The Bright Silver Star by David Handler

Author:David Handler [Handler, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780786262892
Publisher: Thorndike Press
Published: 2002-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

IT WAS SUCH A sultry, sticky morning that there wasn’t even a breath of breeze out on Big Sister. Mitch could barely make out the Old Saybrook Lighthouse through the haze as he stood at his windows, drinking his morning coffee and listening to the shrill whine of the cicadas in the trees. The Plum Island workboat was chugging its way out, the Sound as calm as a bathtub. But no summer yachtsmen were setting out for a day’s sail. There was no point in leaving the boatyard when the weather was like this.

He hadn’t slept well. For one thing, Clemmie was way unhappy about him traipsing off to New York that way. She made her displeasure known by bounding across his bed like a playful faun every half hour all night long. In Clemmie World, this was known as payback.

Not that Mitch would have been able to sleep anyway. Not after he’d made the mistake of checking the Web sites of the New York tabloids to see what they’d be featuring about Tito’s death in their morning editions.

Garbage, that’s what.

Snide quotes from unnamed sources implicating him in Tito Molina’s death. Dirty hints that he knew more than he’d let on, possibly even had something to do with it. . . . Obviously, the authorities want to learn everything they can from him . . .. Why on earth did someone, anyone, think he was holding out? Mitch didn’t have the slightest idea. But he did find it deeply, deeply disturbing. Despite his own best efforts, he was being turned into a featured player in this ongoing media sideshow . . . . And costarring chubby, good-natured Mitch Berger as the thinking man’s Kato Kaelin . . . And now he had no control over what was happening to him. Zero. None.

And so he’d tossed and he’d turned all night long as the ceiling fan stirred the warm, steamy air around his sleeping loft and Clemmie periodically leaped across his stomach, yowling. And he was up well before dawn, getting shaved and dressed. Naturally, as soon as he started stirring Clemmie curled up in his chair and went fast to sleep, one paw over her eyes to block out the rising sun.

Mitch didn’t log on to his computer. He didn’t want to read any more stories connecting him to Tito’s death. He didn’t even want to look at his own story about Tito in this morning’s paper.

What he wanted was to get his life back.

He was looking forward to his daily hike with the Mesmers. He could use a good honest dose of Dodge Crockett’s upbeat reassurance, Will Durslag’s croissants and quiet strength, even Jeff Wachtell and his kvetching.

But there was no Dodge waiting there in the haze when he trudged his way across the causeway with his birdwatcher’s glasses— just big Will and little Jeff.

“Hey, man, we missed you yesterday,” Jeff called to him cheerfully.

“I had to wait around for the police.”

“Do they seriously consider you a suspect?”

“I seriously don’t know.

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