“And do we have any hard evidence to support our theory?” Molly said.
“You mean like clues?” Jesse said.
Molly nodded.
“No,” Jesse said.
“So what do we do now.”
“We go back into everybody’s history,” Jesse said.
“Everybody?” Suit said.
“Everybody on the chalkboard,” Jesse said.
“And of course we may find out that Lutz is telling the truth.”
“However ineptly,” Jesse said.
“And that Lorrie and Alan are simply adulterers. People cheat on their spouses without killing them, you know.”
Jesse smiled at her. “From experience, Moll?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, when you’re ready…” Jesse said.
“You’re on the list, Jesse.”
“How about me,” Suit said. “Am I on the list.”
“Not till you’re old enough,” Molly said.
“For crissake, Moll, I’m almost a detective.”
“So we have a theory, let’s see if we can find something that proves it or disproves it,” Jesse said.
“Wow,” Molly said. “Like the scientific method.”
“Sort of,” Jesse said.
“What’s the scientific method?” Suit said.
“And you wonder why you’re not on the list,” Molly said.
She finished her cruller.
“I don’t know why I bother to eat these,” she said. “I might as well apply them directly to my hips.”
46
Sunny sat at the bar with Jesse in the Gray Gull. She put the pictures of Jenn and Timothy Patrick Lloyd on the bar.
“You recognize Jenn,” Sunny said. “The guy she’s with is the stalker.”
Jesse drank some scotch.
“Who she denies knowing,” he said.
“And who denies knowing her,” Sunny said.
Sunny looked at Jesse’s face as he stared down at the pictures. His face showed nothing. The couple in the pictures was embracing.
“They are not strangers,” Jesse said.
“No.”
“You have a plan?” Jesse said.
“My plan was to see what you thought I should do.”
Jesse nodded. She wondered how it must feel for him, looking at the pictures of Jenn with another man. It wasn’t like a surprise, but it had to be painful, Sunny thought. She sipped her martini and looked at him over the rim. He was still looking at the pictures. His face was empty.
“I guess we need to confront her with these pictures,” Jesse said.
“I can do that,” Sunny said.
“No,” Jesse said. “I need to do it.”
“Why?”
“It’ll be easier for her,” he said.
“For you to catch her in deceit instead of me?”
Jesse nodded.
“She’ll be less mortified,” he said.
Sunny didn’t say anything.
“Imagine if it were Richie,” Jesse said. “Wouldn’t you want to do it?”
“Proving that I’m crazy,” Sunny said, “doesn’t prove that you’re not.”
“I know.”
“She…” Sunny started and stopped.
“I know,” Jesse said.
They both drank.
“Is there anything she could do that would make you give her up?” Sunny said.
“I don’t know,” Jesse said. “For a while there, when we were in L.A. together…”
“I remember,” Sunny said. “And now?”
Jesse stared into his drink.
“I love you, Sunny,” he said. “Hell, I probably love Molly Crane.”
“Whom you’ve never touched,” Sunny said.
“Of course not.”
“But Jenn is Jenn,” Sunny said.
“Yes.”
“God save me,” Sunny said. “I understand this.”
“I know you do,” Jesse said.
He finished his drink and motioned for a refill.
“So what do you want me to do with her?” Sunny said.
“Stay with her,” Jesse said.
Sunny nodded. She finished her drink and nodded to the bartender.
“When will you have time to talk with her?” Sunny said.
Jesse smiled slightly and shook his head.
“I can make time,” he said. “It’s when will I have the strength.”
47
From his window, looking down over the driveway of the fire station, Jesse watched the arrival. The governor of the Commonwealth, his man Richard Kennfield, and three suits whose function Jesse did not know got out of a trooper-driven limo and moved through the press of reporters toward Jesse’s office. A big black Chevy Suburban parked behind the limo. No one got out.
The governor stopped to talk with a gaggle of television reporters. Jesse couldn’t hear what he said. Probably something forceful and positive. Then he and his cluster moved into the station and came to Jesse’s office. The governor stuck out his hand.
“Chief Stone?” he said. “I’m Cabot Forbes.”
Jesse shook his hand. The governor looked around.
Kennfield said, “The governor would like his staff with him. Is there a bigger room?”
“Sure,” Jesse said.
They went down to the conference room. Jesse moved an empty pizza box off the table and gestured for the group to sit down. He sat at one end of the table. The governor stood at the other. He was tall with close-cut gray hair and a thin face.
“We’re here to help,” the governor said. “Not to criticize.”
Jesse nodded.
“But this case has dragged on long enough to become an embarrassment to the Commonwealth, and the people of the Commonwealth need to know that there’s an end in sight.”
Jesse nodded. The governor paused, and when Jesse didn’t say anything, he looked a little annoyed.
“This is made more embarrassing because I count both Walton and Lorrie as personal friends,” the governor said.
Jesse nodded.
“Is there progress?” the governor said.
“Yes.”
“Do you have a suspect?”
“Many,” Jesse said.
“Is an arrest imminent?”
“No.”
