“Not right now, Jenn. Let things settle. Get yourself organized a little before you decide what you need. Maybe you might get some help, a shrink or somebody.”
“I have some friends in therapy,” Jennifer said.
“If you do get help, Jenn, try to get real help. Not some nitwit that reads your aura or does crystal therapy.”
“You think I’m a dreadful fool, don’t you, Jesse.”
“I think you do foolish things, sometimes, Jenn. I don’t think you’re dreadful.”
They drank. Jesse’s glass was empty; he got up, holding the phone, and refilled his glass with ice and scotch.
“Have you met anyone, Jesse?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love her?”
“Not yet,” Jesse said.
“I still love you, Jesse.”
Across the harbor the lights were fewer now as people went to bed. And the ones that still glowed in the black night were more separate and much farther apart.
“Do you still love me, Jesse?”
“I’m trying not to, Jenn.”
“I know, I don’t blame you. But I . . . I don’t like to think about life without you.”
Again Jesse was silent, looking at the disconnected pinpoints of light in the overreaching darkness.
“Can I see you sometime, Jesse?”
“Sure,” Jesse said. “But right now we both need to be a little separate so we can get our heads back in order, I think.”
“Can I call you again?”
“Sure, Jenn. You can call me anytime.”
“I still love you, Jesse.”
“Take care of yourself, Jenn. Don’t do anything impulsively. It’s time to go slow and think things through. If you feel crazy, call me up.”
“Are you succeeding?” Jennifer said.
“Succeeding?”
“You said you were trying not to love me, Jesse. Are you succeeding?”
Jesse took a long breath and let it out and drank some scotch. In the harbor, invisible in the darkness, a bell buoy sounded.
“Not so far, Jenn.”
Chapter 24
Jesse was sitting in the middle booth at the Village Room restaurant a block from the town hall having lunch with Abby Taylor.
“Jenn called me the other night,” Jesse said.
“Oh?”
“She broke up with Elliott.”
“The producer?”
“Yes.”
“So what does that mean?” Abby said.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, what does it mean to us?” Abby said.
“Us?”
“Us. You know, you and me, who have been sort of dating and sleeping together and stuff like that. Us.”
“I don’t know.”
“Christ!” Abby said. “Think about it. Does it mean you’re going to annul the divorce?”
“No. Can you do that?”
“No. Does it mean you are going to dash back to L.A. and move back in with her?”
“No.”
“See, you can think about this. Do you still love her?”
The waitress came to the booth.
“Who gets the tuna?” the waitress said.
Jesse pointed at Abby. The waitress set the plate down in front of her.
“And you must get the club.”
Jesse nodded. The waitress put it down in front of him and went off. Jesse picked up a wedge of sandwich.
“Do you?” Abby said.
“Still love her?”
“Un huh.”
Jesse put the sandwich wedge back down on the plate and leaned back in the booth.
“I don’t know where it will go with Jenn,” Jesse said. “I don’t even know where I want it to go.”
“That’s comforting,” Abby said.
“What I know is that I’m not a good basket to put all your eggs in at the moment, you understand. I don’t know if I love Jenn or not right now. I don’t know if I can love anybody but Jenn right now. I like you, and we have fun together, but I don’t know what it will be like between us next week or next month. Until I get myself clear about Jenn . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence because he didn’t know how to. So he let it hang unfinished. Abby met his look for a moment and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her eyes glistened. Then she looked down at her sandwich.
They were quiet for a time neither talking nor eating.
Then Abby said, “Well, consider myself warned, I guess.”
She looked up at him and smiled very brightly.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t eat lunch,” she said and her voice was as bright as her smile. Jesse didn’t feel very hungry at the moment, but he started on his sandwich because he didn’t know what else to do.
Jo Jo Genest came into the restaurant and took a seat at the counter. He was wearing a sleeveless black tee shirt and his arms bulged obscenely. He swiveled on the counter stool and rested his back and elbows against the counter and looked at Jesse. Jesse finished chewing a bite of his sandwich and looked back at Jo Jo. He was a city cop, and he had long ago mastered the dead-eyed city cop stare. Jo Jo’s stare was more of a smirk, Jesse thought. They held the stare for about a minute, which to Abby, sitting in the booth watching them, seemed like an hour. Then Jo Jo wheeled slowly around on his stool and faced the counter and ordered a steak sandwich.
“Doesn’t he scare you?” Abby said softly.
Jesse shrugged.
“Like hell,” Abby said. “No shrugging. I asked you a question I want you to answer.”
Jesse didn’t like her tone and it showed in the look he gave her. But Abby held his look.
“Talk about yourself, Jesse. I want to know you.”
“What’s to know?” Jesse said.
“Well, for instance, are you scared of Jo Jo Genest?”
Through his nose Jesse took a long inhale and a long exhale, and pursed his lips. His right hand rested on the tabletop and he tapped it several times, as if listening to music that Abby couldn’t hear. She waited.
“On the one hand,” Jesse said, “Jo Jo’s big and strong and stupid and mean and he’s mad at me. I’d be an idiot not to be scared of him. On the other hand, if I have to, I can shoot him just as easy as if he were small and weak and smart and kindly.”
“And you’d be willing to do that?” Abby said.
“I’d be willing,” Jesse said.
“You ever shoot anyone?”
“Yes.”
“Kill him?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
Jesse shifted uncomfortably.
“He had a machete,” Jesse said. “Nine years ago.”
“You would have been, what? Twenty-six?”
Jesse nodded. Abby waited. Jesse didn’t continue.
“So you shot him dead?” Abby said.
“Yes.”
“Did you mean to?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t try to wound him, you know, shoot him in the leg or something?”
“You shoot, you always shoot to kill. It’s not the movies. You’re in a crisis situation, you got about a half second to do what needs to be done. Your heart’s pounding, you can’t swallow. It feels like you can’t get your breath and you got some guy with a machete. You aim for the middle of the mass and you try to remember not to jerk the trigger.”
Abby nodded slowly as she watched his face.
“Listening to you talk,” Abby said. “It’s in there.”
“What exactly?” Jesse said.
“I don’t know exactly. I sensed it when we made love. I guess I thought of it as, you know, ‘My he’s strong,’ ” Abby said. “But that wasn’t really it.”
“Jenn said I was very fierce.”
Abby nodded. “Something like that. I suppose you need to be that way if you’re a policeman.”
“Maybe I’m a policeman because I’m that way,” Jesse said.
“And that’s why you’re not scared of Jo Jo.”
Jesse smiled.
“It is prudent to be scared of Jo Jo. It would also be prudent of Jo Jo to be scared of me.”
Chapter 25
Pat Sears found Captain Cat when he got off the eleven-to-seven shift and parked the cruiser out front and went in to log off. There were three steps up to the front door of the police station. The cat was on the bottom step, dead, with a small sign hanging around its neck. On the sign was written slut in black Magic Marker. By the time Jesse got there most of the police had heard about Captain Cat and several of them had come in, though they weren’t on duty. Nobody said much. He was, after all, only a cat. But he had been their cat and they liked him and they all could see that his death was about them.