The Snow White Christmas Cookie (13 page)

“Really can’t imagine.”

“He said ‘Every time I’m inside of you I feel like I’m where I was meant to be all along.’ Lem’s never felt that way about me. Not even when we were a couple of sex-crazed teenagers. And now he doesn’t even want me. He wants Debbie, who’s not even that good-looking anymore. Which Matt is, by the way. He’s tall and slim with good shoulders and strong hands. He has the most amazing blue eyes.”

“And you know this how?”

“He sends me pictures of himself.”

“Nude pictures?”

Tina reddened again, nodding. “And I send him pictures of me. I take them in the bathroom mirror with my phone.”

“You’re not worried that he might show them to someone else?”

“Matt would never do that to me. Our relationship is built on trust.”

“And what about Lem? Aren’t you afraid he might find a nude photo of Matt on your computer?”

“Lem doesn’t want me anymore, I told you.”

“That’s right, you did,” Des said with a twinge of profound sadness. Not because what Tina Champlain was telling her was shocking, but because it wasn’t. The Champlains were just a typical modern Dorset family. None of them were participating in their own lives. Instead of working toward a genuine career, Kylie wanted to be a reality TV star. Tina was more emotionally and sexually involved with her cell phone than with her husband. And Lem was reliving his glory days with his first girlfriend while Champlain Landscaping seemed to be circling the drain. Kylie had stolen a pair of four-hundred-dollar Ugg boots to keep her dream alive. Tina was sending and receiving pornographic text messages and photographs. What was Lem resorting to? Was he siphoning off money from his own business to pay for those trysts with Debbie at the Mohegan Sun? Was he stealing prescription meds, gift cards and Hank Merrill’s Christmas tips? “Tina, this is the part where I have to tell you something you won’t want to hear.”

Tina frowned at her. “About Kylie?”

“About
Matt
. You have no idea who he really is, okay?
Matt
could be some sleaze in Croatia who’s peddling those pictures of you on a porn site.
Matt
could be the online identity of a half-dozen horny sophomores in a frat house somewhere.
Matt
could be a predator who’s looking to steal your identity or nuke your credit.”

Tina’s eyes hardened. “Why would you say something horrible like that?”

“Because it’s my job to look out for you. I’ve seen what can happen. I’ve seen an innocent blond schoolgirl who thought she was meeting up at West Farms Mall with this nice high school boy she’d met on Facebook. There was no nice high school boy. She was abducted and gang raped by a wolf pack for forty-eight hours straight before they left her for dead.”

“Des, I’m not fourteen years old. I know what I’m doing. But I get where you’re coming from.”

“Do you?”

“Absolutely. You think I’m stupid.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do,” Tina said angrily. “So stupid that I can’t even tell what’s real. What I have with Matt is
real
. The way we make each other feel is
real.
He’s the best thing that’s happened to me in years and don’t you tell me otherwise. My daughter may never walk normal again. And she may go to jail. How dare you show up here and crap all over the one good thing I have going on in my life? Who in the hell do you think you are?”

C
HAPTER
8

“
I
NEED A SECOND
opinion here, doughboy. Is Tina just playing harmless X-rated cyber-games or is she cheating on her husband?”

“It’s no game. She’s totally cheating on Lem.”

“Even though she and Matt have never actually bumped skin?”

“Tina’s emotionally and sexually involved with the guy. That means she’s having an affair with him.”

They were snuggled together on the love seat in front of a roaring fire, sipping Chianti and enjoying the aroma of Mitch’s meat loaf with pancetta and onions as it baked in the oven. He still had to mash the potatoes and sautée the chard. But he was in no hurry. He could sit here like this all night with Des, who had changed out of her uniform into the gray four-ply cashmere robe that he’d bought for her in Paris on his way home from the Cannes Film Festival. Clemmie and Quirt were nestled together in an easy chair. Des’s yellow string bikini was back up on the Chanukah bush where it belonged. Outside, the snow had turned to frozen rain. He could hear it tapping on the roof and windows. On the stereo was
Everybody Knows This is Nowhere,
a highly addictive vintage album from Neil Young’s Crazy Horse days.

