Death in Paradise

"You mean sex?" Jesse said.

"Sure," Molly said. "Or romance, or companionship, or fun."

"Not while you're still around," Jesse said.

Molly laughed.

"I'm a married Irish Catholic," she said. "I don't do any of that stuff."

"So how come you got four kids?"

"I have to sleep sometime," Molly said. "What about Doc Summers?"

Jesse smiled.

"If she presses me," Jesse said, "I may have to sleep with her."

Carla Bishop pedaled up on a black mountain bike with green striping.

"There's the sister," Jesse said.

Carla was talking with some animation to three other girls near the corner of the ice cream stand. The two cops got out of the car and moved across through the crowd. Molly was in uniform. Jesse was not. Those kids that noticed at all eyed the two adults with a mixture of suspicion and contempt. Jesse stopped in front of Carla and waited until she finished a sentence.

Then he took his badge out and showed it to her and said, "Hello, Carla, remember me?"

She turned and stared at him. She looked at Molly in uniform beside him.

"Jesse Stone," he said. "I was at your home the other day."

"What do you want?" she said.

"This is Molly Crane," Jesse said.

"She your wife?"

"She's a cop," Jesse said. "Like me. We need to talk with you, and are willing to bribe you with the ice cream of your choice."

"Big fucking deal," Carla said.

"Okay, no ice cream. We still need to talk."

"About what?"

The other kids had gathered into an audience and Carla was playing to them.

"About Billie."

"Billie?"

"Your sister," Jesse said.

"My sister's name is Emily and she's at college."

"Your other sister. Billie. The one your parents won't talk about."

Carla was silent.

Someone in the audience said, "Billie the Bopper."

Some of the kids snickered.

"Shut up," Carla said.

"Why don't we go sit in the car," Molly said, "and we can talk."

"How come you're a cop?" Carla said to Molly.

It was a sullen question. But even as she asked it, she started to move toward the car. Molly smiled at her as they walked across the street.

"I got sick of being a movie star," Molly said.

Chapter Seventeen

Molly was in the backseat. Carla sat in the front seat with Jesse.

"Do I have to talk with you?" Carla asked Jesse.

"Not yet."

"Shouldn't I have a lawyer or something?"

"You're not under arrest," Jesse said. "We just need to know about your sister Billie."

"You think she's dead?"

"Yes."

"Can't you tell if it's her by looking?"

"No."

Carla was silent.

"So why do you think it's her?"

"The young woman we found was wearing Hooker Royce's class ring on a chain around her neck," Jesse said.

"Does Hooker know where she is?"

"I talked with him on the phone," Molly said. "He doesn't."

Carla's face was pinched, and there was a tightness around her mouth. But Jesse saw no sign of tears.

"What happened to her?" Carla said.

"Someone shot her," Jesse said, "and put her body in a lake."

"Jesus," Carla said.

"Yes."

All three of them were quiet, listening to the air-conditioning in the unmarked police car.

"Do my parents know?" Carla said.

"Only what you heard me tell them," Jesse said.

Again the soft sound of the air-conditioning. Across the street the kids were back to hanging out, but most of them looked regularly over at the car.

"Who did it?" Carla said.

"Don't know," Jesse said. "We're still trying to identify the body."

"You're just a bunch of hick cops anyway," Carla said. "You'll never find out."

"Do you have a family dentist?" Jesse said.

"Of course."

"What's his name?"

"Dr. Levine. Why?"

"It might help us identify the victim," Jesse said.

"Can't you just use fingerprints?" Carla said.

"Do you know where Billie is?" Jesse said.

"No."

"When's the last time you saw her?"

Carla shrugged.

"When's the last time she was home?"

"They kicked her out right after school ended."

"Your mother and father kicked her out?"

"Yes."

"Because?"

"They said she was a druggie and a whore."

"Was she?"

Carla shrugged again.

"Did they tell you not to talk about it?"

Carla didn't answer. She was motionless, looking at her knees.

"What did they say, Carla?" Molly asked.

Carla answered without raising her eyes.

"They said there was only two of us now. Me and Emily."

Her voice was very small.

"Have you heard from her since she left?" Jesse said.

"No."

"How do you feel about all this?" Molly said.

Carla shrugged again, concentrating on her knees. "Billie messed up," she said.

"Are you scared you might mess up?" Molly said.

Carla didn't say anything. Molly took a card case from her shirt pocket, selected a card, and handed it to Carla.

"If you do mess up," Molly said, "you can call me. I'll help you."

Carla still didn't speak. But she took the card.

Chapter Eighteen

Lilly lived in a condominium apartment on the fifth floor in a vast sprawl of condominium apartments just off Route 1A behind a shopping mall near the Salem line. It was five minutes past seven when Jesse arrived at her door carrying a bottle of Iron Horse champagne. She was wearing faded blue jeans, carefully pressed, a white silk blouse with a stand-up collar, and short black boots with thick heels. The jeans were snug. The blouse was open at the neck and a gold chain showed against her light tan.

"Do you have a warrant?" Lilly said.

"No," Jesse said. "But I've got a bottle of champagne."

Lilly smiled.

"That will do," she said. "Come on in."

The apartment had white walls and blond furniture and sand-colored carpeting. There were sliders at the end of the living room that opened onto a small balcony that allowed you to look down at the back side of the shopping mall. The furniture was appropriate without being interesting.

"Don't judge me by my home," Lilly said. "I bought it after my second divorce, furniture and all, and moved in until I found something a little better."

"And?"

"And I haven't gotten around to looking."

"Too busy?" Jesse said.

"Do I have the right to an attorney?" Lilly said.

"Sorry. Sometimes I think I've asked too many questions for too long a time."

Lilly held out the champagne bottle.

"Shall we begin by drinking this?" she said.

Jesse hesitated. Club soda would be the right thing to drink. He took the bottle.

"We'd be fools not to," he said.

She got an ice bucket and glasses and set them on the glass-top coffee table. Jesse uncorked the wine and poured some in each glass. They clinked glasses and held each other's look for a moment and drank.

"I love champagne," Lilly said.

Jesse nodded.

"Actually," Lilly said, "I love having someone to drink it with."

"Lucky I stopped by," Jesse said.

"It wasn't luck. I invited you for di

"That's right."

They drank. Sip, Jesse told himself. Sip.

"I guess, if I had to be completely honest…" Lilly said.

"No need for that," Jesse said.

"I guess I'm still here for sort of the same reason. I guess I was hoping for someone to come along who would look for a new place with me."

"Would that include either ex-husband?"

"No," Lilly said. "It would not."

They were quiet, both thinking of other lives they had lived, other nights in twosomes with champagne. He could feel the charge between them. Simultaneous release and tension. Since he'd first been in her office he'd known it would come to this, and now it had. He felt the relaxation of arrival. Soon he'd see her naked. Soon there would be no tension.