Free Dearly Devoted Dexter by Jeff Lindsay Page B

other lab techs, and not just because we took turns bringing in doughnuts. He always seemed to be faking his way through life, too, as if he had watched a series of videos to learn how to smile and talk to people. He was not quite as talented at pretending as I was, and the results were never as convincing, but I felt a certain kinship.
    Right now he looked flustered and intimidated, and he seemed to be trying hard to swallow without any real luck. No clue there.
    Camilla Figg was sitting at attention, staring at a spot on the wall in front of her. Her face was pale, but there was a small and very round spot of red color on each cheek.
    Deborah, as mentioned, was slumping down in her chair and seemed very busily engaged in turning bright scarlet.
    Chutsky slapped the palm of his hand on the table, looked around with a big happy smile, and said, “I want to thank you all for your cooperation with this thing. It’s very important that we keep this quiet until my people can move in on it.”
    Captain Matthews cleared his throat. “Ahem. I, uh, I assume you will want us to continue our routine investigative procedures and the, uh, interrogating of witnesses and so on.”
    Chutsky shook his head slowly. “Absolutely not. I need your people all the way out of the picture immediately. I want this whole thing to cease and desist, disappear—as far as your department is concerned, Captain, I want it never to have happened at all.”
    “Are YOU taking over this investigation?” Deborah demanded.
    Chutsky looked at her and his smile got bigger. “That’s right,” he said. And he probably would have kept smiling at her indefinitely if not for Officer Coronel, the cop who had sat on the porch with the weeping and retching old lady. He cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, okay, just a minute here,” and there was a certain amount of hostility in his voice that made his very slight accent a little more obvious. Chutsky turned to look at him, and the smile stayed on his face. Coronel looked flustered, but he met Chutsky’s happy stare. “Are you trying to stop us from doing our jobs here?”
    “Your job is to protect and serve,” Chutsky said. “In this case that means to protect this information and serve me.”
    “That’s bullshit,” Coronel said.
    “It doesn’t matter what kind of shit it is,” Chutsky told him. “You’re gonna do it.”
    “Who the fuck are you to tell me that?”
    Captain Matthews tapped the table with his fingertips. “That’s enough, Coronel. Mr. Chutsky is from Washington, and I have been instructed to render him every assistance.”
    Coronel was shaking his head. “He’s no goddamn FBI,” he said.
    Chutsky just smiled. Captain Matthews took a deep breath to say something—but Doakes moved his head half an inch toward Coronel and said, “Shut your mouth.” Coronel looked at him and some of the fight went out of him. “Don’t want to mess with this shit,” Doakes went on. “Let his people handle it.”
    “It isn’t right,” said Coronel.
    “Leave it,” said Doakes.
    Coronel opened his mouth, Doakes raised his eyebrows—and on reflection, looking at the face underneath those eyebrows, perhaps, Officer Coronel decided to leave it.
    Captain Matthews cleared his throat in an attempt to take back control. “Any more questions? All right then—Mr. Chutsky. If there’s any other way we can help . . .”
    “As a matter of fact, Captain, I would appreciate it if I could borrow one of your detectives for liaison. Somebody who can help me find my way around, dot all the t’s, like that.”
    All the heads around the table swung to Doakes in perfect unison, except for Chutsky’s. He turned to his side, to Deborah, and said, “How about it, Detective?”

 
    CHAPTER 9
     
    I HAVE TO ADMIT THE SURPRISE ENDING TO CAPTAIN Matthew’s meeting caught me off guard, but at least I now knew why everyone was acting so much like lab rats thrown into a lion’s cage. No one likes to have the