“How did that come about,” Jesse said.
“You mean how did I get the job?”
“Yes.”
“Sheer happenstance. I was on Shanley Avenue, hanging with a group of my buds. All of us bad girls. Gang girls. We were passing in front of Miss Lillian’s house, whoopin’ and laughin’ the way we did, making wise-ass jokes about the whores and all when Miss Lillian opened the door and stepped outside. Everybody knew who she was. She was a very big deal in Newark. And she had this aura about her. She was definitely tough. Terrifying, actually. So now she’s standing there, staring at us. Or, rather, she’s looking directly at me.
“‘You,’ she said to me. ‘What’s your name?’
“‘My name,’ I say.
“‘That’s right,’ she says.
“‘Annie Carmine,’ I tell her. See, Annie Carmine was my real name.
“‘Annie Carmine,’ Ms. Lillian says.
“‘Yes.’
“‘Come over here, Annie Carmine,’ she says.
“I look back at my buds, and all of them are looking at us with their mouths open. So I climbed the steps to the porch where Miss Lillian was standing. She looked me over. Up and down. Front and back. Sideways, too.
“‘You’re Clarice Edgerson now,’ she said.
“I just stared at her. I didn’t know what to say.
“‘You’re hired, Clarice Edgerson,’ she said to me.
“I was with her from that moment till the day she died. She taught me everything I know and how to do it as good as it could possibly be done. I believe she was the only person who ever really loved me for who I am. And just possibly the only person I ever loved back. Is that enough story for you, Jesse Stone?”
“Thomas Walker,” Jesse said.
She looked at Augustus.
“Thomas Walker in the day,” she said. “He was the house bouncer. All attitude and muscle. Handsome, though. Tough enough, too. And vain as a peacock. Oh, my, was he vain. He was like a fox in the henhouse. He most surely got himself around.
“Miss Lillian, she spiffed him up real good and taught him some manners. But you know what they say. They say you can take the boy out of the hood but you can’t take the hood out of the boy. This particular boy, this Thomas Walker, he kept his ears open pretty good and he did manage to hear everything that was being said. ’Cept, as it turns out, he didn’t understand a word of it.”
She finished her drink.
“Lord,” she said as she stood. “I sure have been running my mouth to you, Jesse Stone. Must mean I like you.”
“There’s a but in there somewhere,” Jesse said.
“The but is that you’re a danger to me,” she said. “And to Thomas. You already know too much about us. On top of which, I just babbled on like some kind of fool in front of you. I don’t know what gets into me.”
“You never answered my question.”
“You’ll have to see Thomas about that,” she said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Gus will show you to the door.”
Augustus stood.
“Good day to you, Jesse Stone,” Clarice said.
Jesse nodded to her and then followed Augustus outside.
“I never heard her tell anybody about Miss Lillian before,” Augustus said. “Those were different times. Things were more clear back then. Less complicated. We knew what we wanted and we worked our asses off to get it. Nobody had any subtext. There were no hidden agendas. Things are all changed now.”
“How so?”
“Everybody be firin’ at each other with assault weapons now,” Augustus said.
Jesse thumbed through his messages and saw that Philip Connell had phoned. He returned the call.
“Mr. Connell would like to schedule an appointment with you,” the young man who answered said. “He was wondering if he might meet with you tomorrow morning at Golden Horizons.”
“Okay.”
“May I confirm that you’ll meet with him?”
“You may. But not at Golden Horizons.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not at Golden Horizons.”
“But that’s where Mr. Connell will be.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“Chief Stone,” the young man said.
“Yes.”
“What may I say to Mr. Connell?”
“Why don’t you say that I won’t meet with him at Golden Horizons.”
“He might not like that.”
“I don’t really care what he might or might not like.”
The young man was silent.
“Why don’t you say I’d be willing to meet him at Paradise Harbor.”
“Paradise Harbor?”
“I’ll meet Mr. Connell in front of Rocco’s Boardwalk Pizza at eleven-thirty.”
The young man didn’t say anything.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jesse said, and hung up.
He leaned back in his chair. Then he picked up the phone and called Marty Reagan.
“What’s up,” Reagan said.
“A call from Philip Connell. He wants a meeting.”
“You’ll take it, I presume.”
“Of course.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning at eleven-thirty.”
“I’ll tell Aaron.”
“Let me know if he has anything smart to say.”
“Who, Aaron?”
“Come to think of it,” Jesse said. “This could turn out to be half interesting.”
“Be sure to let me know if it is,” Reagan said.
Jesse was already halfway through his first slice of pizza when he spotted a man in a hurry headed in his direction.
It was still early in the season, and a number of the Paradise Harbor food stands had yet to open. Rocco’s was the exception, however, and workmen had already hosed off a winter’s worth of dirt and grime from the outdoor tables.
