“That’s true,” Jesse said.

2 4 8

S E A C H A N G E

“Like they’ve been bad little girls, telling on Daddy, tattletales,” Molly said and drank. “Tattletales.”

Jesse didn’t speak. He had nothing to say in the face of Molly’s overpowering maternity. He listened.

“And what about them now?” Molly said. “Back in the hotel after the day they spent with us? What happens to them?”

“They don’t know anything they didn’t know before,”

Jesse said.

“So what do they do?”

“My guess?” Jesse said. “Do some coke. Do some booze.

Get laid. Giggle some.”

Molly stared at him.

“God.”

Jesse shrugged.

“That’s how they’ve coped until now,” he said.

“Jesse, these are twenty-year-old kids. They’re five years older than my daughter.”

“And they are depraved, stupid, careless, amoral people,”

Jesse said.

“They are victims.”

“That may be,” Jesse said. “But sympathizing with them is not my business. My business is catching the person who killed their sister.”

“So why did you have to dig up all this awfulness?” Molly said.

“It was there,” Jesse said. “I needed to know about it.”

Molly held out her glass.

2 4 9

R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“One more,” she said. “Then I’ll go home and take a bath.”

Molly wasn’t a drinker. She was starting to slur her words.

Jesse poured her another drink. She took a sip and looked at him over the glass. Her eyes had a sort of softness about them, the way Jenn’s got if she drank too much.

“You are so nice,” Molly said. “So often. And then . . . you are such a cynical, hard bastard.”

“Nice guys finish last,” Jesse said.

“Somebody said that.”

“Leo Durocher.”

“You know you don’t believe it.”

“Hell,” Jesse said. “I’ve proved it.”

Molly didn’t say anything else. She sat quietly and finished her third drink. Jesse sipped his Coke.

When Molly’s drink was gone, Jesse said, “Come on, hon, I’ll drive you home.”

“I can drive myself,” she said.

“No,” Jesse said. “You can’t.”

2 5 0

53

R ita Fiore’s office offered a long view of the South Shore.

“Ms. Fiore will be right with you,” the

secretary said and left.

Jesse looked at the South Shore for a short while until Rita came in wearing a red suit and sat behind her desk.

“Wow,” she said, “a coat and tie.”

“Trying to fit in,” Jesse said. “You talk to your private eye?”

“I did,” Rita said.

She took a notebook from her middle drawer and opened it and thumbed through some pages.

“He gave me what he had.”

R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“Didn’t I run into him once?” Jesse said. “Working on something in Paradise?”

“I think so,” Rita said.

“Him and a terrifying black guy.”

“Terrifying is one description,” Rita said. “Toothsome would be another.”

Jesse smiled.

“What did he tell you?” he said.

Rita looked at her notes.

“They wanted to know if he could find a person and track his movements,” Rita paused and studied her notes a moment.

“I hate my handwriting,” she said. “And he said, ‘You want someone followed?’ and they said mostly they wanted to know where someone had been in the last few months. And he said that was possible, who did they have in mind?”

Rita looked up and smiled.

“Then they ran into a snag,” Rita said. “The girls didn’t want to tell him who.”

“Whose movements they wanted him to discover?”

“That’s right.”

She returned to her notes and studied them for a moment.

“He said that it would be difficult to trace someone’s movements if he didn’t know who they were, and, he told me, ‘They acted like they hadn’t thought of that.’ He told me, ‘They kept looking at each other and silently agree-ing that they couldn’t give the name.’ So he declined the employment offer . . . he claims, graciously.”

2 5 2

S E A C H A N G E

“They give him any clue where he was supposed to look?”

Jesse said.

“Miami and Boston,” she said.

Rita looked at her notes.

“Miami or Boston,” she said, “or travel between.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jesse said.

Rita waited. Jesse didn’t say anything.

“I would guess,” Rita said after a time of silence, “that I have provided you a clue.”

“Yes,” Jesse said.

They were quiet again.

Then Rita said, “I would guess that you are not going to share it with me.”

“Also true,” Jesse said.

“Because?”

“Because you are the best criminal defense lawyer in the state,” Jesse said. “And you might end up defending someone I want convicted.”

“Are you suggesting I would take unfair advantage of our, ah, relationship?”

“Yes.”

Rita smiled.

“Well, of course,” she said. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to call Kelly Cruz,” Jesse said.

“Who’s Kelly Cruz?”

“Somebody I’m going to call,” Jesse said.

Jesse stood. Rita stared at him for a moment.

2 5 3

R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“If I’d known you were like this,” she said, “I’d never have bopped your socks off.”

Jesse grinned at her.

“Yeah,” he said. “You would have.”

And they both began to laugh.

2 5 4

54

B ack with the Plums, Kelly Cruz thought, as she sat on the same terrace, looking at the same blue-green water. Mr. and Mrs. Plum

were both tanned and immaculate in white. The drink trolley was set up on the terrace. It was late afternoon and the cocktail hour had begun. Probably been in effect for a while, Kelly Cruz thought. She declined alcohol, and accepted a 7-Up.

“Just a few follow-up questions,” Kelly Cruz said when they were all settled. “Have you been traveling at all in the last couple of months?”

“No, we haven’t,” Mr. Plum said pleasantly.

He smiled at Kelly Cruz. His eyes crinkled attractively when he smiled.

R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“Say, since the end of May?”

“No, we haven’t,” Mr. Plum said, just as pleasantly.

“Mrs. Plum?” Kelly Cruz said.

“No,” she said. “I believe Willis drove up to Tallahassee, around the beginning of June, but I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“No, I didn’t, Mommy,” Mr. Plum said.

“You went up to visit the new store,” Mrs. Plum said.

Mrs. Plum looked at Kelly Cruz.

“Willis loves to get in the car and drive off by himself. He drives all over the country.”

“No,” Mr. Plum was kind but firm, “you’re confused.”

Mrs. Plum looked at her husband. He was serene in his certainty, sipping a gin and tonic today. Pacing himself, Kelly Cruz thought.

“Didn’t you open a new store in Tallahassee? Right after Memorial Day?”

Mr. Plum smiled fondly at his wife.

“Mommy, you’re getting old on me. I didn’t go anywhere in June.”

“You have a car,” Kelly Cruz said.

“My dear,” Mr. Plum said. “Of course we do.”

“Wow,” Kelly Cruz said. “I never think of cars at a place like this. Is there a parking garage?”

“Indeed,” Mr. Plum said. “And valet service all through the day and night.”

He seemed proud.

“I suppose you have assigned spaces?” Kelly Cruz said.

“Probably deeded.”

2 5 6

S E A C H A N G E

She was aware as she chatted with Mr. Plum that Mrs.

Plum was staring at him. Mr. Plum looked at her indulgently.

“Of course,” he said kindly.

He rang a small bell, and the Cuban maid came in and brought the Plums another drink from the trolley. Kelly Cruz nursed her 7-Up. As he sipped his new drink, Mr.