No one spoke.
“Here’s what we know,” Jesse said. “The vic is a guy named Rico Larson. His driver’s license says he lives in Miami. He was carrying a Glock nine when he was killed by one bullet from a .350 rifle. The shot probably came from about a hundred yards down the road and across the street. He was shot in front of a condominium town house rented by Wilson Cromartie.”
Suitcase Simpson reached across the table for a donut.
“Crow,” he said.
Jesse nodded.
“Everybody in that neighborhood works during the day,” Jesse said. “No one saw anything. No one heard a shot.”
“We got a theory of the crime?” Peter Perkins asked.
“Guy in Miami,” Jesse said, “his wife ran away, took his daughter with her. Guy in Miami—name’s Francisco—hired Crow to find them. So Crow found them…here. Daughter’s got a boyfriend in Marshport, gang kid named Esteban Carty. Crow calls up Francisco, says, ‘I found them, what do I do now?’ Francisco says, ‘Kill the mother, bring back the daughter.’ Crow says, ‘No.’ This much I get from Crow, and it’s probably true.”
“You been talking to Crow?” Buddy Hall said.
“Yes.”
“How come he didn’t do what the Miami guy wanted?”
“Crow says he likes women,” Jesse said. “And besides, he didn’t feel like it.”
“You believe that?” Cox said.
“I believe he didn’t do it,” Jesse said.
“So how about the mother,” Cox said. “Did he kill her?”
“Crow? I don’t think so. He says it was probably the gang kid, Esteban.”
“That make any sense?” Peter Perkins said.
“Esteban made a deal to turn her over to her father,” Jesse said. “Maybe he made a deal to kill the mother, too.”
“Girl say that?”
“Nope.”
“Wouldn’t she rat out the guy that killed her mother?” Cox said.
“She didn’t like her mother,” Jesse said.
These were small-town guys, most of them not very old, Jesse knew, most of them very conventional. The idea that you wouldn’t like your mother was hard for them. No one said anything.
“She doesn’t like her father, either,” Jesse said. “That’s why she ran away when she found out Esteban was going to take her down there.”
“She come here?” Peter Perkins said.
“Crow brought her in,” Jesse said.
“Crow?” Cox said. “What is it with Crow?”
Jesse shook his head.
“What about this guy in Miami?” Paul Murphy said. “He a bad guy?”
“Big player in the South Florida rackets,” Jesse said.
“So who’s the dead guy?” Murphy said.
“Now, it’s all theory,” Jesse said. “I figure that Francisco sent him up to kill Crow, and bring the girl home.”
“You think he came alone?”
“No one would send one guy after Crow,” Jesse said. “Besides, there’s no car. How did he get there?”
“You think Crow shot him?”
“Probably,” Jesse said.
“And the other guys split,” Murphy said.
“Yep.”
“If Crow’s as good as everybody thinks he is,” Murphy said, “how come he didn’t get more than one?”
Jesse was quiet for a moment, thinking about Crow.
Then he said, “Maybe he didn’t want to.”
“That’s crazy,” Peter Perkins said.
“Crow’s not like other people,” Jesse said. “Suit, you go down to my house and stay with Molly and the kid. I’ll relieve you later. Everyone else, shotguns in every car, cleaned, loaded, no plastic daisies in the barrel. Extra ammo in every car, shotgun and handgun. Vests with you at all times.”
“Jesus, Jesse,” Suit said. “It sounds like you’re expecting a war.”
“Always possible,” Jesse said.
49.
Jesse sat with Jenn on the balcony outside his living room and looked at the harbor as it got dark. Amber was standing in the doorway drinking coffee. She had on tan shorts and a powder-blue T-shirt and too much makeup, but she was, Jesse thought, beginning to look a little less like a punk cliché.
“Have you done any research on the Crowne estate?” Jesse said.
He was sipping scotch. Jenn had a glass of Riesling.
“You mean the estate itself?” Jenn said.
“Yeah.”
“No, you think I should?”
“Yes.”
“Because?”
“Because you can and I don’t have the resources,” Jesse said.
“Why do you think it needs to be researched?” Jenn said.
“I think Miriam Fiedler’s interest in the issue is too large,” Jesse said.
“Explain,” Jenn said.
“Suit says she’s asking questions about me, and the department, and the murder, and can I be bribed.”
“Suit?” Amber said. “The guy that was here with me and Molly?”
“Yes,” Jesse said.
“Why would Miriam Fiedler be asking Suit questions?” Jenn said.
Jesse smiled. Jenn looked at him.
“Why?” Jenn said.
“Remember what I told you about Cissy Hathaway?” Jesse said. “Suit likes older women.”
“Suit and Miriam Fiedler?” Jenn said.
“Suit’s fucking somebody?” Amber said from the doorway.
“Well put,” Jesse said.
“So maybe this Miriam Fiddler or whatever is fucking him so he’ll tell her stuff,” Amber said.
“Maybe,” Jesse said.
“So,” Amber said, “big deal. It happens all the time.”
“You think?” Jesse said.
“How else do you get anything?” Amber said.
“Sometimes women have sex with men because they like them,” Jenn said. “Even sometimes because they love them.”
“Yeah, you bet,” Amber said. “You like him?”
She nodded at Jesse.
“Yes,” Jenn said. “I probably love him.”
“So how come you don’t fuck him?”
“Right now it doesn’t seem like a good idea,” Jenn said.
“So you like him, but you won’t fuck him. And you love him but you’re divorced.”
“That’s about right,” Jenn said.
“You ever fuck some guy to get what you want?” Amber said.
“Yes,” Jenn said.
“See?” Amber said. “No big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” Jenn said. “Because every time you do it you feel weak and worthless.”
“Maybe you do,” Amber said. “Not me.”
“You will,” Jenn said. “It’s cumulative.”
“Huh?”
“The more of it you do,” Jenn said, “the more you feel bad.”
“I like it,” Amber said. “When I’m balling a guy, I’m in charge, you know?”
“Like Esteban,” Jesse said.
Amber didn’t say anything for a moment. Then her eyes filled, and she turned and went through the living room to her bedroom.
“You hurt her feelings,” Jenn said.
“Esteban hurt her feelings,” Jesse said.
“And you reminded her of it.”
“She can’t be lying to herself,” Jesse said. “How is that good for her?”
“Maybe she has so little else,” Jenn said. “You ever see The Ice Man Cometh?”
“No.”
Jenn shrugged.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said.
“My parenting skills are limited,” Jesse said. “But I’m pretty sure the truth is good.”
“Maybe it’s not always,” Jenn said.
“Maybe it isn’t,” Jesse said. “But I’m not too sure about lying, either.”
“I know.”
They were silent. Jesse sipped his scotch. Jenn stared out at the harbor, where the darkness had thickened enough so that the lights on some of the yachts were showing.
“I can check the legal stuff about the Crowne estate,” Jenn said. “Deed, title, whatever. Hell, I can probably get an intern to do that.”
“Might be useful,” Jesse said.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Jenn said. “Now I’m going in to the bedroom and pat Amber on the shoulder for a little bit.”
“Maternal impulse?” Jesse said.
“Damned if I know,” Jenn said, and went inside.