Welcoming sunshine peeked through the variable cloud cover, providing warmth to the small crowd that had gathered to sample what was generally regarded as the best pizza in Paradise.
Jesse watched the man approach. He was fit and handsome, wearing a well-tailored pin-striped black suit, a pink dress shirt, and a floral tie. He carried a brown-and-tan Louis Vuitton attaché case. He stopped at the table where Jesse was sitting, looked around for a moment, then sat on the bench across from him.
“Pepperoni,” Jesse said, his mouth filled with pizza. “Awesome.”
He swallowed.
“I’ve already had my lunch,” Connell said.
“At eleven-thirty in the morning?”
“Brunch, then.”
“At Golden Horizons?”
“Look, I’m not here to discuss Golden Horizons,” Connell said. “As you correctly surmised, I’m Philip Connell. My friends call me Flip.”
“Mr. Connell,” Jesse said. “I’m Chief Stone.”
“Thank you for making the time to see me,” Connell said.
“What can I do for you,” Jesse said, finishing the rest of his slice.
Connell exhibited the barest measure of disgust as he watched Jesse chew.
“I thought we might have a little chat,” he said at last. “Get to know each other a bit.”
“How swell,” Jesse said. “You start.”
“I founded Amherst Properties twenty years ago. On my own. With money I borrowed from my family.”
“How nice.”
“I built it myself and shepherded it to its current level of success. Which is considerable.”
“Was there anyone else working with you?”
“My team was working with me.”
“So you didn’t exactly build it yourself.”
Connell looked at Jesse.
“Is this going to be a difficult conversation,” he said.
“I just wanted clarification. Many serve, but in a number of instances, only one takes credit.”
“All right,” Connell said, sighing. “I was somehow hoping we might be able to
come to an understanding of sorts.”
“What kind of an understanding?”
“I’m led to believe that you bear some kind of malice toward Golden Horizons.”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Connell looked at Jesse for a moment, then soldiered on.
“Malice as a result of what you perceive to be the mistreatment of one of its residents.”
“More than one,” Jesse said.
“Okay,” Connell said. “More than one.”
Jesse shrugged.
“I came to believe it was this alleged malice that triggered the inspections that now jeopardize our business.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Jesse said.
“Be that as it may, and regardless of whether or not you hold any kind of grudge, I’d like to make you a proposal.”
“What kind of proposal?”
“Golden Horizons was founded on the principles of caring and compassion. Sure, mistakes have been made along the way. Amherst Properties manages a number of such facilities, and we aren’t always able to monitor them as closely as we might like.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“We’re not venal people, Chief Stone.”
He stared at Jesse, who returned his stare.
“We’d like you to reconsider your opinion of us,” Connell said. “We’d like to accomplish that by offering you a position with us.”
“A position?”
“Yes.”
“I already have a position,” Jesse said.
“I’m aware of that. The position we have in mind for you is a nonexclusive one. We’d like you to serve in an advisory capacity.”
“An advisory capacity.”
“That’s right. While you still maintain your current position, we’d like you to also serve as a special adviser to Amherst Properties. To me, actually. Unofficially, of course. We’d be prepared to offer you two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for your service.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“And after the first year, that particular honorarium would be subject to upward readjustment.”
“You mean after a year, you’d give me a raise?”
“Correct.”
Jesse remained silent.
“Might this position be of interest to you, Chief Stone?”
“You mean would I be willing to accept your bribe?”
“It’s hardly a bribe,” Connell said, his features hardening.
“If you say so.”
“I won’t make this offer again.”
“Then I won’t have to turn it down again,” Jesse said.
“You’re making a mistake if you turn it down.”
“It wouldn’t be my first.”
“Would three hundred thousand make it more palatable for you?”
Jesse stood.
“I’m not for sale, Mr. Connell. Flip. Golden Horizons has failed to pass at least three key inspections. It has incurred an inordinate number of violations. The clock is ticking on those violations. If they’re not rectified within the specified time frame, Golden Horizons will suffer the consequences. It will be my job to enforce those consequences, whatever they might be.”
Connell didn’t say anything.
“Thanks for thinking of me, though, Flip. It will be my pleasure to inform my associates of the high regard in which you hold me and to share with them your generous offer of employment.”
“I’ll deny every word of it,” Connell said.
“I have no doubt,” Jesse said.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a digital recorder and a small directional microphone.
“But no one will believe you, Flip,” Jesse said. “It’s all right here.”
He smiled at Philip Connell.
“It’s not too late to try the pizza,” he said.
Then he sauntered away.
Jesse dropped the recorder off at Marty Reagan’s office, then headed for the police station. He parked in his allocated spot in back and was just getting out of his cruiser when a black Mercedes sedan pulled up alongside him.
The back door opened and a giant of a man dressed in a green dashiki got out. In his hand was a Smith & Wesson semiautomatic pistol. It was pointed at Jesse’s heart.
