Robert B. Parker’s Buried Secrets

Forty-Four

Jesse was still thinking about Dix’s last question as he walked out to his Explorer when his cell rang. Molly.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s Peter Perkins,” she said. “Jesse, it’s bad.”

Jesse never let his officers use the lights and sirens. They scared people, and they didn’t actually move traffic enough to make a difference in a town as small as Paradise.

But this time, he hit the lights and sirens and reached ninety on his way to the hospital.

Dr. Lowenthal was on call in the ER again. She spoke to Jesse calmly, professionally.

“The surgeon did everything he could,” she said. “Officer Perkins’s spleen ruptured from the impact of the blow. It caused a great deal of internal bleeding before he was found by a neighbor.”

Jesse looked down at the bed where Peter rested.

“I should have...” Jesse began. Then he stopped. He honestly didn’t know what he should have done.

But he should have done something. And done it better.

Dr. Lowenthal touched his arm. “I don’t think you would have gotten to him any sooner,” she said gently. “He couldn’t have been on his front step for more than twenty minutes or half an hour, at most.”

“Is he going to make it?”

“He’s an older man,” Dr. Lowenthal said. “There could be complications. But we’ve given him blood and repaired the damage. He’s got a good shot at a complete recovery.”

Jesse nodded and felt a weight lift from him.

“Okay,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll be here to monitor him all night. Call if you have any questions.”

“Thank you,” Jesse said again, and left the room.

Outside, in the hallway, Jesse saw Gary Armistead approaching with a bouquet of flowers.

“Jesse,” he said, looking solemn. “Terrible thing. I wanted to come by and pay my respects.”

“He’s not dead yet, Gary.”

“Of course. You know what I mean.”

Jesse looked past Armistead and down the hallway. Ty Bentley waited at the nurses’ station with a cameraman.

“Election in November, isn’t it?”

“I always care about the officers in my police department,” he said loudly. Armistead then leaned in and spoke quietly, only to Jesse.

“Which is more than you can probably say, isn’t it, Jesse? A veteran officer hurt by the guy you recruited. Such a shame. And on top of that riot outside Daisy’s. Which is a place you’re not allowed anymore.”

He smirked. “You’re having a real bad run lately, aren’t you, Chief Stone? Might be time for some new blood in the department.”

Jesse’s face was perfectly blank.

Armistead attempted to walk past him. Jesse grabbed his arm.

“About that,” Jesse said. “I’m not sure you’re any more qualified than I am to pick a new cop for the department. After all, you recommended Tate to me.”

Armistead flushed. He tried to pull his arm away. He couldn’t.

Jesse let it go.

“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying, Jesse.”

“I’m not implying. I’m asking. Why did you want me to hire Tate?”

Armistead made a face like he’d heard a bad joke. “Come on. You’ve been complaining about manpower since before I got this job. Now you’re going to complain I sent a candidate your way?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jesse said. “I’ve been asking for money for new hires for years, like you said. Then you fast-tracked Tate over to me. So why did you want this particular man in the department?”

“I saw this kid and I thought he’d fit in here in Paradise. Big-city training, like you, but younger. I was thinking of the future.”

“Were you?” Jesse asked.

“I do care about Paradise. No matter what you might think of me.”

“What do you mean he’d ‘fit in’?”

“What?”

“Fit in how? What would make him a good fit for Paradise?”

The mayor looked at Jesse with an expression like a dog trying to solve a math problem.

“I don’t understand.”

“I think you do.”

Armistead tried to wait Jesse out.

Jesse stood, blocking his way. He was far more comfortable with silence than the mayor was. Armistead couldn’t take it for longer than thirty seconds.

“You know why,” he said.

“I don’t.”

“Come on.”

Jesse said nothing.

Finally, Armistead made a little groaning noise and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Fine. He’s the kind of cop some of our older, more traditional residents would respect.”

“Because he’s white.”

Armistead sighed. “You going to make me say it? Sure. Yeah. He’s white.”

Just when he thought his opinion of Gary Armistead couldn’t sink any lower...

“Looks like we both picked a winner, Mr. Mayor.”

He stepped past Armistead.

Armistead laughed. Hard. It sounded a little forced, to be honest.

Jesse stopped. Looked at him.

“You find that funny?”

“No, I find you funny, Stone,” Armistead said. “You know what bothers me about you?”

“There’s just the one thing?”

Armistead made a face. “Aside from your questionable sense of humor, your hardass attitude, and your lack of respect, it’s the fact that you’re such a goddamn hypocrite.”

That genuinely surprised Jesse. He’d been called a lot of things, many of them less polite than the words on the mayor’s list. But “hypocrite” wasn’t one of them.

“How do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb. You and I both know you’ve done a bunch of shit worse than this kid. You bend the law whenever you damn well feel like it. You’ve hurt people. I’ve heard the stories. And I bet there’s even more out there that nobody knows about, because you’re smart enough to keep it quiet.”

Jesse didn’t respond to that. Didn’t feel the need to. He knew Armistead was just repeating rumors he’d heard without any solid facts. But it was all true. He’d hurt people. He’d taken the law into his own hands more than once.

Armistead took Jesse’s silence as an admission of guilt. He smiled. “So tell me, Chief Stone: What makes you so different than Tate?”

Jesse turned to leave again. He had better things to do. But he wasn’t about to let Armistead have the last word.

“He thinks what he does is right because he’s the one who does it,” Jesse said. “I do what I have to because it’s the right thing.”

“What’s the difference?” Armistead asked.

“If you don’t know, Gary, there’s no way I can tell you.”

Molly waited outside the entrance to the ER. She fell into step alongside Jesse as he walked out of the exit.

“Where the hell is Tate?” he asked.

“Suit is on his apartment. Gabe is out on the street looking for him. Nobody has seen him since he left the station.”

“We’re going to find him,” Jesse said.

“Bet your ass we are,” Molly said.