Jesse was silent. Katie looked at him oddly, like she wanted something. Jesus Christ, she wants approval. He took a breath.
“Most people,” he said, “are probably doing mostly what they need to do. And maybe you need to do this. But it’s not a good way for you to live.”
“Why not,” she said.
“Again,” Jesse said, “long answer. Short version is you don’t become more important because a lot of people are willing to fuck you.”
“I’m not trying to be important,” she said. “I’m just having some fun.”
“I need the names of the other girls,” Jesse said.
“Are you going to tell them I told?”
Jesse looked at Molly, who had said not a word during the entire conversation. She shrugged and shook her head.
“To tell you the truth, Katie,” Jesse said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do. But I’ll start by taking names.”
1 6 9
35
J enn always brushed her teeth before bed.
Jesse lay in bed on his back with his hands clasped behind his head, watching her
through the open door of the bathroom. She was wearing one of his shirts, just the way she used to, and when she bent over to rinse her mouth, her butt showed. Jenn turned off the bathroom light and got into bed beside Jesse.
“Were you leering at me?” Jenn said.
“I was admiring your butt,” Jesse said.
“It is cute, isn’t it.”
“So you don’t mind admiring,” Jesse said.
S E A C H A N G E
“Admiring is good; leering is good.”
“I was admiring,” Jesse said.
Jenn tuned her head and kissed him lightly.
“Tell me about your day,” she said.
He knew she was mocking their domesticity.
“Any day that ends up with us in bed,” Jesse said, “is a good day.”
“Oh,” she said, “you charming devil.”
“I would like to get through with this floater case,” Jesse said. “It’s turned into a goddamned cesspool.”
“The one where you were watching the dirty movies?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s gotten worse.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
“I do,” Jesse said. “It’s one of the things I really missed when you were gone.”
“Talking to me?”
“I could always talk to you,” Jesse said.
“So talk,” Jenn said.
They had left the balcony doors open, and they could hear the sound of the harbor as Jesse talked, lying on his back in the nearly dark room, looking up the blank, uninteresting ceiling. Jenn turned on her side toward him as she listened.
Through the open French doors, they could hear a boat mo-tor. Softer, more persistent, so familiar in its endless rhythm as to be nearly soundless was the movement of the waves against the causeway at the south end of the harbor. Jenn 1 7 1
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
already knew some of the story, about the videotapes from Darnell. He told her the rest. He told her what Kelly Cruz had learned. He told her about Katie DeWolfe.
“So the bastards recruit?” Jenn said when he was finished.
“And apparently swap.”
“Tapes, too,” Jenn said, “wouldn’t you guess?”
“They probably leer at them,” Jesse said.
“Almost certainly,” Jenn said. “And, my God, what about the women on board? You know the older women? What are they?”
“Put the young ones at ease. Maybe. On the other hand, Katie says, they ‘jump right in.’”
“Jesus,” Jenn said. “You can get them both, can’t you? For statutory rape?”
“I can always do that,” Jesse said. “I want them for murder.”
“Both of them?”
“Whoever killed her,” Jesse said. “And whoever helped.
And whoever knew.”
“What if neither of them did it?” Jenn said.
“One of them did it. Maybe both.”
“You’re so sure?”
“I’m so sure.”
She continued to lie on her side, looking at him. He continued to look at the ceiling.
“If I was looking at your butt and just thinking it was a good-looking butt?” Jesse said after a while.
“That would be admiring,” Jenn said.
1 7 2
S E A C H A N G E
“And if I also imagined holding on to your butt while we were making wild and exotic love?”
“That would be leering.”
“And is one better than the other?” Jesse said.
“Jesse, this sex case is making you crazy,” Jenn said.
“You think?”
Jenn took in a deep breath.
“I am your main fucking squeeze,” she said. “You are supposed to admire me and leer at me and feel desire and act on it.”
“Act on it?”
“Yeah, act. That too much for you, Hamlet?”
Jesse grinned at her.
“Then out swords,” he said, “and to work withal.”
“That’s not Hamlet,” Jenn said.
“Jose Ferrer said it in some movie I saw.”
“That was Cyrano de Bergerac.”
“Close enough,” Jesse said, and pressed his mouth on hers.
1 7 3
36
T hanks for coming in, Mr. Ralston,” Jesse said.
Thomas Ralston’s head was shaved. He
had a deep tan. He was a little taller than Jesse. Six feet, maybe. And he was the kind of fat guy who pretends that it’s brawn. His white shirt had epaulets. It was unbuttoned halfway down his fat tan chest. He had on tan linen slacks and brown leather sandals. A gold cross on a thick chain nes-tled among the gray chest hairs. He kept his wraparound sunglasses on indoors.
“What’s this all about, Chief?” he said.
“Just routine,” Jesse said. “We’re looking into a homicide.
Woman from Fort Lauderdale named Florence Horvath.”
S E A C H A N G E
“Never heard of her,” Ralston said.
