Dexter Is Delicious (Dexter 5)

I could see Alvarez struggling to control himself; Deborah didn’t need to struggle. She was used to this, which is not the same thing as saying she liked it. “I am in charge,” she said, “because I am the best and I have earned it. If you have a problem with that, too bad.”

Spanos looked at her, shook his head. “I don’t like this,” he said. “It should be a man.”

“Mr. Spanos,” Deborah said, “if you have something to say, spit it out. If not—I am trying to catch a killer here, and you are wasting my time.” She glared at him, and he looked uncertain. He glanced at his wife, who compressed her lips and then nodded, and Spanos turned to Mr. Ponytail. “Clear the room,” he said, and Ponytail took a step toward Deke.

“Back off,” Deborah barked, and Ponytail froze. “We’re not clearing the room,” she said. “This is a police station.”

“I have something for your ears only,” Spanos said. “I want it confidential.”

“I’m a cop,” Debs said. “You want confidential, get a lawyer.”

“No,” Spanos said. “This is for you only, for the head of the investigation, not these other guys.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Debs said.

“Just this once,” Spanos said urgently. “It’s my little girl.”

“Mr. Spanos,” Deborah said.

Mrs. Spanos leaned forward. “Please,” she said. “It will only take a minute.” She reached over and grabbed Deborah’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s important,” she said. “For the investigation.” She saw Deborah look uncertain, just for a second, and she squeezed the hand again. “It will help you find them,” she said in a seductive whisper.

Deborah pulled her hand away and looked at the two of them. Then she glanced up at me for an opinion, and I admit I was curious, so I just shrugged.

“Your guys wait in the hall,” Deborah said at last. “I’ll send out two of my guys.”

Spanos shook his head. “Just you and us,” he said. “So it’s family.”

Deborah jerked her head in my direction. “My brother stays,” she said, and Mr. and Mrs. Spanos looked at me.

“Your brother,” he said, and looked at Mrs. Spanos; she nodded. “All right.”

“Mackenzie,” Mr. Spanos said, holding out his hand. The guy with the buzz cut came over and gave him the suitcase. “You and Harold wait outside,” Spanos said, placing the suitcase on his lap, and the two bodybuilders marched to the door and went out. “Sergeant?” he said to Debs, and she waved at Deke.

“Deke, Alvarez,” she said, “keep an eye on those two guys in the hall.”

“I’m s’posa keep an eye on you,” Deke said. “Captain said.”

“Get out,” Debs said. “Two minutes.”

Deke stared at her stubbornly for a moment, and then Alvarez stepped over and put a hand on his back. “Come on, sport,” he said. “Boss lady says go, we go.”

Deke jutted out his dimpled chin at Deborah, and for just a second he looked every inch the manly Saturday-morning TV hero. “Two minutes,” he said. He looked at her a little longer, as if he was going to say something else, but apparently he couldn’t think of anything, so he merely turned away and went out. Alvarez gave Debs a mocking smile and followed.

The door closed behind them, and for a second nobody moved. Then Mr. Spanos made a grunting noise and plopped the aluminum suitcase into Deborah’s lap. “Open it,” he said.

Deborah stared at him. “Go on, open it,” he said. “It won’t explode.”

She stared for just a second longer, and then she looked down at the suitcase. It had two locks holding it closed and she slowly undid them and then, with a last look at Spanos, she flipped the lid open.

Deborah looked inside and froze absolutely still, her hand motionless on the raised lid and her face caught between expressions—and then she looked up at Spanos with one of the coldest expressions I had ever seen. “What the fuck is this,” she said through her teeth.

Having human feelings was new to me, but having curiosity was not, and I leaned forward for a look, and it did not take a great deal of scrutiny to see what the fuck it was.

It was money. Lots of it.

From the visible top layer it appeared to be bundles of hundred-dollar bills, all with the bank’s tape around them. The suitcase was crammed full, so full that I didn’t see how Spanos had gotten it closed, unless Mr. Ponytail had stood on top while Spanos locked it.

“Half a million dollars,” Spanos said. “In cash. Untraceable. I deliver it anywhere you say. Cayman Islands bank, whatever.”