Sea Change

Jesse nodded. He went back to the notes. It was late afternoon when they finished. Jesse had drunk four Cokes. Healy had nearly finished his beer.

“You don’t like to drink?” Jesse said when he picked up the can and found it not quite empty.

“I like to drink,” Healy said. “But I only like to drink a small amount.”

“Hard to imagine,” Jesse said.

“Never liked being drunk,” Healy said.

Jesse nodded. Jenn came in through the front door and walked to the balcony. Buck raised his head, looked at her carefully and put his head back down. Jenn saw Healy’s beer can. Jesse saw her eyes flick to him. She saw the Coca-Cola can.

“Captain Healy,” Jenn said with a big smile. “How nice to see you.”

Jenn was dressed in what she considered weekend leisure 2 1 8

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wear. Yellow running shoes with pale green laces. Green cargo pants with a studded yellow belt. A yellow top, a choker of green beads around her neck and jade earrings.

“Nice to see you, too,” Healy said. “Nice to see you here.”

“I know,” Jenn said.

Jenn crouched on her heels beside the dog. The movement made the cargo pants very smooth along her thighs and butt.

Buck opened his black eyes and made a small movement with his miniscule tail.

“Is that a wag,” Jenn said.

“It is.”

“What’s his name?”

“Buck.”

“May I pat him?” she said.

“Sure,” Healy said. “He only bites kids.”

“Can’t blame him for that, can we?”

“Hell no,” Healy said. “Bite them myself if I wasn’t wor -

ried about my pension.”

2 1 9

46

K elly Cruz sat courtside at the Tennis Club with Mrs. Plum while Mr. Plum played

men’s doubles. Kelly Cruz had an iced tea.

Mrs. Plum was drinking gin and tonic.

“Your husband plays very well,” Kelly Cruz said.

“Yes,” she said. “Doubles.”

“Not a good singles player?” Kelly Cruz said.

“No. I don’t think he could take the stress of one-to-one confrontation. Inferior players used to beat him regularly.

He rarely plays singles anymore.”

“He’s more of a team player,” Kelly Cruz said, to be saying something.

S E A C H A N G E

Mrs. Plum didn’t comment.

“I’m sorry to bother you again,” Kelly Cruz said.

Mrs. Plum drank some gin and tonic. She shrugged.

“It’s not like my days are filled with important matters,”

she said.

Kelly Cruz smiled. She felt very bad for Mrs. Plum.

“Do you know anyone named Kimmy Young?”

“Kimmy Young,” Mrs. Plum said, and took another drink. “Kimmy Young. Yes, of course, she was in school with my twins. She used to come over sometimes. Pajama parties. CDs. Brownies. You know how teenagers are. Her mother was Miss Oklahoma when she was a girl. Married Randy Young, Young Financial Services. He’s done really wonderfully well.”

“Do you know where I might find her?”

“The Youngs moved to Sarasota, I think. They found life in Miami a little fast, I suspect.”

Kelly Cruz glanced around at the sea of tennis whites.

Mrs. Plum noticed.

“They’re somewhat younger than we are,” she said. “I suppose we’ve slowed our pace a bit.”

“Did the girls go to private school?”

“Oh yes.”

“Which one.”

“Vandersea,” Mrs. Plum said. “The Vandersea School.”

“Here in Miami?”

“Yes.”

2 2 1

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

Kelly Cruz wrote briefly in her notebook. Mrs. Plum flagged down a waiter and got another drink.

“Why are you asking about Kimmy?”

“Her name came up in that same case up north,” Kelly Cruz said.

“Kimmy was a nice girl,” Mrs. Plum said, watching her husband serve. “Smart.”

He had a nice hard serve, but Kelly Cruz noticed Mr.

Plum didn’t follow it in. She didn’t know much about tennis; maybe it was strategy.

“Know anyone named Carlos Coca?” Kelly Cruz said as she wrote.

“Heavens, no,” Mrs. Plum said.

Kelly Cruz nodded, and kept writing. The Plums probably wouldn’t know the Cocas.

“It must be exciting being a, ah, policewoman,” Mrs.

Plum said.

“Not too much excitement,” Kelly Cruz said. “Lots of asking questions and taking notes.”

“But it must give you some satisfaction. Solving crimes.

That must seem important.”

Kelly Cruz put the notebook into her purse beside her gun.

“It does,” she said. “Trouble is, then another crime comes along and you’re slogging along again.”

“This is the most important thing I’ll do today,” Mrs.

Plum said.

Kelly Cruz didn’t say anything.

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“The money, you know. The money guts you. After a while all you have left to do is look nice, and drink.”

Kelly Cruz stood and put her hand out.

“Thank you very much,” she said.

Mrs. Plum shook her hand and smiled absently and began to look for the waiter.

2 2 3

47

J esse was on the phone with Carlos Coca in Sag Harbor.

“Who’d you say you were?” Coca said.

“Jesse Stone. I’m chief of police in Paradise, Massachusetts.”

“And why do I want to talk with you?” Coca said.

“So I won’t get a couple of big mean New York state troopers to come over and yank you out of your swimming pool,” Jesse said.

“I’m not in my pool.”

“Figure of speech,” Jesse said. “Tell me about Corliss and Claudia Plum.”

There was silence. Jesse waited.

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