Dexter's Final Cut (Dexter 7)

“Anderson totally blew off Detective Echeverria,” Debs said. “So his captain called Matthews and demanded an explanation, and now I am in the shit house.”

“You?” I said. “For what?”

“For interfering with Anderson’s investigation,” Debs said. “Which he doesn’t actually have.”

“And for luring Echeverria down here from New York,” Jackie said. “Apparently, it breaks the unwritten code.”

“Somebody should write that down,” I said.

“And so now,” Deborah said, with an ironic wave of her hands, “we have a free hand and we will catch this sick cocksucker and fuck ’em all.” She shrugged. “While I am being punished.”

“Bread and water in the stockade?” I said.

“Worse,” she said. “I have been officially notified to stay away from Anderson’s investigation—”

“Which includes,” Jackie butted in, very bubbly, “not giving him any more leads, tips, or conjectures that might interfere with his casework.”

“Well, then,” I said. “That’s a perfect punishment.”

“And,” Deborah said, making a face, “I have to stay on as technical adviser to Jackie’s show during the whole shoot.” She gave me an ironic smile. “So do you.”

“Oh,” I said, wondering how I could possibly survive being around Robert for so long. I guess my face showed what I was thinking, because Jackie made a snorting noise.

“Guys,” Jackie said. “It’s not that bad. I mean, there’s really great food on the set, and it’s all free.”

“Great,” Deborah said. “I can eat doughnuts while the bodies pile up around Anderson.”

“Well, if there’s doughnuts,” I said.

Deborah shook her head. “And that’s all it takes to make you happy?”

“That—and the party going on down in the lab. It’s really very festive.”

“A festive forensics lab?” Jackie said, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “That’s quite a trick.”

“One of the other actors arrived,” I said. “Renny Boudreaux?”

“Oh, God, he’s a scream,” Jackie said, shaking her head. She looked at Debs, who raised one eyebrow. “A terrific comedian. I mean, he’s a total dick, but a really funny one.”

Deborah snorted. “A funny dick,” she said. “Great concept,” and the two of them snickered like sorority sisters.

The Town Car was waiting for us at the front door. It was the same driver again, and I waved Jackie into the backseat, sliding in next to her on the other side. We rode in silence most of the way. Jackie looked out the window at the traffic, every now and then glancing at me. I glanced back, wondering what she was thinking, but she gave me no clue, except for an occasional small and weary smile. She was clearly far too busy thinking deep thoughts to make light conversation, so I let her think, and I drifted away into a mellow reverie of my own.

Just before we went up the on-ramp onto the expressway, a loud bang! sounded behind our car, and we both jumped several inches off the seat. I looked out the back window; a motorcycle had backfired as it wove its way along the white line between the far more ponderous cars. I gave Jackie a reassuring smile, and she sank back into her thoughtful silence.

At the intersection with the Dolphin Expressway traffic slowed to a crawl as everyone paused to look at an ivory-colored Jaguar pulled halfway onto the shoulder. A thick stream of smoke came out one window, and a very large man stood beside it, yelling at a thin, elegantly dressed woman. She puffed on a huge cigar and looked bored as the man shouted at her, the veins in his neck visibly bulging.

“I think I’m starting to like Miami,” Jackie said as we crept past the Jaguar and its little piece of theater.

“More than L.A.?” I said.

She made a face. “Nobody really likes L.A.,” she said. “We just have to live there. Part of our deal with the devil.” And then she went quiet again, just looking out the window of the Town Car and thinking her thoughts, until we pulled up in front of the hotel at last.

The doorman with the talented nephew held the front door for us, and Jackie rewarded him with a smile. “Thank you, Benny,” she said. “Are you working late tonight?”

Benny beamed at her. “I took a double shift, Miss Forrest,” he said. “I can use the dough, and anyway, I gotta be honest, while you’re here? I don’t wanna go home.”

Jackie widened her smile and patted him on the arm. “Well, I wouldn’t want anybody else on the door, either,” she said, and Benny smiled so widely that I thought his face might split. But there were no screams of pain from bursting cheeks behind us as I escorted Jackie to the elevator, and when the doors slid shut Jackie closed her eyes and shook her head.