“I found the gun in your desk,” Jesse said.
“You were looking in my desk?”
“Your wife and I,” Jesse said.
“She showed you?”
“Yes.”
“She knows?”
“Yes.”
“About the girls?”
“Yes.”
Shaw looked as if he wanted to say something, but nothing was there to be said.
“You dumb fuck,” Jesse said. “You didn’t clean it. There was a round missing. You didn’t even reload.”
Again Shaw started to speak and failed. Finally he said, “I need a drink.”
There was a tape recorder on Jesse’s desk. Jesse turned it on.
“Why’d you kill her, Norman?”
Shaw sat back in his chair, his shoulders slumped, his hands clasped between his thighs.
“She said she was going to tell on me,” he said.
His voice wasn’t high anymore, but it remained petulant.
“A high school dropout,” he said. “She said she didn’t like some of the things we did.”
“You were paying for those things,” Jesse said encouragingly.
“That’s right, and this little dropout whore . . . I’m a bestselling author. I had too much to lose.”
Shaw stopped.
“You shoot her?” Jesse said.
Shaw didn’t answer. “God,” he said. “I need a drink.”
“You shoot her?”
Shaw’s voice sounded hoarse. “Yes,” he said.
65
They were in Swampscott, walking on Fisherman’s Beach, near where they had first eaten lunch together. Jesse was chewing gum.
“How did Billie’s parents react?” Lilly said.
“The old man got up without saying anything and walked out of the house. The mother didn’t flinch. Told me she’d lost her daughter a long time ago.”
“God,” Lilly said. “What about the other one? The one who brought him the girls?”
“Alan Garner.”
“Yes.”
“Gino Fish will find out he’s been running a child prostitution ring out of Gino’s office,” Jesse said. “He won’t be around long enough to prosecute.”
“His boss will fire him?”
“His boss will kill him.”
“Kill him?”
Jesse nodded.
“You know that and you’ll let it happen?” Lilly said.
“I can’t prove he’s going to do it.”
“But you know it,” Lilly said.
“Sure.”
“But . . .” Lilly paused and her eyes widened. “You want it to happen. Don’t you?”
“Garner isn’t much of a guy,” Jesse said.
They were quiet. The tide was out. The beach was wide and firm and easy to walk on. A couple of terns moved ahead of them, cocking heads occasionally, then hopping on.
“That’s the part of you that doesn’t show much,” Lilly said.
Jesse smiled. “I beg your pardon,” he said.
“Not that part. It’s the cold part of you—without sentiment, without mercy. It is frightening.”
“People are more than one thing,” Jesse said.
“I know,” Lilly said. “I didn’t mean that as critically as it sounded. I know you can feel compassion. I know you found that girl’s killer, partly because you felt somehow you owed it to her.”
“I’m also employed to do that,” Jesse said.
“And maybe the scary part of you—the remorseless part, the part that looks at the world with an icy stare—maybe that part of you is why you can do what you’re employed to do.”
“Maybe,” Jesse said.
They were walking the beach at the margin where the sand was hardest. The ocean eased up toward them as they walked and almost reached them and lingered and shrank back, and eased up toward them again. Lilly stopped and stared out at the ocean. Jesse stood beside her.
“Long way out,” Jesse said.
They stood silently together looking at the horizon.
“Where are we going, you and I?” Lilly said.
“Back to your place?” Jesse said. “Where I show another hard side of myself.”
Lilly smiled. “Probably,” she said.
The easy wind off the ocean blew her silvery hair back from her young face and pressed her white cotton dress tight against her chest and thighs.
“But I meant where are we going? more like, ah, metaphorically.”
“You mean what about our future?”
“Yes.”
“Like walk into the sunset?”
“Yes.”
Jesse put his head back so that he was squinting up at the sky. He chewed his gum slowly. The tide was coming in. The reach of the ocean water had forced them back a step.
“I think I love you, Jesse.”
Jesse’s jaw moved gently as he chewed the gum. The two terns that had been shadowing them flew up suddenly and slanted out over the ocean.
“If I can be with Jenn,” Jesse said after a time, “I will be.”
Out from shore, a lobster boat chugged past them heading toward Phillips Beach.
