Robert B. Parker’s Buried Secrets

Twenty-Seven

Ellis Munroe was spending far too much time in Jesse’s office lately. From the look on the DA’s face, Jesse could see that he thought so, too.

“Goddamn it, Stone, what the hell were you thinking?”

Jesse stared hard at him. “Not today, Ellis. Not in my office. Have a seat and I’ll get you some coffee and we can discuss this like civilized people.”

Ellis fumed for a second, but he picked up on Jesse’s tone. He was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. He looked at Molly, who leaned against the wall, like a referee watching over a boxing match. She gestured to the chair.

Ellis sat down heavily.

“Isn’t that better?” Jesse said. “You want some coffee?”

“No, thank you,” Ellis said. “Now can we talk about the turd you just handed me?”

“I arrested a guy for assault. Surely you can handle that.”

“You dislocated the guy’s jaw,” Ellis said. “He’s in the ER right now having it reset.”

“He was going for a weapon.”

“A nonlethal self-defense device that is sold over the counter to women who walk their dogs in the park.”

“A little misogynistic there, Ellis,” Molly said.

“Sorry, Molly,” Ellis said. “Not my intention.”

“Bear spray,” Jesse said. “Two percent capsaicin. Made for bears. It says so right in the name. It causes temporary blindness, vomiting, and respiratory distress. We use that stuff on crowds. And he was swinging a sign like a club.”

Ellis waved a hand as if this was irrelevant. “He didn’t hit anyone.”

“He shouted, ‘I feel threatened,’ which is one of those idiot phrases they teach people to use to justify their actions before they shoot someone. So they can call it self-defense later.”

“Jesse’s right,” Molly said. “There are YouTube videos made just for guys like that. How to create a legal pretext for deadly force.”

“Yeah,” Ellis said grudgingly. “I’ve seen them.”

“That’s why I thought he was going for a gun. I didn’t know it was bear spray.”

Ellis sighed heavily, the front of his white button-down riding up his gut.

“Well, you got fast hands, I’ll give you that. He never had a chance,” Ellis said. “Would have been better if he’d actually had a gun.”

“Maybe I should have let him shoot someone, Ellis,” Jesse said. “Would that have helped?”

Molly gave him a look. Jesse ignored it.

“His pals already have a lawyer at my office,” Ellis said. “I will talk to him. Maybe drop the charges in exchange for a release of liability.”

“You’re going to let him go?” Jesse asked.

“You have nothing, Jesse,” Ellis said. “You don’t even have resisting arrest, because you nearly took his head off his shoulders and it’s all on video. He’s not going to look very dangerous, sitting on his ass on the pavement. I take this in front of a judge, I’m getting laughed out of the arraignment.”

Jesse stared at Ellis for a moment. He realized the DA was probably right. It didn’t help.

“Fine, Ellis.”

“We’ll be lucky to avoid a lawsuit.”

“I said fine.”

Ellis opened his mouth to say something else, but Molly shook her head quickly. Ellis got the message. He stood up.

“How’s Mr. Peebles holding up?” he asked.

“He’s still not talking,” Jesse said. “You want to let him go, too?”

“He’s the guy I want to charge, but you won’t let me, remember?”

“Let me do my job, and you do yours, okay?”

Ellis made a noise. “I’m not your enemy, Jesse. I am trying to work with you on all of this. Maybe stop and think before you sucker-punch someone next time.”

He walked out of the office, muttering to himself.

Molly went to the door and closed it, then turned back to Jesse.

“Okay,” she said. “What the hell?”

Jesse picked up his ball and glove and then remembered the burns on his hands. He flung them back to the desk, hard. “Not you, too, Crane.”

“Don’t you snarl at me,” Molly said. “I have known you too long for that shit, and I am pretty sure the bear spray is still around here somewhere.”

Jesse almost smiled at that, but clamped down on it. He knew he was angry, and he wanted to hang on to it for some reason.

“I am trying to figure out what’s wrong with you,” Molly said. “You’ve been angry and dismissive since you found Burton’s body.”

“I’d be fine if people let me do my goddamn job,” Jesse said.

“Really? Is that what you told Daisy?”

“Maybe Daisy needs to recognize that sometimes she doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about,” he said. “And neither do you.”

Molly looked at him. “Now, where did that come from? Why are you pushing me, Jesse?”

Jesse didn’t respond.

“The silent treatment, huh? Not going to work this time. You need to tell me what’s going on. Why are you so angry?”

Jesse took a deep breath, counted back from ten. “I am not angry.”

Molly snorted. “Well, that was convincing.”

“You want to talk about Tate? Okay. Here’s what happened. He’s new here. He overreacted a little. But Daisy shouldn’t get special treatment just because she’s my friend.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Some friend.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, is something wrong with your hearing? Is that the problem?”

