is
Toni
Tedone?”

“Their first
she
on Major Crimes. They call her Toni the Tiger. You’ll like her a lot.”

“That’ll be the day.” The Deacon despised the Tedones with every fiber of his being. It was Captain Richie Tedone of IA who’d tried to squeeze him out when he went in for his heart surgery. The asshole would have succeeded, too, if Des hadn’t squeezed back. “I
should
apprise their captain of what you have them doing. You’re just lucky that, technically speaking, I’m still on medical leave.”

“You could still pick up the phone. Why don’t you?”

He looked out at the lake. “Because I happen to agree with you. This one smells nasty.”

“Jamella has genuine doubts about Tyrone.”

“With good reason.”

“He says he’s cleaning up his act.”

“Not a chance. Men don’t change. They are who they are. He’s been
Da Beast
for his entire adult life. He’s made millions of dollars being
Da Beast
. He relishes it. This suspension by the NFL is nothing more than a minor bump in the road for him.”

“You haven’t met him, Daddy.”

“Don’t have to. I’ve known his kind since I was a boy in the schoolyard.”

“He’s complicated.”

“He’s a bully. There’s nothing complicated about it.”

“What did you and Calvin talk about while we were inside?”

“Calvin’s failure to assume responsibility for his own life. He’s filled with regret. And he knows more about this matter than he was willing to let on.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Calvin has spent a big chunk of his life in the yard. A man like that always holds on to a choice morsel or two of information. Information is power.” The Deacon thumbed his chin thoughtfully. “He’s also frightened.”

“Of?…”

“A few months ago the man was scuffing around the streets of Houston. Now he’s living in a waterfront mansion. If Jamella leaves Tyrone over this mess, he’ll be back out on the street again. He’s feeling vulnerable. And a little bit ashamed. It’s no fun for a middle-aged man to be dependent on his daughter.”

“Are we still talking about Calvin?”

The Deacon fell silent. He’d always been emotionally walled off. It had driven Des’s mother so nuts that she’d finally left him after twenty-five years of marriage.

“Daddy, you can go home tomorrow. And back to work whenever you’re ready. The doctor has cleared you. The only thing holding you back is your own uncertainty. Which I totally get. But you’ve still got game.”

“I couldn’t even hold off that piece of dirt Richie Tedone. You had to step in and save me.”

“Which I was glad to do.”

“There was a time when I would have eaten Richie Tedone for breakfast.”

“You were sick. You’re not sick anymore. You’re fine.”

“Sure, I’m fine,” he said in a hollow voice.

“Just let me change my clothes lickety-split, okay? You ready to go?”

“I don’t feel like company this evening, Desiree. Think I’ll just stay here and watch some TV.”

“But you’re all dressed.”

“So I’ll get all
un
dressed.”

“Please don’t do this to me, Daddy. The Bergers have flown all the way up here from Florida to meet you. They’re nice people. And you like Mitch.
Please
come to dinner with me.”

He looked down at his big hands. “Sure, okay.…”

Des darted into her bedroom with her stomach in knots. Changed from her uni into a white silk blouse and tan linen slacks. She was trying to decide whether or not to dab on lipstick when her cell rang. It was Yolie.

“What’s up, Miss Thing?”

“Just had a surprise visit from Jamella and her father,” Des informed her. “She’s afraid that Tyrone’s the father of Kinitra’s baby.”

“Well, that’s fairly damning.”

“Yeah, we thought so, too.”

“By ‘we’ you mean?…”

“My father and me.”

Yolie let out a gasp. “The Deacon know I’m working this with you?”

“I’m afraid so. But he’s cool. Well, not cool but he won’t say anything to your captain. What’ve you picked up?”