“Even if you are together again,” Lilly said at last, “maybe we could still have our little . . . arrangement.”
Jesse took a deep breath. He liked Lilly a lot. In bed she was brilliant. With her he felt less alone than he had since Jenn left. He let the breath out slowly.
“Maybe not,” he said.
66
Jesse still used a wooden bat. The ball jumped off the aluminum ones much farther, but they didn’t give the feeling of entirety, in the hands and forearms, that a wooden bat did. Jesse was playing tonight in shorts and a sleeveless tee shirt. His gun and badge were locked, with his wallet, in the glove compartment of his car. There was a league rule against wearing spikes, so they played in colorfully ornamented sneakers. And Jesse didn’t wear batting gloves. He had worn them when he played in the minors, because everyone did, and it hadn’t occurred to him not to. But in a twilight softball league they seemed pretentious to him.
Jesse planted his feet in the holes that had already been worn there. But Jesse wasn’t uncomfortable. He had never been uncomfortable playing ball. Playing ball was like being home.
He took a pitch wide for a ball.
When you were going good, he remembered, the ball had come up there slowly, looking the size of a cantaloupe. He smiled to himself. Now it was about the size of a cantaloupe. He took a shoulder-high pitch for a strike. He glanced back once at the umpire. The umpire shrugged. Jesse grinned. He’d get a make good in one of these at bats.
He’s pitching high and low, Jesse thought. Next time he’ll be down.
The wind off the lake swirled a little dust between home and the pitcher’s mound. Jesse stepped out. The infield was well over to the left side. The outfield was around to the left and deep. In this league he was a power hitter. Jesse got back in the box.
The next pitch came in thigh high, where Jesse was looking for it, and when he swung he could feel the exact completeness of the contact up into his chest. He dropped the bat and, without looking, began to trot slowly toward first.
Suitcase Simpson, coaching at first, said to him, “Three trees back toward the restaurant.”
The opposing third baseman said, “Nice home-run trot.”
There were a half dozen people in the stands behind third base. As he came into third, Jesse looked at them. One of them was Joni Shaw. She waved at him. He grinned at her, and ran on home.
Robert B. Parker is the author of more than fifty books. He lived in Boston. Visit the author’s website at www.robertbparker.net
&nbs
p; Meet the new neighbors.
And watch your back . . .
STONE COLD
“Parker’s Jesse Stone series has produced a book as good as top-drawer Spenser . . . testament to why he was named a Grand Master at the 2002 Edgar Awards.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Parker doesn’t waste a word.” —Orlando Sentinel
“Adeptly switching between scenes of Stone’s professional and personal lives, Parker illuminates the dark-cornered minds of sociopaths.” —Entertainment Weekly
“Parker adroitly manages to keep the suspense quotient high.” —The Washington Post Book World
“A snappy page-turner.” —The Albany Times Union
“Stark prose and plenty of action is what this novel is all about.” —Midwest Book Review
PRAISE FOR ROBERT B. PARKER AND THE SPENSER NOVELS . . .
“A MASTER OF MURDEROUS IRONY.”
—Los Angeles Times
“ONE OF THE GREAT SERIES IN THE HISTORY OF THE AMERICAN DETECTIVE STORY.”
—The New York Times
NOW & THEN
Investigating a case of infidelity sounds simple—until it plunges Spenser and his beloved Susan into a politically charged murder plot that’s already left three people dead.
“This is vintage Parker, filled with banter and repartee, swagger and rule-skirting . . . a page-turner.” —The Boston Globe
HUNDRED-DOLLAR BABY
Deadly complications arise when Spenser crosses paths with a runaway girl he had helped years ago.
“Parker in top-notch form.” —The Seattle Times
SCHOOL DAYS
When a young boy is accused of a mass murder, only his grandmother is convinced of his innocence.
“Crackling prose and juicy repartee.” —Entertainment Weekly
COLD SERVICE
When his closest ally is attacked, Spenser redefines friendship in the name of vengeance.
“One hot mystery.” —The Washington Post
“DETECTIVEDOM’S MOST CHARMINGLY LITERATE LOUT.”
