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.”
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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.”
2 1 6
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.
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
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.
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“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.”
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R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
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. 2 2 0
H I G H P R O F I L E
“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.
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R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“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.”