The Hangman's Sonnet
Page 29
“A little, Suit,” Jesse had said. “Just a little.”
The press was gone and were back at covering stories that mattered. True to his word, Jesse had given Ed Selko an exclusive. All the crime scene tape had been taken down from the Cain house and the nature preserve. The dragonfly ring had been returned to the museum and was on display with the remainder of the jewelry from the set. The Wickham estate had been rented for the fall to some painter Jesse had never heard of.
Jesse parked his Explorer, new tires et al., at the station, walked into his office, and tossed his keys onto his desk. The thing was, Molly was sitting behind the desk.
“Morning, Chief Crane,” he said, saluting.
“That’s Acting Chief Crane to you, Stone. I may hate you forever for this.”
“I doubt it.”
“Don’t be so sure, Jesse. I’m about as comfortable in this chair as a man wearing sandpaper underwear.”
“I’ll be back in five or six weeks or so. Relax, Molly.”
“I know. So how long you figure it’ll take you and Tamara to get down to Austin?”
“A week. We’re going to do a little sightseeing on the way. Then I’ll spend a few days with her until she settles in.”
“Are you sure about this, Jesse?”
“About rehab? No, but Dix says the place I’m going to is as good as any.”
“I don’t mean about will it work,” she said, exasperated. “I mean are you sure you should go?”
“Uh-huh.”
Molly changed subjects. “Do you think Bella Lawton will get prosecuted for Bascom’s murder?”
“She deserves it. It’s the right thing to do, but that’s up to the DA. I told her all bets were off if she lied in the statement.”
Molly shook her head. “That was brilliant the way you let Niles hear Bella’s interview. He couldn’t wait to give us a full statement implicating her after he heard that.”
“Old trick.”
“I hear you’ve got an offer on your house.”
Jesse smiled. “It’s all but sold. Closing should all be set up by the time I get back.”
There was a knock on the office door.
Jesse opened his mouth to answer, but it was Molly who said, “Come in.”
Nita Thompson came into the office looking unusually casual in jeans, a loose-fitting floral blouse, and sandals.
“Morning, Chief Crane,” she said. “Can I borrow Jesse for a few minutes?”
“You can keep him for all I care.” Both women laughed. Molly stood. “You two stay. I’ve got work to do.”
When the door closed behind Molly, Nita said, “I wanted to say so long. I won’t be here when you get back.”
“No?”
“I’m movin’ on up. I landed me a United States Senate candidate.” Nita pantomimed hooking a fish and reeling it in.
“Congratulations.”
“I also wanted to apologize for some of the things I said about you, Jesse. I’m sorry.”
“It’s forgotten.”
She laughed. “I think I’m sorriest for me. If I’d been a little kinder, I think we could have been friends.”
He winked. “Maybe.”
She stepped close to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck, Jesse Stone.”
He watched her retreat, then went out front to wait for Tamara. Suit came out and stood next to him.
“You look like you lost some weight, Suit.”
“Elena makes me eat right.”
“Good. Now maybe we won’t need a sundial anymore to time you running the bases.”
Suit ignored the dig and brought up Roger Bascom. “I always thought the guy was a jerk, but I never thought he was a killer.”
“Suit, people will do almost anything if they’re hungry or needy enough.”
“I guess.”
Tamara pulled her Jeep up in front of them. “Hey, Suit.”
“Hey, Doc. Good luck in Texas.”
Suit loaded Jesse’s duffel into the backseat and shook Jesse’s hand good-bye. Jesse climbed into the bucket beside Tamara. He had a good idea of what Paradise would be like when he got back, but given that he was headed to rehab, he was much less certain about himself.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank The Estate of Robert B. Parker, Ivan Held, Chris Pepe, and David Hale Smith.
I would also like to express my appreciation to Richard Neer, Ming Liu Parson, Ace Atkins, Tom Schreck, and Ellen W. Schare for their help in the creation of this novel. Special thanks to Peter Spiegelman, who showed me the way out of the weeds on this one.
But I reserve my most heartfelt thanks for Rosanne, Kaitlin, and Dylan. They are the ones who made the hard sacrifices so I could follow my passion. Without their love and support, none of this would have any meaning.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
© John Earle
Robert B. Parker was the author of seventy books, including the legendary Spenser detective series, the novels featuring Chief Jesse Stone, and the acclaimed Virgil Cole/Everett Hitch westerns, as well as the Sunny Randall novels. Winner of the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master Award and long considered the undisputed dean of American crime fiction, he died in January 2010.
robertbparker.net
© Adam Martin
Reed Farrel Coleman, author of the New York Times–bestselling Robert B. Parker’s Debt to Pay, has been called a “hard-boiled poet” by NPR’s Maureen Corrigan and the “noir poet laureate” in The Huffington Post. He has published twenty-five previous novels, including nine books in the critically acclaimed Moe Prager series, and most recently, What You Break, featuring Gus Murphy. A three-time winner of the Shamus Award, he has also won the Anthony, Macavity, Barry, and Audie awards. Coleman lives with his family on Long Island.
reedcoleman.com
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