—People
“EVERYONE INTERESTED IN MYSTERY AND CONTEMPORARY WRITING IN GENERAL SHOULD READ AT LEAST ONE OF THE SPENSER NOVELS.”
—Library Journal
BAD BUSINESS
A suspicious wife and a cheating husband pose a few dangerous surprises for Spenser.
“A kinky whodunit . . . snappy . . . sexy.” —Entertainment Weekly
BACK STORY
Spenser teams with Jesse Stone to solve a murder three decades old—one that’s still cold as death.
“Good and scary. This [is] superior Parker.” —The Boston Globe
WIDOW’S WALK
Spenser must defend an accused murderess who’s so young, cold, rich, and beautiful, she has to be guilty.
“Delicious fun. Bottom line: A merry Widow.” —People
POTSHOT
Spenser is enlisted to clean up a small Arizona town.
“Outrageously entertaining . . . a hero who can still stand up for himself—and us.” —The New York Times Book Review
HUGGER MUGGER
Spenser hoofs it down south when someone makes death threats against a Thoroughbred racehorse.
“Brisk . . . crackling . . . finishes strong, just like a Thoroughbred.” —Entertainment Weekly
HUSH MONEY
Spenser helps a stalking victim—only to find himself the one being stalked . . .
“Spenser can still punch, sleuth, and wisecrack with the best of them.” —Publishers Weekly
SUDDEN MISCHIEF
A charity fund-raiser, accused of sexual harassment by four women, is wanted for a bigger offense: murder . . .
“Smooth as silk.” —Orlando Sentinel
SMALL VICES
Spenser must solve the murder of a wealthy college student—before the wrong man pays the price . . .
“His finest in years . . . one can’t-put-it-down story.” —San Francisco Chronicle
CHANCE
Spenser heads to Vegas to find the missing husband of a mob princess—but he’s not the only one looking . . .
“As brisk and clever as always.” —Los Angeles Times Book Review
THIN AIR
Spenser thought he could help a friend find his missing wife. Until he learned the nasty truth about Lisa St. Claire . . .
“Full of action, suspense, and thrills.” —Playboy
THE SPENSER NOVELS
Sixkill
Painted Ladies
The Professional
Rough Weather
Now & Then
Hundred-Dollar Baby
School Days
Cold Service
Bad Business
Back Story
Widow’s Walk
Potshot
Hugger Mugger
Hush Money
Sudden Mischief
Small Vices
Chance
Thin Air
Walking Shadow
Paper Doll
Double Deuce
Pastime
Stardust
Playmates
Crimson Joy
Pale Kings and Princes
Taming a Sea-Horse
A Catskill Eagle
Valediction
The Widening Gyre
Ceremony
A Savage Place
Early Autumn
Looking for Rachel Wallace
The Judas Goat
Promised Land
Mortal Stakes
God Save the Child
The Godwulf Manuscript
THE JESSE STONE NOVELS
Split Image
Night and Day
Stranger in Paradise
High Profile
Sea Change
Stone Cold
Death in Paradise
Trouble in Paradise
Night Passage
THE SUNNY RANDALL NOVELS
Spare Change
Blue Screen
Melancholy Baby
Shrink Rap
Perish Twice
Family Honor
THE VIRGIL COLE/EVERETT HITCH NOVELS
Blue-Eyed Devil
Brimstone
Resolution
Appaloosa
ALSO BY ROBERT B. PARKER
A Triple Shot of Spenser
Double Play
Gunman’s Rhapsody
All Our Yesterdays
A Year at the Races
(with Joan H. Parker)
Perchance to Dream
Poodle Springs
(with Raymond Chandler)
Love and Glory
Wilderness
Three Weeks in Spring
(with Joan H. Parker)
Training with Weights
(with John R. Marsh)
A JESSE STONE NOVEL
STONE
COLD
Robert B. Parker
BERKLEY BOOKS, NEW YORK
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
STONE COLD
A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
G. P. Putnam’s Sons hardcover edition / September 2003
Berkley mass-market edition / October 2004
Berkley premium edition / August 2009
Copyright © 2003 by Robert B. Parker.
Cover illustration by Pyrographx.
Cover design by Judith Murello.
All rights reserved.
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Robert B Parker: The Jesse Stone Novels 1-5 Page 65
