“But you killed Updike.”
“With my bare hands,” White said, voice full of pride. “I strangled the life out of that weasel as soon as the lawsuits were settled. Otherwise, he would have kept soaking us. Terry’s care cost so much money.”
“But why this? Why now?” Jesse asked. “That’s the one thing Roscoe and Bella couldn’t tell me.”
“Because I got word Terry’s going to be dead in a few months. Leukemia.” White’s tears were flowing again. “I needed to finally cash out and use the myth one last time to do it.”
“How’d you get Bascom on board?”
White laughed. “He was easy. He had gambling debts up the wazoo. He’d already blown most of his pension. And who can say no to Bella besides you? Bascom knew all the wrong people, which is what I needed. I planted the safety-deposit box key in the old lady’s house a few months ago under the guise of a prospective buyer. It was my mother’s key. She kept it like that, taped to an index card. Then I needed someone to discover the key and get the whole thing going. Bascom hired those two idiots. We didn’t figure on the old lady dying. I’m sorry about that and the delivery guy.”
“Too late for sorrow now, Stan. And killing Curnutt?”
White shrugged. “He became like another Updike. Once he figured out what was going on, he wanted a lot of money. We didn’t have it. We had used almost every dime we had to set it all up, so what choice did we have? Besides, it gave us an opportunity to get the press involved. That was smart of you, Jesse, trying to force our hand by keeping the press starved for facts. We didn’t count on you being so sharp. Roscoe said you were a drunk and lost after your fiancée’s... you know.”
“He was right, Stan.”
“So where does this leave us, Jesse?” White took another big pull on the vodka bottle. Jesse edged a little closer. “I don’t suppose there’s any wiggle room for me here.”
“Not an inch.”
Jesse had hoped that might cause White to go for the vodka bottle again, but instead he went for the .38. Not even Ozzie Smith in his prime could have made up the distance between them and prevented Stan White from beating Terry Jester into the next life.
91
By the end of August, Paradise had fallen back into its usual late-summer rhythms. Suit was home with Elena. It still made Jesse smile remembering how Suit had asked if there was any excitement in town while he was gone.
“A little, Suit,” Jesse had said. “Just a little.”
The press was gone and were back at covering stories that mattered. True to his word, Jesse had given Ed Selko an exclusive. All the crime scene tape had been taken down from the Cain house and the nature preserve. The dragonfly ring had been returned to the museum and was on display with the remainder of the jewelry from the set. The Wickham estate had been rented for the fall to some painter Jesse had never heard of.
Jesse parked his Explorer, new tires et al., at the station, walked into his office, and tossed his keys onto his desk. The thing was, Molly was sitting behind the desk.
“Morning, Chief Crane,” he said, saluting.
“That’s Acting Chief Crane to you, Stone. I may hate you forever for this.”
“I doubt it.”
“Don’t be so sure, Jesse. I’m about as comfortable in this chair as a man wearing sandpaper underwear.”
“I’ll be back in five or six weeks or so. Relax, Molly.”
“I know. So how long you figure it’ll take you and Tamara to get down to Austin?”
“A week. We’re going to do a little sightseeing on the way. Then I’ll spend a few days with her until she settles in.”
“Are you sure about this, Jesse?”
“About rehab? No, but Dix says the place I’m going to is as good as any.”
“I don’t mean about will it work,” she said, exasperated. “I mean are you sure you should go?”
“Uh-huh.”
Molly changed subjects. “Do you think Bella Lawton will get prosecuted for Bascom’s murder?”
“She deserves it. It’s the right thing to do, but that’s up to the DA. I told her all bets were off if she lied in the statement.”
Molly shook her head. “That was brilliant the way you let Niles hear Bella’s interview. He couldn’t wait to give us a full statement implicating her after he heard that.”
“Old trick.”
“I hear you’ve got an offer on your house.”
Jesse smiled. “It’s all but sold. Closing should all be set up by the time I get back.”
There was a knock on the office door.
Jesse opened his mouth to answer, but it was Molly who said, “Come in.”
Nita Thompson came into the office looking unusually casual in jeans, a loose-fitting floral blouse, and sandals.
“Morning, Chief Crane,” she said. “Can I borrow Jesse for a few minutes?”
“You can keep him for all I care.” Both women laughed. Molly stood. “You two stay. I’ve got work to do.”
When the door closed behind Molly, Nita said, “I wanted to say so long. I won’t be here when you get back.”
“No?”
“I’m movin’ on up. I landed me a United States Senate candidate.” Nita pantomimed hooking a fish and reeling it in.
“Congratulations.”
“I also wanted to apologize for some of the things I said about you, Jesse. I’m sorry.”
“It’s forgotten.”
She laughed. “I think I’m sorriest for me. If I’d been a little kinder, I think we could have been friends.”
He winked. “Maybe.”
She stepped close to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck, Jesse Stone.”
He watched her retreat, then went out front to wait for Tamara. Suit came out and stood next to him.
“You look like you lost some weight, Suit.”
“Elena makes me eat right.”
“Good. Now maybe we won’t need a sundial anymore to time you running the bases.”
Suit ignored the dig and brought up Roger Bascom. “I always thought the guy was a jerk, but I never thought he was a killer.”
“Suit, people will do almost anything if they’re hungry or needy enough.”
“I guess.”
Tamara pulled her Jeep up in front of them. “Hey, Suit.”
“Hey, Doc. Good luck in Texas.”
Suit loaded Jesse’s duffel into the backseat and shook Jesse’s hand good-bye. Jesse climbed into the bucket beside Tamara. He had a good idea of what Paradise would be like when he got back, but given that he was headed to rehab, he was much less certain about himself.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank The Estate of Robert B. Parker, Ivan Held, Chris Pepe, and David Hale Smith.
I would also like to express my appreciation to Richard Neer, Ming Liu Parson, Ace Atkins, Tom Schreck, and Ellen W. Schare for their help in the creation of this novel. Special thanks to Peter Spiegelman, who showed me the way out of the weeds on this one.
But I reserve my most heartfelt thanks for Rosanne, Kaitlin, and Dylan. They are the ones who made the hard sacrifices so I could follow my passion. Without their love and support, none of this would have any meaning.