Killing the Blues (22 page)

Jesse sat in a bedside chair.

“Tell me again why you came to the house,” he said.

“I was in a forgiving mood,” she said.

“What if I wasn't,” Jesse said.

“I was hoping what I had planned for you might change that.”

“Which was?”

“The old roll-in-the-hay tactic.”

“Oh, that,” Jesse said.

“It's always worked before,” she said.

“Am I that easy?”

“I couldn't say. I never got the chance to find out,” Alexis said.

“But you did get to experience the exhilaration of lethal contact.”

“Don't tease me, Jesse. He would have killed you. He was insane.”

“I'm somewhat the cause of that,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“When I took him down in L.A., I brutalized him.”

“And now you're holding yourself responsible for his death,” she said.

“Maybe.”

“He murdered Steve Lesnick. He set me on fire. He was going to kill you, Jesse.”

Jesse didn't say anything.

“You can only do what you can do,” Alexis said. “You can't take responsibility for everything.”

“You think?”

“I know,” she said.

“Tell me about the old roll in the hay again,” he said.

“No.”

“No?”

“The doctor told me not to get excited.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“We?”

“For now,” she said, and closed her eyes.

J
esse had never thrown a party.

Daisy's had been hired to cater it. All of her servers were on hand to work it.

A bar had been set up on the front lawn, and one of Daisy's people was behind it, pouring drinks.

Two immense barbecues were across from the bar. Chicken, ribs, and burgers all sizzled over the hot coals. Massive trays of potato salad, coleslaw, and condiments stood at the ready.

A dessert bar offered different flavors of ice cream, as well as cupcakes, donuts, and pies. Platters of fresh fruit flanked the end of the table.

It was a glorious day. The weather couldn't have been more accommodating.

This is why we live in Paradise,
Jesse thought.

The party was Jesse's way of saying thank you to everyone who had contributed to the restoration of his home.

It only seemed as if every resident of Paradise had shown up. Jesse made every effort to be a gracious host. Molly had come early and had been there to greet the guests and point them in the direction of the food and drink. Once things were running smoothly, she came over and stood beside Jesse.

“Nice,” she said.

“Better than nice,” Jesse said.

“Have you tried the shrimp thingies?”

“Not yet.”

“Try them. I'm working on a scheme to squirrel dozens of them out of here without anyone noticing,” she said.

“Good luck with that,” Jesse said.

They stood, watching the crowd for a while.

“How's Alexis,” she said.

“Good now. The bandages are off, and she appears to be healing nicely.”

“Will she be here?”

“Doctor still wants her to rest.”

“Too bad. How are you,” she said.

“Better since I gave up hope.”

“Haven't I heard that line before,” she said.

“Are you suggesting that I'm repeating myself ?”

“Whatever gave you that idea,” she said.

Jesse didn't say anything.

“I hope you'll excuse me,” Molly said. “I gotta go see a man about some shrimp.”

She winked at him and made tracks for the food.

Jesse smiled.

The party was still going when it got dark. Jesse had grown tired of it.

He went inside to lie down, but the din of the party disturbed him. He phoned the station.

“Paradise Police Department,” the voice answered.

Jesse recognized it as belonging to Rich Bauer.

“There's too much noise coming from the Jesse Stone party,” Jesse said. “Can you send someone out to quiet things down?”

After a long moment, Bauer spoke.

“Jesse,” he said. “Is this you?”

Grinning, Jesse hung up the phone.

T
he sky was heavy on the Fourth of July. Rain threatened, but as the day wore on, the threat diminished. The festival went on as planned.

People kept pouring into the stadium. By late afternoon, there were close to twelve hundred people watching and listening to the music. People of all ages were there. Teenagers experiencing their first daylong concert. Sixty-somethings reliving their youth. Lots of tweeners.

Dancing was de rigueur.

Business at the concession stands was booming. Beer and wine were selling briskly.

