“Evening,” he said.
“Hello.”
“Who’s minding the kids?” Crow said.
“My mother,” Molly said. “My husband is in Newport.”
Why did I say that?
“Why?” Crow said.
“A boat he built got damaged in a storm,” Molly said. “The owner won’t let anyone else work on it.”
“Good at his work,” Crow said.
“Yes.”
Crow nodded. They passed the head of the wharf.
“Got time for a drink?” Crow said.
Molly paused. She felt it in her stomach and along her spine. She looked at her watch.
“Sure,” she said, and they turned onto the wharf and walked down to the Gray Gull.
“Bar or table?” Crow said.
“Damn,” Molly said. “I’m in uniform.”
“Leave the raincoat on,” Crow said. “Who will know.”
Molly nodded.
“Table,” she said.
Crow nodded and pointed at a table, and the young woman doing hostess duty led them to it. Molly ordered a vodka gimlet; Crow had Maker’s Mark on the rocks.
“How many kids have you?” Crow said.
“Four.”
“They okay?”
“Sometimes I think no kids are okay, but they’re as okay as anyone else’s kids.”
“Husband?”
“It’s a good marriage,” Molly said.
So what am I doing here?
“How’s the Francisco kid?”
“A mess,” Molly said. “If she were mine, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“If she were yours,” Crow said, “she’d be different.”
Molly nodded.
“Probably,” Molly said. “You married?”
“I’m not here to talk about me,” Crow said.
“Even if I want to?”
“I don’t talk about me,” Crow said.
“So…” Molly paused.
Do I want to go this way?
“So,” Molly started again. “What are we here to talk about?”
Crow smiled.
“Sex,” he said.
She felt herself clench for a moment and release.
This is crazy. The man is a stone killer.
“What aspect of sex did you have in mind?” Molly said.
“You and me, once, no strings,” Crow said.
Molly met his gaze. They were silent for a moment.
Then Molly said, “Why?”
“We both want to,” Crow said.
“You’re so sure of me?” Molly said.
“Yes.”
“How can you know?”
Crow grinned at her.
“It’s an Apache thing,” he said.
“And my husband?”
“You’ll continue to love him, and the kids,” Crow said.
Molly sipped her gimlet.
My God!
“You ever sleep with an Indian?” Crow said.
“No.”
Crow grinned again.
“And I never slept with a cop,” he said.
“And would we do this where?” Molly said. “Behind the lobster pots? In the car?”
“Sea Spray Inn,” Crow said. “I have a suite.”
Molly nodded.
“Would you like to have dinner and think about it?” Crow said.
Molly shook her head slowly. She was aware of her breathing. Aware of her pulse. Looking straight at Crow, she took a long, slow breath. She let it out slowly. Then she smiled.
“I prefer to eat afterwards,” she said.
Crow nodded. He took a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket and put it on the table. Then they stood up and left.
57.
Jesse was drinking coffee at his desk at 7:30 in the morning when Healy came in.
“I thought when you made captain you didn’t have to get up so early,” Jesse said.
“By the time you make captain,” Healy said, “you been getting up early for so long, you can’t change the habit.”
He poured himself some coffee and sat down across the desk from Jesse.
“Solve any homicides recently?” Healy said.
“No,” Jesse said.
“Me either,” Healy said. “I had one of our accounting guys look into the Fiedlers’ financial situation for you.”
“And?”
“They have a net worth of two hundred eighty-eight thousand dollars,” Healy said.
“Including their house?” Jesse said. “Their house must be worth three million.”
“Almost none of it equity,” Healy said. “There’s two mortgages on it.”
“They are supposed to be one of the wealthiest families in town,” Jesse said.
“I remembered you telling me that,” Healy said. “So I told the accountant to poke around a little. According to what he got from the IRS and God knows where else, the accountant says that ten years ago they had a net worth in the area of fifty million.”
“What happened to it?”
“Don’t know,” Healy said. “Don’t know if they hid it, or spent it, or lost it. What I know is what the accountant told me. They got a net worth lower than mine.”
“Low,” Jesse said.
Healy nodded.
“How you doing with your crime wave,” Healy said.
“Badly.”
“Any other help you want from the Massachusetts State Police?”
“I’m doing so badly,” Jesse said, “I don’t even know what help to ask for.”
“Your man Crow involved in any of this?” Healy said.
“When did he become my man?” Jesse said.
“He’s not mine,” Healy said.
“Lucky you,” Jesse said. “Sure he’s involved. But I can’t prove it…yet.”
“Where do the Fiedlers come in?” Healy said.
“I don’t know,” Jesse said.
“But you wanted to know their finances,” Healy said.
“Mrs. Fiedler seems so committed to stalling that school project,” Jesse said. “I kind of wondered why.”
“And her finances tell you?”
“Her maiden name was Crowne,” Jesse said. “The property belonged to her father. He left it to charity, but if the charity doesn’t use it, it goes to her.”
“And it’s worth a lot of money,” Healy said.
“Ten million,” Jesse said.
Healy nodded.
“If you got fifty million, another ten is nice but not crucial,” Healy said. “However, if you’re down to your last three hundred thousand…”
“And you have two mortgages on your house,” Jesse said, “ten million could save your ass.”
“Nice to know it’s not simple bigotry,” Healy said.
58.
The man was wearing very good clothes when he walked into Jesse’s office. White suit, black-and-white striped shirt, white tie. Everything fit him exactly. His black shoes gleamed with polish. He had a neat goatee and, disconcertingly amid all the grooming, a lot of long, black hair.
“My name is Louis Francisco,” he said.
“Jesse Stone.”
“I’m looking for my daughter.”
Jesse nodded.
“Do you know where she is?” Francisco said.
“I do.”
“Where?” Francisco said.
“I won’t say.”
“With you?” Francisco said.
“No.”
“She is a fourteen-year-old girl,” Francisco said.
Jesse could hear no accent of any kind in Francisco’s speech, neither ethnic nor regional. It was as if he’d been taught to speak by a radio announcer.
“She is safe,” Jesse said. “There’s a female police officer with her.”
“You’ve been kind to take her in,” Francisco said. “But I am her father.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“I’ve come to take her home,” Francisco said.
“She doesn’t want to go with you,” Jesse said.
“Many children defy their parents. It doesn’t mean they should be allowed to run wild.”
“You can’t have her,” Jesse said.
“You do not, I believe, have any legal authority to prevent me,” Francisco said.
Jesse nodded.
“Bring suit,” Jesse said. “We’ll run it through the courts.”
Francisco smiled pleasantly.
“Perhaps I will,” he said. “Do you happen to know a man named Wilson Cromartie?”