The Snow White Christmas Cookie bam-9

by David Handler

  Joey Amalfitano took another loud slurp of his coffee before he said, “What this thing is, maybe. We’re spending more and more of our time going after dealers of stolen prescription meds. They sell them at a cut-rate price to low-wage working people who have no access to health insurance-diabetics, asthmatics, women who need birth control pills and so on. I’m not talking about a couple of skeejie characters peddling Oxy in a dark alley. These are organized, highly profitable black-market pharmacies that are operating under the protection of the Castagno crime family. Last summer we busted an operation in Bridgeport that was selling meds in broad daylight out of ice cream trucks at the playgrounds. The kids were buying Rocky Road. The grown-ups were buying Celebrex.”

  “And this wasn’t counterfeit stuff from China or whatever?” Grisky asked.

  “The real stuff,” The Aardvark assured him. “It’s turning into a huge problem for us. There is absolutely no way we can choke off the demand. Not when so many people are barely scraping by. So we’re attacking it from the supply end. We have an ongoing investigation into a gang that exists for the sole purpose of stealing prescription drugs for these black-market pharmacies. Some of these guys were connected with the gang we took down in Bridgeport. They’re still operating-with the blessing of the Castagnos-in places like New Haven, New London and Norwich. And they have a million different ways of getting what they need. The big-timers go after drug warehouses and delivery trucks. I’m talking armed, serious pros. Lower down on the food chain you’ve got hundreds of hustlers who gobble it up wherever they can find it. They steal it from the curbside mailboxes in wealthy rural towns like this one. And they have legions of little people who do their dirty work for them. Some of these people are pharmacy cashiers, motel chambermaids, cleaning ladies and the like. A lot of them are ordinary high school kids who’re just looking to score some pot or coke. You wouldn’t believe what these kids are lifting from their parents’ medicine chests. They swap it for their own drug of choice, legal or illegal, or for just plain old cash-which, as we know, never goes out of style. None of it’s real flashy, but it’s very profitable and it’s everywhere.” He glanced over at Questa. “If you discover that the postal service has some bad apples diverting prescription meds from the supply trucks into the hands of these guys then we may be able to bring down some major players. These are nasty boys, Inspector.”

  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.”

  “You used to be lazy. You’re not anymore.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I have a feeling about these things.”

  Des heard a noise out in the hall and Kylie’s mammoth, bearded father appeared in the doorway, glowering at her. She stepped out of the room and joined him.

  “What do you want now?” demanded Lem, who wasn’t in a particularly friendly mood today.

  “Just came by to see how you folks are holding up,” she said, glancing around for Tina.

  “My wife’s in the ladies room. Anything I can do for you?”

  “Actually, there is something I wanted to ask you. Did you tell Pat Faulstich to plow the driveways on Kinney Road last evening?”

  “Kinney Road?” Lem scratched at his long, not-so-clean beard. “I’ve only got two customers up there, the Beckmans and the Shermans. I usually handle ’em myself. Don’t recall telling Pat to go up there. Slipped my mind, I guess, what with Kylie and all. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he did. He has a lot of initiative. Well, some initiative. I hear that’s where you found Hank Merrill.”

  “You hear right. I ran into Pat while I was at the scene. He told me he was making his first pass of the day through there. I wondered if you might have sent one of your other drivers to Kinney Road earlier. Someone who could help us verify what time Hank arrived there.”

  “That’s a no. I didn’t even talk to any of my other men yesterday. Just Pat.” Lem glanced down the hallway at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Well, well, speak of the devil…”

  Pat Faulstich was trudging his way toward them carrying a bunch of tulips and looking extremely uneasy.

  Lem noticed how uncomfortable his young driver seemed. “What’s the trouble, Pat? Did one of our trucks screw the pooch?”

  “No, sir,” Pat said. “Everything’s fine. Just came by to, you know, pay my respects.”

  “Aw, hey, that’s awful nice of you. I’ll be sure to give those to Kylie.”

  “Maybe Pat would like to give them to her himself,” Des suggested.

  “Why, sure. What am I thinking? Go right on in, son.”

  Pat studied the floor bashfully. “You don’t think she’d mind?”

  “You kidding me?” Lem said. “She’ll be happy for the company.”

  Pat squared his shoulders and went on in.

  “I suppose she could do worse,” Lem said with a shrug.

  Tina came darting down the hall toward them now, looking bug-eyed with fright at the sight of Des standing there. “What is it now?” she demanded.

  “It’s nothing, hon,” Lem assured her. “Relax, will you?”

  “I am relaxed. I want to know why she’s-”

  “I just stopped by to look in on Kylie,” Des said.