“Toni tracked down Lonnie Berryman through the University of Georgia Athletic Department. I just spoke to him on the phone. He told me Kinitra has been leaving him like twelve, fifteen text messages every day. Keeps telling him how much she loves him and wants to be with him again like when they were together in Glen Cove. Except, hear this, Lonnie swore to me they never
were
together. He told me he spoke to her for a little while at a pool party. She played him some of her music. And that was that. He never went near her. Just thought she was a cute kid. And now she’s practically stalking him. I asked him if he’d submit to a DNA test should it become necessary. He said he’d be happy to comply. Has no reason not to. The man
sounded
credible—unless he’s a lying dog.”

“Which is always a distinct possibility. What else?”

“We just caught up with Stewart Plotka and Andrea Halperin having themselves a drink by the pool at the Saybrook Point Inn. She jumped
all
over me when I asked Plotka where he was last night. Demanded to know why the Major Crime Squad was interested in his whereabouts
and
whether there was a criminal investigation underway
and
if so, what kind. I told her it was an unofficial inquiry. She told me I could unofficially go to hell. After some more warm, fuzzy sparring she decided to cooperate. Realized it was the only way she might learn something. Plus Plotka has nothing to hide. Or so she’s been led to believe. The two of them had dinner together last night right there at the inn. She went up to her room after dinner and worked until bedtime. Plotka hung out at the bar by himself and tried to hook a hottie. The waitress there, a good-looking blonde, told me Plotka kept bragging to her that he’d be coming into a lot of money soon. She was incredibly not interested. Thought Plotka was total scum.”

“This is a girl with keen instincts.”

“Plotka left the bar at about eleven. He told me he went straight to bed. But he has his own car parked out there in the lot. A Toyota Camry. The guests can access their rooms directly from the parking lot. Don’t have to go in and out by way of the front desk. Meaning he could have slipped out and driven to the Grantham place. Burrowed through that hole in the fence, gone after Kinitra and then returned to his room undetected. Toni’s at the New Haven newsroom of Channel Eight right now running their footage of the party for license plates. Maybe she’ll turn up Plotka’s Camry. She tried to get a guest list out of cousin Clarence but he wasn’t very helpful.”

“I smelled reefer smoke when I got there. He’s probably afraid that this could lead to a drug bust—which is the last thing in the world Tyrone needs right now.” Des dug a pair of sandals out of her closet and stepped into them. “Plotka’s media savvy. I don’t believe he’d park his car in full view of the news cameras. He’s not that dumb.”

“He’s that
something
.”

“Are you liking him for it?”

“Let’s just say I object to him using up our planet’s air, water and non-renewable fossil fuels.”

“But other than that, you’re a fan.”

Yolie let out a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Other than that, I am crushing on him huge.”

*   *   *

She drove her cruiser, the Deacon riding shotgun. He sat there straight and solemn in his gray flannel suit, big hands flat on his thighs, gaze fixed straight ahead. Didn’t say one word until she turned off Old Shore Road onto Turkey Neck.

“Since when is this the way to Big Sister Island?”

“I just have to make a quick stop, Daddy. It won’t take long.”

The usual mob of news crews, paparazzi and gawkers were clustered outside the Tyrone Grantham estate. The through-traffic was at a standstill despite the presence of the trooper who was trying to move drivers along.

The Deacon watched him with keen-eyed disapproval. “Does that trooper actually believe he’s helping matters by standing in the
middle
of the road?”

“I don’t know, Daddy. Would you like to ask him?”

“No,” he said stiffly. “Just drive on
if
you can. Paying a call on Mr. Grantham?”

“His next door neighbor.” Des inched her way past the Grantham place and pulled into the driveway of Justy Bond’s waterfront home. Two cars were parked out front. She parked alongside them and shut off her engine. “Couple of questions I need to ask, okay?”

“Whatever you need to do, Desiree. I’ll wait right here.”

“You will not. You’re coming with me. You were a big help just now with Calvin.”

“Don’t patronize me, young lady.”

“I’m not. I would never do that. But you don’t seem to realize how much
gravitas
you bring to the table. Please join me, will you?”

He climbed out of the car, glowering at her. “
Now
what are you grinning about?”

“This is epic, Daddy. I dreamt about this moment when I was a little girl but I never actually thought it would happen.”

