Robert B Parker: The Jesse Stone Novels 1-5

by Robert B. Parker

  “How’s the girl doing?”

  Jesse shrugged.

  “She and I went out and adopted a dog for her.”

  “You and she?”

  “It belonged to one of the serial victims. I was trying to find it a home.”

  “Did that make her happy.”

  “I don’t think it made her happy. It did give her something to care about.”

  “What would make her happy?”

  “I don’t know,” Jesse said. “Maybe a couple years with a good shrink.”

  “Is that going to happen?”

  “I gave her a name,” Jesse said.

  “My goodness,” Rita said. “Cop for all seasons.”

  “I know a shrink,” Jesse said.

  “You think she’ll see the shrink?”

  “Most people don’t,” Jesse said.

  Rita nodded.

  “I did,” she said, “after my last divorce.”

  “You’ve had more than one?”

  Rita smiled and poured herself more champagne.

  “I’ve had three,” she said. “And after each one, I was inclined to fall deeply in love with the next guy I dated.”

  “You still do that?”

  “No,” Rita said. “But it doesn’t mean I won’t.”

  “After my divorce,” Jesse said, “I wanted to fall in love with someone else and couldn’t.”

  “You’ve only been divorced once?”

  “Yes.”

  “The more it happens, I think,” Rita said, “the more desperate you get, and the more likely you are to grab at the first loser that strolls by, which makes it more likely that this marriage will fail too.”

  “And you’ve learned not to do that.”

  “Until now,” Rita said.

  Jesse drank. The cranberry and soda seemed particularly insufficient for this moment. They were silent.

  Finally, Jesse said, “Me?”

  “It feels like it,” Rita said.

  “Another loser?”

  “No,” Rita said. “You are not a loser.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not so sure.”

  “Because?”

  “Because Jenn,” Jesse said.

  Rita put her glass down and stood, and began to unbutton her blouse. When it was unbuttoned she slid out of it. She stepped out of her shoes and unzipped her pants, and slid them down over her legs and stepped out of them. Her lingerie was ivory. So it won’t show through, Jesse thought. She unsnapped her bra, slid out of her underpants, and stood naked in front of him. Jesse smiled.

  “A real redhead,” he said.

  “Or a very thorough colorist,” Rita said.

  She came to the couch and sat beside Jesse and tucked her feet under her.

  “So?” Rita said. “Tell me about Jenn.”

  “It’s a little hard to concentrate,” Jesse said.

  “My point exactly,” Rita said.

  She shifted somehow and was in his lap, and then they were both naked, and then, after a while they lay together on the couch with their arms around each other, waiting for their breathing to slow.

  Finally, with her face next to his, Rita said, “So, tell me about Jenn.”

  “You are as good-looking a woman as I have ever met,” Jesse said carefully. “And I’ve never had sex that I liked better.”

  “Not even Jenn,” Rita said.

  “She’s not better-looking than you are,” Jesse said, “and she doesn’t make love any better.”

  “So, why her, not me?”

  Jesse eased himself up a little so that his head rested on the arm of the couch. Rita adjusted so that she lay inside his right arm.

  “Why her?” Rita said again.

  Jesse laughed briefly and without amusement.

  “God,” he said. “If I knew that, I’d know everything.”

  “You’re sort of an addictive personality,” Rita said.

  “Booze?” Jesse said.

  “And Jenn.”

  Jesse nodded slowly.

  “And Jenn,” he said.

  “You’ve stopped drinking,” Rita said.

  Jesse was silent, listening to his breathing, and to Rita’s.

  “I know,” Jesse said.

  They lay still, passionless, their naked bodies touching pleasantly. Rita seemed perfectly comfortable without her clothes on.

  “Maybe you can break the addiction to Jenn,” Rita said.

  “I love her,” Jesse said.

  “Jesus Christ,” Rita said. “You invoke that phrase as if you’d discovered the double helix. Love is an emotion, like any other. You can get over it, like you do anger or fear, or hatred.”

  “I love her,” Jesse said. “If I can be with her, I will be.”

  “So,” Rita said, “what’s the plan? You fuck me until you can be with her?”

  “Hell, Rita, I don’t have a plan,” Jesse said. “I’m just hanging on.”

  “That shrink you know,” Rita said. “What does he say about Jenn?”

  “He says that I do my job, that I have women I care about, who care about me, that my life moves right along, so why do I need Jenn?”

  “And your answer?”

  “You won’t like it,” Jesse said.

  Rita grimaced.

  “‘Because I love her’?” Rita said.

  Jesse nodded.

  “And you don’t love me,” Rita said.

  “Actually I do,” Jesse said. “It’s just that I love Jenn more.”

  Rita was quiet for a time.

  “If you and Jenn ever get together, why couldn’t we love each other too?” Rita said. “Part-time, so to speak.”

  “Rita, I don’t know what’s going to happen after I get off this couch, let alone who I’ll be in a month or a year.”

  “But it might be possible,” Rita said.

  Jesse shook his head slowly.

  “Maybe not,” he said.