Alexis was in her element. Fully recovered, she kept the show going with the brisk efficiency of a field marshal. Her team had been well prepared, and the concert went off with military precision.

She spotted Jesse standing amid a group of his officers. She wandered over and pulled him aside.

“This is amazing,” she said.

Jesse smiled.

“We even stand to make a fair sum of money. Uncle Carter is ecstatic.”

“You've done a good job. You should be proud,” Jesse said.

“Thank you, Jesse. Will I see you later?”

“Not likely. Suitcase is in charge. I'm gonna hang around a bit longer, then it's sayonara for me.”

“I'll call you,” she said.

She kissed his cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

Jesse strolled the grounds for a while. Summer was in full swing. The drama of spring was over. The tension had evaporated.

But at a price.

It was true he had set up John Lombardo. He had been aiming at him from the start. At the outset, he didn't know who he was, but he always knew what he was. He felt no remorse for what had occurred.

He thought about Rollo Nurse. He couldn't help but wonder whether he was responsible for all that Rollo had wrought. He recalled that night in L.A. Jesse was out of control, as Rollo had charged on the night that he died. Jesse had been drunk. He had transferred his rage at Jenn onto Rollo. Which carried a heavy emotional price tag. Despite Rollo's death, Jesse knew he still wasn't finished paying it off.

He looked around at the crowd. They were content to share food and comfort and mutual respect in a friendly and peaceful environment.

Jesse was happy for Alexis. This was indeed her success. A big step up the ladder of her choosing. He knew that in short order she'd be gone, climbing still higher on that ladder.

His reverie was interrupted by Robert Lopresti, who was calling his name.

When Jesse turned, Lopresti pointed to a pretty young woman who was sitting on a blanket along with two small children. He waved for Jesse to join them.

“This is Angie,” Lopresti said, introducing his wife to Jesse. “These are my children, Bobby Jr. and Lisette.”

“Lisette?”

“I didn't get to choose her name,” Robert said.

“You have a lovely family,” Jesse said.

“I got the job,” Robert said.

“I hope he's not making you intern.”

“Nah. He's paying me. A good wage, too.”

“Be sure to count it carefully,” Jesse said.

“I aim to do you proud, Jesse.”

“You already have.”

They said their good-byes, and Jesse found his way out of the stadium. He got into his cruiser and drove away.

I
t was still light when he got home.

He cracked a beer and strolled onto the porch. He sat down on the new love seat. He took a long pull on the beer, then nestled deep into the luxuriously comfortable pillows.

Mildred Memory poked her head through the rubber veil at the bottom of the door. She stepped out and padded her way to the love seat. She jumped onto Jesse's lap.

She turned around a couple of times, then, after repeatedly rubbing her chin against Jesse's cheek, she settled down and began to purr.

Jesse took another sip of beer.

He gently scratched Mildred Memory's neck.

She looked up at him, sleepy-eyed.

He smiled at her.

 

The author wishes to thank Joanna Miles, Melanie Mintz, Kim Kimball Holmquist, and Miles Brandman for their invaluable assistance in the development of this book.

Thanks also to Tom Distler for his wise and temperate counsel.

Thanks to David Parker and Daniel T. Parker.

A world of gratitude to Tom Selleck and the entire Jesse Stone movie universe for their inspiration and support.

A special thanks to Christine C. Pepe for her kindness, patience, and incredible editorial expertise.

The spirit, guidance, and generosity of Joan Parker meant the world to me.

And a special nod to Helen Brann, who grabbed my hand and never let go until we crossed the finish line.

ALSO BY ROBERT B. PARKER

 

Brimstone
Resolution
Appaloosa
Double Play
Gunman's Rhapsody
All Our Yesterdays
A Year at the Races
(with Joan H. Parker)
Perchance to Dream
Poodle Springs
(with Raymond Chandler)
Love and Glory
Wilderness
Three Weeks in Spring
(with Joan H. Parker)
Training with Weights
(with John R. Marsh)