“
What
would?”

“You and me—we’re actually working a case together.”

“We’re not ‘working a case.’ You’re playing a hunch
and
making a supremely clumsy effort to pump up my ego. You’re not fooling me, you know.”

“Daddy, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I swear, sometimes you’re just like your mother.”

“Um, okay, is that good thing?”

Bonita was swimming laps in the pool, her stroke steady and strong, the water gleaming on her tanned flesh. A shirtless, broad-shouldered June was down on the dock buttoning up the
Calliope
for the rainstorm that was forecast for later that evening. The sky was definitely turning grayer.

When Bonita noticed them there, she swam to the shallow end and got out, looking trim, toned and fabulous in her white bikini. “How nice to see you again, Trooper Des,” she said with a complete absence of warmth.

“Bonita, this is my father, Deputy Superintendent Mitry.”

She raised a speculative eyebrow at him. “Pleased to meet you.”

He studied her curiously. “Don’t I know you from those commercials? You used to be the Bond Girl.”

Bonita let out a throaty laugh. “You have a good memory. It’s been a while since I retired. These days I’m what’s known in polite Dorset society as a trophy bimbo.” She fetched a beach towel and dabbed herself dry. “Justy’s not here, I’m afraid. He’s got a regional dealership pow-wow up in Hartford. Probably won’t come rolling home until after eleven.”

“Actually, we’re here to speak to June.”

“In that case you’re in luck.” Bonita glanced down toward the dock at him. “He’s like a mother hen with that boat of his, I swear.”

Des and the Deacon started their way across the lawn toward him. No more than a hundred feet separated the
Calliope
from the dock where
Da Beast
was moored, looking long, low and positively obscene in the water. Tyrone Grantham’s little strip of private beach was plainly visible from there, too. The very beach from where Kinitra had taken her near fatal swim late last night.

“Hey, Des,” June said brightly as he scampered fore and aft, securing the
Calliope
’s lines.

“June, this is Deputy Superintendent Mitry. Also known as my father.”

“Glad to know you, sir. What can I do for you?”

“I understand you’ve been sleeping out here on the
Calliope
lately,” she said.

June’s eyes flicked across the lawn toward Bonita, who was now stretched out in a lounge chair. The Deacon followed his gaze, his own eyes narrowing fractionally. “Well, yeah,” June acknowledged. “Mitch … told you about that?”

“He told me you were prepping for an epic sea voyage. Wanted to get used to sleeping aboard.”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m sailing her down to the Florida Keys.”

“June, there was an incident next door late last night. I wondered if you might have heard something.”

“I heard their party, if that’s what you mean. It sounded outrageous. Tons of people, great music. Did my dad call you and complain? Because they quieted down real fast at around eleven o’clock. I’m guessing that’s when you showed up.”

“You’re guessing right.”

“He was out of line, Des. The party wasn’t that loud. Besides, people have a right to enjoy themselves, don’t they?”

“I was interested in something that happened later on.”

June lowered his eyes, swallowing uncomfortably. “Later on?”

“Maybe two, three o’clock in the morning. It was a warm night. I’m guessing you had your hatch open. Wondered if you might have overheard an altercation between a man and a woman on the beach over there.
Did
you have the hatch open?”

“Yeah, I did,” he murmured.

“Were you on board alone?”

“Callie didn’t stay over. She was pulling an all-nighter at the studio.”

“You didn’t answer the question, son,” the Deacon pointed out. “She asked if you were alone.”

June reddened. “Yeah, I was alone.”

No wonder June was no good at selling cars. He was one sucky liar.

“And I think I did hear something going on over there—now that you mention it. A couple woke me up some time in the middle of the night. I don’t know when. But it didn’t sound like any altercation. More like they, you know, snuck away after the party and were getting busy on the beach.”

“Did you hear anything besides them getting busy?”

June frowned. “Yeah, I heard someone spashing around in the water. I think it was her. Yeah, it was definitely her. Because the guy called out to her.”