“What do you need to bring this case to a close?”
“Clues,” Jesse said.
“Are you being deliberately uncooperative, Chief Stone?”
“No, sir. I’m listening attentively.”
“I am especially concerned that Mrs. Weeks be treated with every consideration,” the governor said. “This has been a nightmare for her and she deserves closure.”
Jesse nodded.
“For God’s sake, Stone, I was at their wedding.”
“Really,” Jesse said. “When did they get married?”
The governor looked at Kennfield.
“Nineteen ninety,” Kennfield said.
“Where?”
“Baltimore, wasn’t it,” the governor said to Kennfield.
Kennfield nodded.
“At the Harbor Court,” he said.
“How’d they meet?” Jesse said.
Again, the governor looked at Kennfield.
“Oddly enough, through Walton’s bodyguard,” Kennfield said. “He introduced them.”
“Lutz?” Jesse said.
“Yes,” Kennfield said, “Conrad Lutz.”
“How did he know Lorrie,” Jesse said.
Both the governor and Kennfield shook their heads.
“Let me remind you,” the governor said, “that I am the chief executive of this state. I’m not going to be sidetracked. I came here in good faith to offer the complete resources of the Commonwealth to expedite this investigation.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jesse said.
“Stone,” Forbes said, “can you cut out the ‘Yes sir no sir thank you sir’ crap for one minute. Are you getting anywhere on this goddamned case o
r not.”
“I’m doing what I can, Governor,” Jesse said. “And I’m pretty good at it. As soon as there’s an arrest, I’ll be in touch.”
The governor reddened slightly and looked at Kennfield again.
Then he said, “We’ll hold you to that,” and wheeled and walked out of the room. The staff hustled to pick up their notebooks and briefcases and followed him out.
48
Lutz checked out,” Suit said when he came into Jesse’s office.
“When?”
“Day after you last talked with him,” Suit said. “I tried his New York address. He doesn’t answer the phone. I talked to the building manager, and he talked to the doorman, and they haven’t seen Lutz.”
“Well, something started moving,” Jesse said.
“Except we don’t know where, or why,” Suit said.
“Yet,” Jesse said. “Any movement is good.”
“I guess,” Suit said. “We gonna find him?”
“Yes.”
“We going down to New York again?”
“Maybe,” Jesse said.
Jesse looked at the ceiling, as if there were something up there. Suit waited. Jesse didn’t speak.
“You see the guv on TV this morning?” Suit said.
“No.”
“He says he’s taking a more active part in the investigation,” Suit said. “Says he’s bringing the full resources of his office to bear. Probably solve it by this evening.”
“Maybe not,” Jesse said. “See what you can find out about Lorrie Weeks, before she became Lorrie Weeks. What was her name? Where was she from? How did she know Lutz? Anything you can come up with. Probably be useful if you got a blowup of her driver’s license photo from New York DMV.”
“If I track her down,” Suit said, “will it go in my personnel file?”
“You’ll be a lock for detective,” Jesse said.
“If we ever have detectives,” Suit said.
“Absolutely,” Jesse said. “You’ll be one of them.”
“What I like,” Suit said, “is the guv comes up here to let the press look at him and blows a lot of smoke about how he wants the case solved, and the only thing he did helpful he doesn’t even know it.”
“He was annoyed that I asked about it,” Jesse said.
“Just another empty shirt and tie,” Suit said. “Why the hell are they all like that.”
Jesse shrugged and shook his head.
“It’s the kind of guy the job attracts.”
“No good guys?”
“Few,” Jesse said. “Would you want to be governor?”
“No.”
“President?”
“Christ, no,” Suit said.
“Why not?”
“Too much bullshit,” Suit said.
“So who would want that kind of a job?” Jesse said.
“A bullshitter,” Suit said.
Jesse smiled at him.
“If you’re good with a hammer,” Jesse said, “you look for a nail.”
“Wow,” Suit said. “No wonder you made chief.”
49
Jenn had dressed her apartment for Jesse’s arrival. The bed was made with a dressy spread and ornamental pillows. She had lighted candles, put out crystal, filled the silver ice bucket.
She hugged him when he came in.
“Oh boy,” she said. “I feel so safe with you. I mean, Sunny’s great, and Spike, but I never feel with anyone the way I feel with you.”
“That’s probably true for me, too,” Jesse said.
“With me?” Jenn said. “Safe?”
“Something,” Jesse said.
They stood with their arms around each other for a moment, then stepped apart.
“What’s in the envelope?” Jenn said.
“I’ll show you in a while,” Jesse said.
Jenn brought him a drink and one for herself and sat on one corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her. Jesse sat at the other end. Jenn raised her glass to him.
“Well,” she said. “Here we are.”
“Yes.”
“No matter what happens,” Jenn said, “somehow we keep blundering along, connected to each other.”
“I know,” Jesse said.
“What is wrong with us, Jesse?”
“Different things, maybe.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe what’s wrong with me isn’t what’s wrong with you.”
“And yet,” Jenn said, “here we are.”