“But, Mitch, it’s not real.”

“Beg to differ, little lady. How she feels about Matt is real. Her sexual responses are real. Therefore, the betrayal is real. We’re living in a not-so brave new world now. The line between real and virtual has gotten really blurred. There are a lot of lonely, unhappy people out there. Many of them are married people who are desperate to become someone, anyone, else. Dating sites allow them to create a whole new identity. They meet new people, get involved, get laid. They even fall in love.”

“That’s not real love. And it’s for damned sure not my idea of real sex.” Des sipped her wine, staring into the fire. “Sometimes I get the feeling that things have stopped making sense.”

“You’re not alone. I get that feeling a lot.”

“Does it scare you?”

“It can. But then I hug you and I’m not scared anymore.”

She leaned over and kissed him softly. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that. I get all gooey inside and then I’m no good for anything.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” He stroked her face, studying her with concern. “You look whipped.”

“Only because I am. After I visited the Champlains I had to log face time with my troop commander in Westbrook. Explain to him up, down and sideways why I didn’t just put out a BOLO on Kylie and let her go.”

“Are you going to get in trouble over this?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t provoke the chase. And I tried to talk her out of her car. I’ve got witnesses who’ll corroborate that. But I had to file a detailed incident report. And it’ll definitely be reviewed by Internal Affairs.”

“Sounds to me like we’d better watch
Palm Beach Story
after dinner.”

“
Again
? I’ve already watched that damned movie three times.”

“Is that all? Then we definitely need to see it. That sequence when Claudette Colbert escapes on the train with the Ale and Quail Club has to be the funniest ten minutes Preston Sturges ever filmed. Pure gold.” He got up and put another log on the fire. “You have no idea how lucky you are.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that right?”

“You could have gotten mixed up with a critic who’s a Danny Kaye fan. Then you’d be sorry. He’d make you sit through
The Man From the Diner’s Club
over and over and over again. No two ways about it—you dodged a bullet when you met me.”

Des gazed out the bay window at the lights in the windows next door. “How’s Josie holding up?”

“Amazingly well considering the day she’s had. First Bryce, then Kylie. Plus Casey Zander showed up out here and got creepy on her.”

“Creepy as in?…”

“He has a major crush on her. Josie asked him politely to go home. He refused. I had to encourage him. It got a little physical—nothing serious—before he finally left. After the funeral home people carted Bryce’s body away she started right in on her to-do list. She’s incredibly organized and take-charge. I guess it helps to be a professional life coach. When I left her she was already boxing up Bryce’s possessions. She has to call his attorney, Glynis, to find out what to do with them.” Mitch refilled their wineglasses and sat back down. “She and Casey were lucky they weren’t seriously hurt when Kylie slammed into her office. She’ll have a shiner from that ceiling tile whacking her in the eye but it could have been a lot worse.”

Des pulled in her stomach muscles ever so slightly. So slightly that most people wouldn’t have noticed it. Mitch wasn’t most people.

He sipped his wine, studying her over his glass. “There’s something you really want to avoid telling me. What is it?”

She looked at him in amazement. “I can’t hide a thing from you, can I?”

“Don’t even try.”

“Look, this is kind of awkward for me. I know that you like Josie.”

He nodded. “And I know that you don’t.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You get all stiff-necked whenever she’s around.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me. What do you want to tell me?”

“When I dashed into her office I found her having sex on the sofa with Casey. Rough sex. That’s how she got the shiner. Casey hit her in the eye. When I spoke to her about it she insisted that it was strictly a role-playing exercise. Casey has confidence issues with women and she’s been trying to help him out. I asked her point-blank if they’re romantically involved. She told me point-blank that they aren’t.”

“But you didn’t believe her.”

“Mitch, I saw what I saw.”

“She told me she got hit in the eye by a ceiling tile.”

“Casey’s the one who tangled with the ceiling tile. Josie lied to you.”

He listened to the frozen rain tapping on the roof, frowning. “I’ve been around a lot of world-class liars. I’m talking about movie producers, agents. She’s a damned good one.”

“How much has she told you about her background?”