“Well, that answers one question,” Jesse said. “We think she may have come off one of the yachts here for Race Week.”
Ralston shrugged.
“So, you being registered in Fort Lauderdale and all.”
“Sure,” Ralston said. “Perfectly understandable. Why do you think she fell off a yacht.”
“I didn’t say she fell,” Jesse said.
“Whatever. You got any evidence?”
Jesse took out his head shots from the Horvath video.
“Know any of these three people?” Jesse said.
Ralston studied the pictures for a time, then shook his head and handed them back.
“Don’t know any of them,” he said.
Ralston took a leather cigar case out of his shirt pocket.
“Care for a cigar, Chief?” Ralston said. “The real thing. I’d deny it in court, of course. But genuine Cuban.”
“No thank you,” Jesse said.
Ralston shrugged and began to take out a cigar.
“There’s a town ordinance against smoking on town property,” Jesse said.
Ralston paused and shook his head and then put the cigar back in the case and the case back in his pocket.
“Amazing,” he said.
“Know anyone named Katie DeWolfe?” Jessie said.
Jesse could almost hear something click shut inside Ralston. He seemed to think about the name for a moment.
Then he shook his head.
1 7 5
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“No,” he said. “I don’t. Why do you ask?”
“Know Harrison Darnell?”
“Darnell?” Ralston said. “Yeah. Sure. I know him a little.
Not well. Just casual, you know? Yachting isn’t that big a world. He’s on the Lady Jane, I believe.”
&nbs
p; “Also out of Fort Lauderdale,” Jesse said.
“Oh, sure, that’s right. Of course. That’s why you’re asking. The Fort Lauderdale connection.”
“You think he might know Florence Horvath?” Jesse said.
“I just have no way to know, Chief . . . ?” Ralston looked at the nameplate on Jesse’s desk. “Jesse Stone, is it?”
Jesse nodded.
“I don’t know who Harrison Darnell knows or what he does.”
“What might he do?” Jesse said.
“I just told you I don’t know,” Ralston said. “I’m trying to be cooperative, Chief, but you seem hostile.”
Jesse nodded.
“Know anyone named Cathleen Holton?” Jesse said.
“No.”
“How about Corliss or Claudia Plum?”
“No. Who the hell are these people?”
“Mandy Morello?” Jesse said.
“No, for crissake, Chief. What’s going on here? You think I did something?”
“No,” Jesse said. “Just running through the list.”
“Well, no offense, but I’m getting tired of it. Can I leave?”
“Sure,” Jesse said. “Thanks for coming in.”
1 7 6
37
K elly Cruz was in the manager’s office at the marina near the Boat Club. The manager was appropriately windblown and sun-
tanned, wearing a marina staff polo shirt and khaki shorts.
There was, Kelly Cruz noticed, a cute tattoo on his left calf.
Kelly Cruz liked tattoos in discreet moderation.
“Wow,” the manager said. “You’re pretty good-looking, for a cop.”
“I’m pretty good-looking for a person,” Kelly Cruz said.
“My name’s Kelly Cruz.”
“Bob,” the manager said.
“Do you have assigned mooring here, Bob?”
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“Sure,” the manager said. “Otherwise it’d be a free-for-all when they came in.”
“So you got a record of the mooring locations,” Kelly Cruz said.
“Course.”
The manager had thick black hair, cut short. His forearms and hands looked strong. He was wearing a nice aftershave.
“May I see them?”
“You bet,” the manager said. “Come around, we got it all on computer.”
Kelly Cruz stood beside him while he punched up the listings.
“Lookin’ for anybody special?” he said.
“Thomas Ralston.”
The manager scrolled down.
“Here we go, he owns Sea Cloud. Number 10A.”
“How about Harrison Darnell?”
The manager scrolled again.
“He should be 8A or 12A. I remember . . . yeah, 12A . . .
I remember they made a point of insisting on side-by-side moorings.”
“They registered together?”
“We don’t call it registered, Kelly. But yeah. They came in a year, year and a half ago, said they wanted to be far out, and they had to be side by side.”
“Do you know either of these gentlemen, Bob?”
“Nope. Just saw them when they contracted the moorings.”
“Do you know why they wanted to be side by side?”
1 7 8
S E A C H A N G E
“Nope.”
“A guess?”
“Party together, I suppose. Two boats are better than one?”
“Two of most things are better than one,” Kelly Cruz said.
“Absolutely, Detective Kelly Cruz.”
“Kelly’s my first name.”
Bob grinned at her.
“I figured you weren’t Irish,” he said.
She smiled.
“You know anything interesting about either of these guys?” she said.
“Not a thing.”
“Know anybody named Florence Horvath?”
“Nope.”
“Corliss or Claudia Plum?”
“Nope. Great names, though,” Bob said. “You ever go out with people you’ve questioned, Kelly Cruz?”
“When I can get a babysitter.”
“Kids.”
“Yep.”
“Husband?”