“Look—”

“No, Jesse, you look. You know Daisy has the thickest skin of anyone in this town. She’s not a complainer. If she told you about this, she’s concerned. And you should listen to her. Because she loves this town and she doesn’t want to see anything hurt it.”

Jesse sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. He was rapidly losing patience. “Jesus, Molly. It was a misunderstanding.”

“You really think after all her time dealing with you and us that she would misread a situation so badly?”

“She’s a civilian.”

Molly stopped cold. Blinked at Jesse.

“ ‘A civilian’?” she said. “Are we at war, Jesse? Are we soldiers now? Is that why you cold-cocked that nitwit out there?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I think I do. And that’s the problem.”

Jesse sat back. “Then enlighten me. Because I don’t see it.”

“You were the one who told me: As soon as we start seeing our job as us versus them, something has gone badly wrong. We’re all supposed to be on the same side here, Jesse.”

“It doesn’t always work like that and you know it.”

“Maybe not in other places. But this is Paradise,” Molly said. “What kind of message do you think that sends the new guy? Is that how we do things here? We’re supposed to be better than that. You were the one who told me that, too.”

“Is this still about Tate?”

“I don’t know,” Molly said. “Is it? Are you cutting him slack because of your own history?”

Cheap shot, Jesse thought. Accurate, maybe, but cheap.

“I don’t need a shrink, Molly.”

“I think you do,” she said. “Because if you won’t talk to me, you better talk to somebody before it eats you up again.”

She turned her back on him, opened the door, and walked through, very pointedly not slamming it shut.

He had to admit, that was a perfect strikeout pitch. Way to close down the side.

Jesse turned in his chair and tried to calm down. He did the breathing exercises he’d been taught a long time ago. They didn’t work. He spun back around toward his desk.

And without thinking, he reached for the bottom desk drawer.

Opened it. Nothing there.

He stared. He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed.

Molly’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“What are you looking for, Jesse?”

He looked up and saw her standing at the door. She’d turned back and saw what he’d done.

Jesse withdrew his hand like the drawer was scalding hot. “I’m not sure.”

“Really?” Molly gave him a look like he was a teenager caught sneaking in after curfew. It annoyed Jesse. Mainly because he knew he’d just lied to her.

Jesse took a deep breath. Let it out. Honesty, he reminded himself. Drunks lie. Honesty is an alcoholic’s kryptonite.

“I was about to reach for the bottle,” he said.

“I know.”

“It’s not there. And I reached for it anyway.”

“I know that, too.”

Molly came into the office and closed the door behind her again.

She sat down.

“Jesse,” she said, looking directly into his eyes. “You worked really hard to let go of that bottle. I know what it cost you. I was there. So if you’re reaching for it again...”

She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to.

Jesse took a deep breath, tried to stay calm. Even. She was acting as his friend here.

“This shouldn’t be a big deal,” he said.

“You think?” Molly asked. “I told you what Suit and I would do if you started drinking again. Seems pretty big to me.”

“Not what I meant,” he said. “I thought it was under control. Hell, Molly, I’ve been in worse situations than this and I never once felt the need.”

“Not once?”

“You know what I mean. I’ve been under more pressure. I don’t know why this is different.”

Now he could admit it, at least to himself. This whole thing — the dead body, Daisy, Tate — it was piling on him. He could see the Scotch and the soda over ice in the glass. He could feel the burn in his throat as he pulled straight from the bottle.

He really wanted nothing more than a drink.

And he didn’t know why.

That bothered him.

“You don’t get to decide how much some things affect you,” Molly said. “Sometimes you have to just take the punch. You taught me that.”

“Yeah, but—”

Molly smirked a little and cut him off. “Yeah, but you’re different? The great Jesse Stone is above all that? You can do it yourself? Bullshit. We’re not doing this again. So maybe instead of carrying this around and acting like an asshole to everyone, you start dealing with whatever’s bothering you.”

Jesse nodded. He’d given his word. He said he’d never put Molly, or Suit, or Paradise through his problems again.

“You’re right,” he said.

“I’m always right.”

Molly reached across the desk and briefly put her hand on his.

“Now call Dix,” she said. “He gets paid for this and I’ve been giving it away for free.”

“Yeah, that’s what—”

“Don’t,” Molly warned.

She got up to go.

“Sure you don’t want to place the call for me?” he asked.

“You know how the phone works,” Molly said, and closed the door behind her.

Right. She trusted him to do it himself.

Jesse picked up the phone and dialed.

He’d given his word. Sometimes he’d rather get shot again, but he had to admit it.

Whatever was going on inside his head, he needed some help.