“Josie isn’t someone who talks about her childhood. All I know is she grew up in Maine and graduated from Bates. She used to live with some guy up in Castine who liked to write sci-fi. After they broke up she moved down here and became a life coach.”

“She has a Web site. Have you ever checked it out?”

“No, I haven’t. Why?”

“Well, for starters her bio doesn’t say she graduated from Bates. It says she studied there. That’s a classic resume padder. If you audit a summer school class somewhere you can say you studied there. Her bio also boasts that she’s a fully accredited professional life coach. Remember how she mentioned that to us this morning?”

“I remember.”

“Do you have any idea what it actually means?”

“Not really.”

“It means that Josie completed an online degree program and then became officially certified by the American Life Coach Federation. Which sounds really impressive except, hello, it’s not. The American Life Coach Federation and the online degree program are one and the same entity. The outfit that enrolls you in its degree program—at a cost of around three grand—also serves as its very own certifying agency. Josie hasn’t been accredited by any official agency that’s regulated by the State of Connecticut. She
bought
her accreditation from a for-profit outfit.”

“So you think she’s a scam artist?”

“I think I’m not so sure how qualified she is to be doing what she’s doing. And after walking in on her and Casey getting sweaty, well, I’m not entirely sure
what
she’s doing.” Des trailed off into uncomfortable silence. “I’m not loving any of this. I know Josie’s your friend, and I’m fine with that.”

“Really? Because I’m not. I don’t stay friends with people who lie to my face. That’s generally a deal breaker for me.” The rain on the roof sounded quieter now. It had switched from frozen to plain old rain. “Did you get anywhere with our grinch?”

“I found out that it’s a whole lot bigger than some kids swiping Hank’s Christmas cookies. Prescription meds are disappearing. That’s serious business. I’m kicking it to the postal inspectors tomorrow. It’s their case.”

“Now that you bring it up something has occurred to me.”

“Um, okay,
you
brought it up. And something
always
occurs to you.” Des gazed at him sternly before she rolled her eyes and said, “What is it?”

“That the right answer’s often the most obvious one.”

“You mean that Hank’s been stealing the stuff himself?”

“Exactly.”

“That did occur to me,” she conceded. “It would explain why Paulette’s been acting so tense. Maybe she’s been thinking it, too. Last thing in the world she’d want to do is bring down her own boyfriend. But answer me this—why would Hank resort to stealing his own mail?”

“He has big-time money problems. According to Rut Peck he owes his ex-wife a fortune.”

“Paulette mentioned he’d had a personal setback. He even started smoking again. You do know who helped him quit, don’t you?”

“Are we back to Josie again?”

“Does Rut think that Hank’s capable of something that extreme?”

“Absolutely. Mind you, Rut’s not exactly Hank’s biggest fan.”

“Why not?”

“Because he sees him a rival for Paulette’s affections. Like I told you—Rut’s real sweet on her.”

“The only mail that’s been disappearing is the mail on Hank’s route,” she said slowly. “If Hank has serious money problems then you’d have to take a good, hard look at him. I watched him deliver packages up and down Dorset Street today. Didn’t see him do a thing that wasn’t kosher. But I’d just spoken with him at the Post Office. Maybe he was just being careful.”

“You’d have to catch him in the act, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d have to catch him with other people’s mail in his wrongful personal possession. Except it’s not going to be me. It’s the postal inspectors who’ll go at him. And they’ll go at him hard.”

“There’s no way around that?”

“If he turned himself in they might cut him a deal. He’d have to give up his buyer.”

“What buyer?”

“Someone has been gobbling up those stolen prescription meds. Hank would have to finger that individual along with whoever else he’s been doing business with. If he did that he’d have a chance. He’s a solid career employee, active in the community.”

“But he’d lose his job.”

“Hell yes, he’d lose his job. But if Hank’s our grinch then he’ll have to pay the price.” Her cell phone rang. Des reached for it on the coffee table and took the call, her face tightening as she listened. Then she rang off and started toward the bathroom. Her uniform was hanging on the back of the door in there. “You’d better eat dinner without me. I’m going to be gone for a while.”