“Nope.”
“That works,” Bob said.
“It does,” Kelly Cruz said, and handed Bob her card.
1 7 9
38
H ealy took his hat off and put it on the edge of Jesse’s desk.
“I’m on my way home,” he said.
“Way to go,” Jesse said.
“Which means I’m off duty.”
“Oh, yeah,” Jesse said.
He went to the file cabinet, got a bottle of Bushmill’s Black Label, poured about two inches into a water glass and handed it to Healy.
“You still can’t join me,” Healy said.
“Almost eleven months now,” Jesse said. “Not yet. Maybe never.”
S E A C H A N G E
“Day at a time,” Healy said.
He took a sip, and put his head back, and closed his eyes.
“You don’t have to enjoy it so fucking much,” Jesse said.
“Sorry,” Healy said. “But you remember what the first one was like at the end of the day.”
“I do,” Jesse said. “It’s the fifth or sixth one I have trouble recalling.”
“I’ll try to be unemotional about the next swallow,” Healy said.
“Appreciate it.”
“So,” Healy said. “You asked me to stop by.”
“Remember the floater we had?” Jesse said.
“Horvath,” Healy said. “Been a long time in the water.”
“Well, lemme bring you up to date,” Jesse said.
Healy nodded and sat back with his Irish whiskey and listened.
When Jesse was through, Healy thought about things for a moment. Then he said, “You can get them on statutory rape anytime you want.”
“Yes.”
“But when you do,” Healy said, “they’ll get lawyered to the eyeballs, and you won’t get another word out of them.”
“Correct.”
“And it’s pretty hard to leverage statutory rape into a murder confession.”
“Pretty hard,” Jesse said.
“So right now you’re just stirring the mix.”
Jesse nodded.
1 8 1
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“So what do you want with me?”
“I don’t want to lose them.”
“You afraid they’ll run?”
“They know I’m interested,” Jesse said. “They’ve got money. They leave the jurisdiction, I’m going to have trouble getting them back.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have let them know you were interested.”
“Maybe. But I got no other way to go about this than to keep prying and asking and pushing and poking and looking around. And maybe the pressure will make one of them stupid.”
Healy nodded. “They aren’t charged with a crime,” he said. “They can go where they want to.”
“But they could be charged with statutory rape anytime,”
Jesse said.
“So you want me to help you keep track of them and if they try to depart we arrest them and charge them with the rape of a minor child.”
“Yes.”
“And tell them they have the right to an attorney.”
“Better than losing them,” Jesse said. “I don’t have the resources.”
“We can help you at the airport,” Healy said. “And the train stations.”
“And I need some clout with the Coast Guard. They’re stretched a little thin these days.”
“I can probably do something there. If I can’t, I can prob-1 8 2
S E A C H A N G E
ably get you one of ours. What do you want, a patrol boat at the harbor mouth?”
“Plainly marked,” Jesse said.
“Soon?”
“N
ow,” Jesse said.
Healy sipped some whiskey.
“Soon,” he said.
They sat quietly.
“You got a theory?” Healy said after a time.
“Some kind of sex ring with these two clucks at the center,” Jesse said. “They bring some girls and recruit others, mostly very young. Florence would have been a bring-along.”
“And you figure something grew out of that scene that caused the death of Horvath?”
“Yes.”
“You figure Darnell did it?”
“Yes.”
“So where’s Ralston fit?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nowhere. Maybe he’s just a pervert and all we get him on is the stat rape charge.”
“Could have been Ralston,” Healy said.
“Could have. They were tight, we know that. Cruz in Fort Lauderdale found that out. Moorings at the outer ring. Side by side.”
“They were doing the same thing there,” Healy said.
“I’d guess,” Jesse said.
“You got anywhere to go now?”
“Nothing beyond the rape charge. Hell, I don’t even know 1 8 3
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
if that will stick on Ralston. We got Darnell cold with it on tape. But the girl may not be a good witness against Ralston, and we got no tape.”
“Keep pushing,” Healy said. “These aren’t stand-up guys, I’d guess.”
“You’d be right,” Jesse said.
“And they’ve made a lot of messes in various places they’ve been. So one of them will scare and fuck up and you’ll catch him and it’ll either be him or he’ll give you the other one . . .”
“Or one of the messes they left behind will give them up.”
Healy nodded. They were quiet again. It was a late summer day. Still light, but the light slanting now from the west, and a darker tone. Healy sipped his whiskey. It would be nice, Jesse thought, to be able to sit at the edge of evening and sip a whiskey and talk. Maybe someday. Maybe not.
“You’re living with your ex-wife,” Healy said.
“We’re giving it another try.”
“Working?”
“So far,” Jesse said.
“Good,” Healy said, and sipped.
“You’re married,” Jesse said.
“Long time,” Healy said. “Some of it has been some pretty bad thrashing around, but we hung in there and it turned out good.”
Jesse nodded.
Sea Change js-5 Page 12