He slammed on his brakes and jumped out of his Explorer, unholstering his nine-millimeter as he approached Tamara’s Wrangler. He checked the vehicle for bullet holes or any other signs of violence. Finding none, he tapped the muzzle of his weapon against the driver’s-side window. Tamara stirred immediately and the sleepy look of confusion on her face was quickly replaced by a smile, but the smile was just as quickly replaced by something else. Maybe because he was so tired himself, Jesse couldn’t decipher the full meaning of Tamara’s expression. Whatever her look’s deeper meaning, Jesse could tell it wasn’t good.
She rolled down her window. “Hi, Jesse. Sorry if I scared you.”
“Have you been crying? Your mascara is—”
“I’ll be in in a minute.”
He knew better than to argue. “I know we’re not supposed to be drinking together, but you look like you could use a—”
She didn’t let him finish. “Make it a double, one cube.”
Jesse left the door opened behind him, kicked off his shoes, put the evidence bag containing the envelope down on the kitchen table, and headed straight to the bar. He waved a finger of hello at Ozzie Smith, then poured her drink. He hesitated, but also made one for himself, light on Black Label and heavy on soda. He made Tamara’s as she prescribed, a lot of scotch and more scotch with a single lonely ice cube.
When Tamara came in, it was obvious to Jesse that she’d fixed her makeup in the car. The streaks of mascara were gone from her cheeks and her fresh coat of lipstick shone in the light, but the makeup could do nothing to hide her red-rimmed eyes. He thought about hugging her, but he knew enough to do this her way and handed her the drink instead. She didn’t even make a weak attempt at a toast or raise her glass except to drink. And drink she did. When she was done, Jesse took the glass from her.
“Another?”
“Less scotch, more ice, but yeah, another.”
After polishing off half of her second Black Label, Tamara said, “Jesse, there’s something... We need to talk.”
He took a small swallow of his drink, put the glass down, and sat on his leather sofa.
“Okay, let’s talk.”
“First,” she said, “I need a hug. I need to be held a little.”
He pulled his right arm back, waving for her to come to him with his left hand. She sat down next to him and placed her head in his lap. Jesse ran his fingers through her impossible tangle of brown curls. It was very intimate, but there was nothing sexual about it.
“I had a date when I was a kid,” he said, breaking the silence. “Was going pretty well, I thought. But when we were in her living room alone staring at each other, I reached out and stroked her hair. That did it. She made a face at me and she complained she wasn’t a golden retriever and didn’t feel like being petted.”
Tamara laughed. It was a kind of shrill, manic laugh, not her usual deep laugh.
“What is it?” he asked when she calmed down. “What’s wrong?”
“I got offered a job with the Travis County Medical Examiner’s Office. Travis County. That’s Austin, Texas.”
“When would you have to leave? Are you going to take it?”
She sat up, stared him in the eyes. “Do you want me to — I mean, do you think I should? I’d start after Labor Day. It means I’d have to give notice now and leave next month.”
“Is it a step up?”
“Of course it is. You know why I took the job here, because of the mess in New York.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Uh-huh! Is that all you’re going to say?”
“Uh-huh.”
She punched him in the arm. “Damn you, Jesse Stone.”
He smiled, then asked, “Why would you take it?”
“The pay is higher. The taxes are lower. The weather’s better. It’d be more of a challenge. My folks are still down there and they’re not getting any younger.”
“Sounds to me like you’ve made a pretty airtight case for taking the job.”
She sat up, kissed him softly on the cheek, paused. “That’s why I’m here, stupid.”
“How’s that?”
“To let you talk me out of it,” she said. “Or to make me hesitate a little.”
“Your decision, Doc.”
“At least tell me you’ll miss me.”
“You know I will. I miss you already.”
“That’s better,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “Tell me more.”
63
Tamara was gone by the time he woke up. Soon she would be gone for good. Another woman out of his life forever. He didn’t want to think about that.
It had all been a desperate evening, sad, but with some laughs, too. They hadn’t known each other all that long, yet they’d been through a lot together. In spite of their protestations about friendship and no commitments, they’d fallen a little bit in love with each other. How could they not? They were both such loners by nature and temperament, so willing to accept the limitations they each imposed on the relationship, there was an inevitability to love. Yet neither one of them would make the first move toward the bedroom. The time for that, if there had ever been one, had passed. Their love was built on friendship. It was an easy kind of love, short on expectations and long on comfort.
In the shower, Jesse’s thoughts turned away from Tamara’s pending departure to the events of the previous day. He couldn’t get the sonnet out of his head. In death’s black-lined womb I seek her grace. The mirror has revealed my hangman’s face. And with the sonnet in play, it probably wouldn’t be long before word of the missing tape would become public. Once that happened, there would be no controlling what followed. There was no way to get ahead of, around, or over what was headed his way. Maybe, he thought, the best thing to do was to run straight for it.
Jesse had lathered up half his face when the doorbell rang. His cell was on the vanity to his right. He checked it to make sure he hadn’t missed calls from the station while he was in the shower. The last thing he needed was for Molly and Alisha to show up at his door again. No calls. He wiped the shaving cream off his face, threw on his old Dodgers shorts, and headed down the stairs. Probably Tamara, he thought, reaching for the doorknob. Although he was confident she was going to take the job in Austin, she hadn’t said as much. She probably wanted to come over and get that on the record or give him another chance to talk her out of it. He hadn’t done a very good job of discouraging her last night.
There was a woman standing on the other side of the door, but it wasn’t Tamara Elkin. Bella Lawton smiled her electric smile at Jesse, and while she had on more clothing than she’d worn the other day by the pool, she was no less attractive. She was dressed in a sheer midriff-baring blouse that left almost nothing for Jesse’s imagination to work with. She wore tight white shorts that were similarly stingy and open-toed shoes with chunky heels. Chunky or not, the heels somehow managed to exaggerate the perfect shape and flawless tan of her legs. And even from where he stood, Jesse could smell the raw scent of Bella’s perfume, all crushed herbs with undertones of patchouli and citrus.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Chief — Jesse?”