  62

  The note was hand printed in big block letters with blue ink.

  TO FIND OUT ABOUT YOUR SERIAL KILLER, BE AT THE FOOD COURT AT NORTHEAST MALL AT 7 P.M. THURSDAY. ALONE!!!!!!!

  The letters looked a little wavery, as if the writer were old.

  “Probably printed it left-handed,” Jesse said.

  “To frustrate the handwriting experts,” Molly said.

  “Yep.”

  “Is handwriting analysis really that effective?” Molly said.

  Jesse smiled and looked as if he thought it wasn’t.

  “You know that mall?” Jesse said.

  “I’m a suburban mother,” Molly said. “Of course I do. Don’t you?”

  “I’m not a suburban mother,” Jesse said. “I’ll go up there this afternoon and scope it out.”

  “You haven’t ever been there?”

  “Only outside,” Jesse said. “When I met Candace there.”

  “Hard to imagine,” Molly said. “Do you think it’s them?”

  “Yep.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Show up,” Jesse said.

  “It’s Tuesday,” Molly said. “We have today and tomorrow to get ready.”

  “How crowded would it be on a Thursday evening,” Jesse said.

  “Quite,” Molly said. “It’s crowded every night, and it’s time to be buying the spring wardrobe.”

  “Sure it is.”

  “There are a bunch of exits from the mall,” Molly said. “Not counting the ones that the stores use, you know for truck deliveries and stuff.”

  “Be hard to cover them all.”

  “I’m sure the state police will help, and th
e local cops will give us some people.”

  Jesse shook his head.

  “Too many jurisdictions,” he said. “I won’t be able to control it.”

  “We can coordinate through Vargas,” Molly said.

  “These are smart people,” Jesse said.

  “But surely they don’t think we won’t try to catch them,” Molly said.

  “They probably like that,” Jesse said.

  “They like it?”

  “Raises the risk, makes it more exciting.”

  “So why not be there in force,” Molly said. “Cover every exit, have plainclothes people all over the food court.”

  “They like risk,” Jesse said. “But they don’t like certainty. They don’t want to get caught. They only want the danger of getting caught.”

  “They want to be shot at and missed,” Molly said.

  “Exactly,” Jesse said.

  “And you’re afraid that if there are too many different people involved, somebody will give it away.”

  “And we’ll lose them.”

  “You’re assuming,” Molly said, “that their purpose is to kill you.”

  “Yep.”

  “So why do it this way. They know where you live. Why not just lurk around there and shoot you when you come home?”

  “Same reason they’ve been flirting with me, buying me lunch, being my pals,” Jesse said.

  “They are, after all, crazy,” Molly said. “I tend to forget that.”

  “So not everything they do is logical to us,” Jesse said. “On the other hand crazy doesn’t mean stupid. They’ve chosen a public place with many exits. The parking lot leads to many roadways that lead in many directions. It is a good place to escape from. It is an easy place not to be noticed. And it is a hard place for us to start shooting.”

  “So we put our people there, early, around the food court,” Molly said. “Suit and I can be there as a married couple shopping for cruise wear.”

  “You’re ten years older than Suit,” Jesse said.

  “Yes. But I do not look it.”

  “True,” Jesse said. “But it can’t be Suit. They know him.”

  “Well, me and Anthony then,” Molly said. “We keep Suit out of sight.”

  “I don’t want it to be you, Moll,” Jesse said.

  “Why not?”

  “You got kids and a husband,” Jesse said.

  “And Anthony has kids and a wife,” Molly said.

  “I was afraid you’d remember that,” Jesse said.

  “It’s because I’m a woman,” Molly said.

  Jesse was silent.

  “It is, isn’t it,” Molly said.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it’s lovely and chivalrous of you,” Molly said. “And I know you do it because you care about me. But it still demeans me.”

  “I know,” Jesse said.

  “God, you’re irritating. I can’t even fight with you.”

  “You and Anthony can be snacking in the food court,” Jesse said. “Wear your vest.”

  “You too,” Molly said.

  Jesse nodded.

  “Spring fashions,” he said.

  63

  They set up early. Molly and Anthony deAngelo, in jeans and winter coats, arrived at 4:30 and began to shop the mall. Molly made several purchases, and Anthony carried her bags and looked bored. They saw no sign of Tony or Brianna Lincoln. Only Jesse and Suitcase Simpson had actually seen the Lincolns. The rest had detailed descriptions. But it was not the same. Outside the mall, Simpson dispersed the other cops, trying to keep all the exits in view. Only Steve Friedman and Buddy Hall were on duty in Paradise.

  At 6:27, Molly and Anthony came to the food court. They put their bags down and sat at a table. They looked from where they sat at the various food stands, appeared to reach a decision, and Anthony stood up and went to get them some pork fried rice. The food court was nearly filled. Looking at the customers, Molly realized that several of them could be the Lincolns. At 6:48 Molly decided that she couldn’t pretend to eat the rice anymore. She had no appetite, and it was clear that neither did Anthony.