Jesse nodded. He picked up the brown envelope from the coffee table and took out two eight-by-ten photographs. Enlargements of the pictures Sunny had found. He put them down on the table side by side in front of Jenn. Jenn leaned a little forward to look at the pictures.
The moment she saw the photograph, Jenn said, “Oh!”
Jesse waited.
“What are these pictures?” Jenn said.
“You and a guy,” Jesse said.
“Where’d you get them?”
Jesse shrugged.
“I don’t know this man,” Jenn said.
“The guy with his arm around you?” Jesse said. “This guy? With your head on his chest? Him?”
“Oh, Jesse, don’t be jealous,” Jenn said. “You know how I am.”
“If I knew how you were for sure,” Jesse said, “maybe my life would be simpler.”
“I don’t even know that man, we were just at some beach party somewhere. Just kidding around.”
“His name is Timothy Patrick Lloyd.”
“Could be,” Jenn said.
“You know him?”
“Not really,” Jenn said.
“His e-mail address is in your computer,” Jesse said.
“My computer?”
“Tpat at cybercop-dot-com,” Jesse said.
“Goddamn you, you searched my apartment.”
Jesse shook his head.
“I didn’t give you a key so you’d come snooping around,” Jenn said.
Jesse didn’t speak.
“You bastard,” Jenn said.
Jesse said nothing.
“I had a nice dinner ready,” she said.
She began to cry. Jesse took in some air and sat. Jenn sobbed. Jesse waited.
After a time, Jenn said to Jesse, “Give me a napkin or something.”
Jesse handed her a cocktail napkin from the pretty arrangement on the coffee table. Jenn patted at her eyes with the napkin.
“It was going to be a nice evening,” Jenn said.
Jesse nodded.
“I don’t have many of those anymore,” Jenn said.
Jesse nodded at the pictures on the coffee table.
“That’s your stalker, Jenn.”
“I don’t—”
Jesse put up his hand as if stopping traffic.
“We both know it,” he said. “Did he rape you?”
Jenn teared up again, and put her face in her hands and shook her head.
“No, he didn’t rape you?” Jesse said.
Jenn slid down the couch and pressed against Jesse with her face against his chest. He put an arm around her. She cried quietly.
“Did he rape you?” Jesse said.
She didn’t answer.
After a time, Jesse said, “There’s nothing so bad I can’t hear it, Jenn.”
His voice was hoarse.
“We had sex, when I didn’t want to,” Jenn said.
Her voice was muffled against his chest.
“If that were rape,” Jesse said, “most of the women in America would have a case.”
Jesse could feel her head nod slightly against his chest.
“Did he rape you?” Jesse said.
“You’ll never…”
“There’s no never, Jenn. I don’t know what’s wrong with us. I don’t know what we’re doing, and I have no goddamned clue where we are going. But whatever and wherever, there’s no never between us.”
She raised her face a little from his chest. Her eyes were red,
and her eye makeup was streaking.
“Is there an always?” she said.
Jesse looked down at her. The question hung in the silent room like blue smoke.
“Yes,” Jesse said. “I don’t know what kind of always, or what kind of life it implies, but yes. There will always be an always between us.”
The blue smoke that was only a metaphor seemed to dissolve. Jenn put her head back against his chest. She stopped crying. They were quiet.
Then she said softly, “No. He didn’t rape me.”
Jesse patted her shoulder.
“I told him I’d been an actress. He was impressed,” Jenn said. “He told me he’d love to use me in some of his marketing and promotion venues. Public appearances, modeling, it would have been a wonderful career boost.”
Jesse continued to pat her shoulder. Jenn’s voice was tranquil, as if she were talking of a happy childhood.
“So we had a little fling,” she said.
Jesse nodded.
“But nothing worked out much. He didn’t ever seem to have the right spot for me in what he was doing…and he wasn’t that much fun.”
They were quiet while Jenn remembered how much fun Tim Lloyd hadn’t been.
“There’s a lot of men like him,” she said. “A surprising number of them. They’re eager for sex, but not very good at it. They just want to sort of…” She paused, aware of Jesse.
“Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am,” Jesse said.
“They’re mostly interested in their own experience,” Jenn said. “And they’re just not very adroit.”
“So sex with Tim Lloyd wasn’t worth it for its own sake,” Jesse said.
“God,” Jenn said. “That sounds ugly.”
“It is what it is,” Jesse said.
“It wasn’t working out,” Jenn said. “The last time we were together, I told him that it wasn’t.”
“And?”
“He wanted to know why, so I told him.”
“Including the part about not being adroit?”
“Yes.”
“Ouch,” Jesse said.
“He asked,” Jenn said.
“And you were sick of him.”
“Yes,” Jenn said. “He said he wasn’t going to take that answer. He said it was my fault because I never told him. He said he wanted to have sex again and I should show him what I wanted.”
Jesse felt the muscles tighten in his back and shoulders. Jenn felt them, too.
“Are you all right?” she said.
The Jesse Stone Novels 6-9 Page 13
