“Which,” Jenn said, “is much better than being two people who don’t.”

“So you don’t mind about the undressing and lying down.”

“I like it,” Jenn said.

“And you don’t feel objectified.”

“Ob—what?” Jenn said. “Christ, you’re getting like whats-isname, Hamlet. You think too much. We are much more than the damn missionary position and we both know it.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with the missionary position,” Jesse said.

4 1

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

“A little unimaginative, maybe,” Jenn said.

In the harbor there were lights showing on the bigger boats moored farther out. Cocktail on the deck, supper cook-ing in the galley, the running lights of a small tender boat creeping soundlessly across the black water like a firefly. Jesse drank some Coke. Caffeine. Any stimulus is better than none.

“Dix and I talked about how sexually charged our relationship is,” Jesse said.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Jenn said.

She poured herself a half glass more of red wine.

“Maybe you’re supposed to sexualize our relationship.

Ever think about that, Hamlet boy? Maybe it has to do with you loving me more than the spoken word can tell.”

“Well,” Jesse said, “there’s that.”

4 2

10

H ealy hiked his pants up at the knee when he sat, to keep the crease. He had on a

tan poplin suit and a coffee-colored snap-brim straw hat with a wide brown headband. His plain-toed cordovan shoes gleamed with polish.

“On my way home,” Healy said. “Thought I’d stop in, see what’s happening with your floater.”

Jesse pointed over his shoulder at the photo.

“That her?” Healy said.

A blowup of Florence Horvath’s driver’s license was stuck on a cork board to the left of the window behind Jesse’s desk.

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

“That’s her, Captain,” Jesse said. “Florence Horvath, thirty-four years old, address in Fort Lauderdale. She had her teeth cleaned a month ago and charged it on her credit card. We called the dentist, got the dental records, forensic people compared them.”

“You’re lucky,” Healy said. “Lot of floaters are such a mess we never do figure out who they are.”

“Got nothing to do with luck,” Jesse said.

“Right,” Healy said. “It was crack police work that some guy walked in and handed you her driver’s license and credit card.”

“And,” Jesse said, “we didn’t lose them.”

“Got me there,” Healy said. “Now that you know who she is, do you know why she’s up here?”

“Not yet.”

“I’m only a state police captain,” Healy said, “not a chief of police, like you, but since you found her in the water and since this is Race Week, could there be a connection?”

“I got a couple of people checking the yachts in the harbor, see if any of them are out of Fort Lauderdale.”

“Or even docked there in the last three weeks,” Healy said.

“If she came on a yacht.”

“If,” Healy said. “How about the airlines?”

“No Florence Horvath on any of them.”

“Not just from Florida,” Healy said.

“From anywhere,” Jesse said.

“Molly been working her ass off,” Healy said. “How about a car.”

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“Nope.”

“Rental car?”

“None of the big agencies, at least, have her in the computer,” Jesse said. “We haven’t gotten to the Rent-a-Lemon yet.”

“Nothing on her credit card to indicate a rental.”

“Could have several credit cards.”

“True.”

“Hotels?” Healy said.

“What is this,” Jesse said, “a quiz?”

“Trying to learn police work,” Healy said.

“She’s not registered in any of the area hotels.”

“Including Boston?”

“Including Boston.”

“Anybody in town she might be visiting?” Healy said.

“One family named Horvath. I called them. They never heard of her.”

“Doesn’t mean they didn’t kill her.”

“We don’t know if anyone killed her,” Jesse said. “Could just as well be an accident for all the forensics we got.”

“Sure,” Healy said. “She fell overboard and drowned and no one noticed.”

“For all we know,” Jesse said, “she fell off the Queen Eliz-abeth on her way to Liverpool and the currents brought her in.”

“You think so?” Healy said.

“No,” Jesse said.

“Usually when someone is missing for the length of time 4 5

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

she was in the water,” Healy said, “somebody wonders where she is.”

“That’s true whether it’s murder or not,” Jesse said.

“But if she were traveling, and the only person who knew her was the person she was traveling with, and that person killed her . . .” Healy rolled his hand.

Jesse leaned back in his swivel chair and grinned at Healy.

“It was a quiz, and we both aced it,” Jesse said. “Sure, I’m with you. I think she was murdered.”

“But you have no proof,” Healy said.

“Hell no,” Jesse said. “Not yet.”

“She might have arrived by bus,” Healy said.

“Yeah, and she might have hitchhiked. I got twelve people in this department including me. We’re dancing as fast as we can dance.”

Healy smiled.

“You got a homicide. I’m the commanding officer of the state homicide unit.”

“So you’re offering to help?”

“I am.”

“Never too big to give the little guy a hand,” Jesse said.

“Exactly,” Healy said.

“Just as long as we’re clear on whose case it is.”

“It belongs to all of us,” Healy said, “who love truth and justice.”

“Like hell,” Jesse said. “It belongs to me.”

“Oh,” Healy said. He shrugged. “Okay.”

4 6

11

J esse was on the phone to a detective in Fort Lauderdale named Kelly Cruz.

“Your floater was a woman of means,”

Kelly Cruz said.

“Really?”

“Un-huh, family owns a bunch of health food markets all over the South. Plum and Partridge.”

“Cute,” Jesse said.

“It’s even cuter,” Kelly Cruz said. “Family name is Plum.”

“Not Horvath,” Jesse said.

“Nope, that’s a married name,” Kelly Cruz said. “She’s had several.”

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

“You know the husbands?” Jesse said.

“Not yet,” Kelly Cruz said. “But she was divorced most recently from a guy named Lawton Horvath.”

“What do you know about Lawton?”

“White, blond hair, even tan, slim, good at golf and tennis, pretty good at bridge, no visible means of support.”

“When’s the last time Lawton saw her?” Jesse said.

“When they got divorced. He got the house and a cash settlement. She moved here.”

“Worked out nicely for Lawton,” Jesse said. “He with anyone now?”

He could hear the laughter in Kelly Cruz’s voice.

“Attractive young heiress, recently divorced, with a thing for older men,” she said.

“We may have stumbled across his means of support,”

Jesse said.

“We’re law officers,” Kelly Cruz said. “We’re probably too suspicious.”

“What else you know about Florence?”

“Soon as she moved to Fort Lauderdale she joined the East Bay Yacht Club,” Kelly Cruz said. “Started hanging out at the bar there. Bartender says she was making a lot of friends fast.”

“Male friends?”

“Yep.”

“Got any names?”

“Not yet, you know, it’s not really our case,” Kelly Cruz said. “I’m the only one working it.”

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“Understand,” Jesse said.

“I found something sort of interesting when I tossed her condo. I’ll FedEx it to you, you gimme a FedEx number.”

“Tight budget in Fort Lauderdale,” Jesse said.

“Like I say, it’s not our case.”

Jesse gave her the Federal Express number.