  “I’ll get us some coffee,” she said.

  “Cream,” Anthony said, “two sugars.”

  At 6:57 Molly took a cell phone out of her purse and called Simpson outside the mall.

  “Hello, honey,” she said.

  “Molly?”

  “Yes. Are you and your brother doing what Nana says?”

  “Any sign of action?” Simpson said.

  Anthony deAngelo looked like a man whose wife spoke often on the phone, glancing aimlessly around the food court. Molly smiled.

  “No, honey, Daddy and I are having coffee, we’ll be home in a little while.”

  “Do you want me to help you with this?” Simpson said. “Pretend I’m your kid?”

  “Absolutely not,” Molly said. “What have you and Nana been doing?”

  “I’ll just sort of hum, then, so you’ll know the line’s open and I’m still here.”

  “That’s very good,” Molly said.

  At seven o’clock Jesse, wearing a navy pea jacket over his Kevlar vest, walked down the mall with his hands in the pockets and stood in front of the elevator, opposite the entrance to the food court.

  “It’s seven o’clock,” Molly said.

  On the phone Suit said, “Jesse there?”

  “Un-huh.”

  “Anything happening?”

  “No, honey, not yet.”

  “I kind of like the honey thing. Will you call me honey around the station, after this is over?”

  “No.”

  Behind Jesse the elevator door opened and a man and woman stood in the door. They were wearing hats and scarves that partly hid their faces.

  “Jesse,” the man said.

  As Jesse turned toward them they each raised a long-barreled pistol and shot Jesse in the chest. The pistols made only a flat pop that was lost in the hubbub of the mall. Jesse stepped a half step back.

  “It’s happening,” Molly said into the phone and dropped it and turned with her gun out. DeAngelo was on his feet as well, his handgun leveled.

  The elevator door closed and the elevator went back up, taking the man and woman with it. People in the food court area were beginning to react. The result was confusion.

  “There’s an escalator at each end,” Jesse said, pointing. “Molly, cover that one. Anthony, stay here.”

  Then he turned and ran down the mall, forcing his way through the crowd, his gun held down against his thigh. When he reached the escalator, he slowed and opened his coat so that, as he went up the moving stairs, he could speak into the microphone clipped to his vest.

  “Suit?”

  “You okay, Jesse?”

  “I am. It went down. We’ve got them somewhere on the second level now.”

  “Shall we come in.”

  “No. We’ll try to chase them to you.”

  “We’ll be here.”

  “When we saw them they were wearing black watch caps pulled down over their foreheads, and black or navy scarves wrapped up over their chins, like they were cold. She had on a fur coat. He was wearing a trench coat.”

  “We’ll be looking.”

  “Make sure everybody gets the message,” Jesse said. “And they could change, so don’t lock in on the coats and scarves.”

  “Roger, Jesse.”

  At the top of the escalator Jesse paused with the gun at his side, looking around. Most people didn’t notice the gun. The ones that did looked quickly and moved swiftly away. Jesse made sure his badge, clipped to his vest, was visible. Don’t want somebody calling 911, and end up shooting it out with the local SWAT team. He looked
down to the far end of the mall and saw Molly standing at the top of her escalator.

  On the first level, Anthony stood facing the elevator. His gun was in his hand, held down against his right thigh. The elevator came back down and the doors opened and several men and women got out. One of them was a good-looking woman wearing a paisley yellow silk scarf over her head, and an ankle-length yellow wool coat. She carried a small shopping bag, and smiled at Anthony as she headed past him toward the exit. Anthony was pretty sure she wasn’t the one. Still, better to play it safe.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” Anthony said.

  She turned and took the gun from the shopping bag and shot him in the forehead. As Anthony went down, one of the men from the elevator stepped up and took the woman’s arm. He was wearing a leather jacket and a long-billed low-crowned baseball hat.

  By the time Anthony hit the floor the man and woman were walking firmly past him and out the front door of the mall. As they reached the parking lot several people pushed past them, running toward a Paradise Police car. The people crowded around the car, all talking at once to Eddie Cox and gesturing toward the mall. The man and woman passed the crowd and got into a rented Volvo, and drove quietly away.

  64

  Jesse sat with Healy in the front seat of Healy’s unmarked car.

  “We found their other clothes in the washrooms,” Healy said.

  “Had the change of clothes in the shopping bags,” Jesse said.

  “Maybe you should have asked for help,” Healy said.

  “We had all the exits covered,” Jesse said.

  “Which means they walked right past one of your guys.”

  “Simpson and I were the only ones really knew what they looked like,” Jesse said.

  “If you’d brought us in . . .” Healy said.

  “You wouldn’t have known what they looked like either.”

  “True, but we might have had more people at the elevator.”

  “And your people couldn’t have started shooting,” Jesse said, “any more than Anthony could. There were eight or ten people coming off that elevator.”

  “And he was probably a little less cautious because it was a good-looking broad,” Healy said.

  Jesse shrugged.

  “Whether it would have gone better if you’d invited us in,” Healy said, “it couldn’t have gone worse.”