“Against the car,” he said, motioning with the pistol. “You know the drill.”
Jesse leaned against the Mercedes, his hands on top of the car, his legs spread wide. The man frisked him and swiftly disarmed him.
“Get in,” the man said.
Jesse stepped away from the vehicle and looked at him.
“What are you, deaf,” the man said.
He stepped up to Jesse and pushed him.
“In,” he said.
Jesse briefly looked around and spotted no one. He got into the car. The man followed, still holding the Smith & Wesson. He closed the door behind him, and the Mercedes sped off.
“The fuck you think you doin’,” Thomas Walker said.
He was in the front passenger seat, facing Jesse. Jesse didn’t say anything.
“The fuck you feeding Clarice all that bullshit for? Get her all upset. I didn’t do my best to help you? You think I misrepresented the truth to you? You think it was me killed that girl?”
Jesse stared at him.
“You messin’ in places you got no business messin’ in, Jesse Stone. You still alive only ’cause you got Gino Fish in your corner. What part of ‘This shit ain’t none of your business’ don’t you understand?”
“What were you doing with Janet Becquer,” Jesse said.
“Private.”
“Not good enough.”
“Say what?”
“That’s not a good enough answer. You were seen all over town with a girl who was later found murdered. You lied about your involvement with her.”
“Lied?”
“You fed me your bullshit about some job offer and her not taking it. You failed to mention that you had been all over town with her.”
“You trying to make me for her murder?”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“I didn’t do it. Okay? I didn’t kill that girl.”
Jesse remained silent.
“I got a warning for you, Jesse Stone. You keep dogging me like you be doin’, I’m gonna kill you. You mess with Clarice again, I’m gonna kill you. If you don’t walk the fuck away from this, I’m gonna kill you. Do you understand?”
“Maybe if you used smaller words.”
Walker glared at him.
“Don’t fuck with me, Stone,” he said.
“You don’t scare me, Thomas,” Jesse said. “Regardless of whatever threat you believe you present, I’m still going to do what I have to do. If that doesn’t suit you, then you best kill me right now.”
“Pull over,” Walker said to the driver.
The car swerved and lurched to a stop at the curb.
“Get the fuck out,” Walker said.
“Give me back my gun,” Jesse said.
“Herschel,” Walker said to the man holding Jesse’s Colt. “Throw the gun out the window.”
Herschel did as he was instructed.
Jesse stared at Walker.
“Out,” Walker said.
Jesse stepped out of the car. Walker lowered his window.
“Consider yourself warned, motherfucker,” he said.
Then the Mercedes sped off, leaving Jesse standing in the road.
By the time Molly picked him up, a thin mist had begun to fall, and even though Jesse had taken shelter under a pin oak, he was still soaked and cranky.
“You smell like a wet dog,” Molly said.
“Just please drive, okay,” he said.
“No thank-you for coming out in the rain?”
“Thank you for coming out in the rain.”
“Serves you right.”
“What does?”
“The warning.”
“This is going to turn into one of those conversati
ons, isn’t it?”
“All I’m saying is that it serves you right.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“You play with fire, you get burned.”
“I’m not burned. I’m drenched.”
“Same thing.”
“What is it you’re trying to say, Molly?”
“That you should take everyone’s advice.”
“Which is?”
“Leave it alone, Jesse.”
“I’m not going to leave it alone.”
“Then you’re asking for it.”
“Thomas Walker killed Janet Becquer.”
“Can you prove it?”
“Not yet.”
“You never will.”
Jesse didn’t say anything. Molly drove silently for a while.
“If it means anything,” she said, “I believe that you’re right. He more than likely did it. But it’s a crime that will never get solved. It’s heading straight for the cold-case file.”
“I’ll prove it even if it kills me.”
“My point exactly.”
“It’s not going to kill me.”
“Do you know how many of them there are?”
“How many of whom?”
“Thomas Walker’s minions.”
“Several.”
“You’re damned right several. More than several. You wouldn’t even see it coming.”
Jesse shrugged.
“Go ahead. Shrug. One of these wasted homies is gonna make his bones on you, Jesse Stone. He’s gonna come bopping out of the woodwork and either stab you or shoot you or do something equally as attractive to you, and despite your hyperactive sense of responsibility, you’ll fall over just as dead as all the others whose demise was sanctioned by Thomas Walker.”
“Meaning?”
“Give it up, Jesse. If for no other reason than life here in Paradise without you would be even worse than it is with you.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean it. Don’t you go dying for no reason. You’re not dealing with rational people here. They’re stealthy and lethal, and as loony as a swarm of bedbugs.”
“What would you have me do?”
“What everyone’s been telling you to do. Drop it.”
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
“Don’t trivialize this, Jesse.”
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