Sea Change

“Scumbags,” Molly said, “all of them. The men, the women, the damned victim. All of them. After I just talk about them, for God’s sake, I feel like I should take a long shower.”

2 1 2

S E A C H A N G E

“We do know more about them than anyone would want,”

Jesse said. “That’s how murder investigations sometimes go.

You accumulate evidence and accumulate evidence and a lot of it makes you want to puke and most of it doesn’t solve your case.”

“So how are you going to solve this one?”

“Same old way,” Jesse said. “Keep asking. Keep pushing.

Try to scare them. Maybe somebody will roll on somebody.

Maybe somebody will do something stupid.”

“Little hard to get somebody to roll on a murder rap by threatening them with stat rape,” Molly said.

“You might if you were willing to let one of them walk,”

Jesse said.

“Are you?”

“No,” Jesse said.

“Accomplice testimony doesn’t get you anything in court, anyway,” Molly said.

Jesse sat on the edge of the conference table near Molly.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jesse said. “I’m going to get them both.”

They were quiet. Molly doodled a frowning happy face on her yellow pad. Jesse sat on the table edge and let his feet swing.

“You and Jenn okay?” Molly said.

“Yes.”

“Living together is okay?”

“Yes.”

“So far.”

2 1 3

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

“God, you’re cautious about this,” Molly said.

“I worry that I’ll do it again,” Jesse said.

“Do what?”

“Whatever drove her away last time.”

“Maybe she did something,” Molly said.

“I mean I know she did things, cheated on me and stuff, but what did I do to cause it.”

“Maybe nothing,” Molly said. “Maybe it was her fault.”

Jesse shook his head.

“Course,” Molly said. “If it’s her fault you got no control over it. Your fault, you do. You can be very careful.”

Jesse continued to look out the window.

After a time he said, “Thanks, Molly.”

And Molly left.

2 1 4

45

W hen I’m stuck,” Healy said, “I go over it.”

“All of it,” Jesse said.

“Start at page one of my notebook and

go page by page all the way through.”

It was Sunday. They were on his balcony looking at the harbor. Healy had a can of beer. Jesse was drinking Coke.

Jenn was in the production office looking at videotape. On the floor of the patio a thick-bodied, middle-aged Welsh corgi lay on his side, his eyes closed, his nose pointed at the ocean. Jesse had put a soup bowl full of water near him. The soup bowl was white with a blue line around the rim.

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

“I know,” Jesse said.

“But you don’t want to,” Healy said.

“I don’t.”

“I’ll do it with you,” Healy said. “A second set of ears.”

“On a Sunday?”

“Sure.”

“It’ll take all day.”

“Not a problem,” Healy said.

“Something bad going on at your house?” Jesse said.

“My wife’s younger brother is visiting with his wife,”

Healy said. “They have young children.”

“You don’t care for young children.”

“Neither one of us,” Healy said. “But it’s her brother.”

“And the dog?”

“They annoy the hell out of Buck,” Healy said. “When he can, he bites them.”

“So it wasn’t all about helping me when you dropped by.”

“It was nothing about that,” Healy said. “Why don’t you get your notebook.”

Jesse went to his bedroom and got the notebook and brought it back.

“You want another beer?” he said.

“No,” Healy said. “I’m fine.”

Jesse always marveled at people who could nurse any drink. He had already finished his Coke.

“Okay,” he said. “She washes ashore near the town wharf. . . .”

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S E A C H A N G E

And they went through it. Incident by incident. Interview by interview. Day by day.

“Cruz broad sounds pretty good,” Healy said at one point.

Jesse nodded.

“People don’t always work that hard to clear somebody else’s case,” Healy said.

“I think she’s kind of hooked into it,” Jesse said. “Talking to all the people.”

Healy nodded.

“Happens,” he said.

Jesse went on.

“I went aboard when everyone was at the clambake,” he read.

“With a warrant,” Healy said.

Jesse smiled, and didn’t say anything.

“Okay,” Healy said. “No warrant. I, of course, don’t know that and never thought to ask.”

“Absolutely,” Jesse said.

He went on. Healy listened. At one point Buck got up and drank water loudly from the blue-rimmed soup bowl.

When he was through he went back to where had been, turned around twice and reassumed his position, with his nose pointed seaward.

“The twins told their parents they were in Europe,” Jesse said. “But they were actually in Sag Harbor, New York, with some guy named Carlos Coca.”

“You check that?” Healy said.

2 1 7

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

“No.”

“There’s a loose end,” Healy said.

“Here’s another one,” Jesse said. “They say they learned of their sister’s death from someone named Kimmy Young.”

“Haven’t checked her out, either,” Healy said.

“No.”

“Happens,” Healy said.

“Shouldn’t,” Jesse said.

Healy shrugged.

“Where’s Kimmy Young from?”

“Don’t know,” Jesse said. “I assume South Florida.”

“I’ll bet Kelly Cruz can find her,” Healy said.