  Lem’s cell phone rang. He glanced down at the screen. “It’s one of my men. I got nothing but headaches this season, I swear.” He went off down the hall, grumbling into the phone.

  “One of his men, my ass,” Tina said sourly. “It’s that tramp Debbie.”

  “Could be. Then again, we did have a blizzard yesterday.”

  Tina glared at her. “Did you come here just to be nasty again?”

  “I’m sorry if that’s how I came across. I was just doing my job. And I wondered how you were doing.”

  “I’m doing lousy, okay?” Tina shot a glance over her shoulder to make sure Lem was out of earshot. “Matt left for Cabo San Lucas this morning with his wife. They’ll be there straight on through Christmas. Together in the same hotel room, day and night. My Matt and that cold bitch. I need him right now and I can’t contact him. She watches him like a hawk.”

  “She’s his wife, Tina.”

  “Matt doesn’t love her. He loves me. I don’t know what to do.”

  “You could try using this as an opportunity to reconnect with Lem. You two will be taking Kylie home soon. Maybe this is a chance for you to regroup as a family. Maybe something positive can come out of this.”

  “And maybe you are totally full of crap. Did that ever occur to you?” Tina looked at Kylie’s doorway, frowning. “Is that her surgeon in there with her?”

  “No, it’s Pat Faulstich.”

  “What does he want?”

  “He brought her some flowers.” Des moved farther away from the room, motioning for Tina to join her. “You told me yesterday that if I really want to know what’s what I should ask a cleaning lady. So I’m asking. What do you know about Pat?”

  “I know I don’t like him.”

  “Why not?”

  Tina hesitated. “Look, his parents are decent, hard-working people. But he’s got this older brother, Mickey, who he really looks up to, okay? And Mickey’s absolutely no good.”

  “Don’t think I’ve run across him.”

  “That’s because he’s been in prison in Virginia for the past couple of years. He got pulled over down there with something like three hundred pounds of marijuana in the trunk of his Camaro.”

  “Do you know if Pat hangs with Casey Zander?”

  “Nobody hangs with Casey. He’s a total mama’s boy. Not to mention just plain weird. Have you seen that haircut of his? I swear, Paulette must have dropped him on his head when he was a baby.”

  “What’s Casey’s deal with Gigi Garanski?”

  Tina’s face fell. “There’s no deal. Gigi’s just a pathetic, drugged-out mess. She was such a sweet little girl, too. Her folks lived next door to mine. I used to baby-sit her when she was a kid. It makes me sick what’s happened to her.”

  “Tommy Stratton’s her boyfriend?”

  “Pimp is more like it. He passes her around to those horny losers at the
Rustic like she’s a bowl of peanuts. She’ll do anyone Tommy tells her to as long as he keeps her supplied with dope. Tommy the Pinhead is total trash.”

  Total trash, Des reflected, who happened to have low-level ties to the Castagno crime family.

  “He gave Kylie the eye when were at the supermarket together last week. I said to him, ‘What are you looking at, you piece of filth?’ He just blew me a kiss and went sauntering off like he thinks he’s some big shot.” Tina peered at Des curiously. “Why are you asking me all of this?”

  “Just trying to figure something out. I have an itch I can’t scratch.” Des’s cell phone rang. She glanced down at it before she excused herself and took the call. “What’s up, Yolie?”

  “Grisky wants to hold another team meeting at two o’clock.”

  “What for?”

  “He told me that he likes to touch base regularly with his quarterbacks.”

  “I see myself more as a shifty wide receiver.”

  “Real? I see myself placekicking that man’s buns of steel all the way out to Block Island.”

  “What have you got that you didn’t have this morning?”

  “Plenty. I’ll fill you in when I see you.” Then Yolie rang off.

  Des was alone in the hospital hallway. Tina had gone into Kylie’s room to hurl herself between Kylie and Pat. Lem was still off somewhere talking on the phone to whomever he was talking to. Maybe Debbie. Des couldn’t imagine him talking to one of his men for this long. She stood there for a moment before she found herself speed dialing Mitch for no reason other than that she needed to hear his voice right now. Needed a brief moment where everything and everyone in the world didn’t feel completely dysfunctional and insane. Because it wasn’t an itch she was feeling. It was pure dread. She didn’t know why. Just knew that she felt it. And needed a dose of Mitch’s sunny, calming self.

  Except he wasn’t answering his cell or his home phone. Mitch had been planning to take Rut Peck over to visit Paulette. Then he was going to drive Rut back to Essex Meadows and head on home. He ought to be there by now, she figured, glancing at her watch. Ought to be parked squarely in front of his computer writing crazy, funny, brilliant things about his all-time favorite Christmas movies. But he wasn’t. He hadn’t checked in either. Hadn’t called her. Hadn’t texted her.