Robert B. Parker’s Damned If You Do

2

Jesse was in his office, talking on the phone with Captain Healy.

“I’m drawing blanks,” Healy said. “I got nothin’.”

“Prints?”

“She doesn’t appear to be in the system.”

“Car?”

“Stolen. In Boston. Six months ago. Plates were lifted from a vehicle in Framingham.”

“Missing persons?”

“One or two possibles that turned out to be duds. She’s a Jane Doe, Jesse, and likely to remain one. My guys are rousting the pimps and making inquiries everywhere. Early results suggest she was an independent.”

“No leads regarding the john?”

“None. No one saw anything. No one heard anything. Guy probably parked off-site and hoofed it. So as to avoid being IDed.”

“I’ll sniff around up here,” Jesse said.

“I’m checking schools, apartments, anything that might be relevant, but this one feels like a dead end.”

“You’ll let me know if you find anything?”

“I will. But I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you,” Healy said, and ended the call.

Jesse slowly returned the receiver to its cradle. He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that he had seen the dead girl before.

“Is it possible that I knew her,” he mused.

He couldn’t come up with the answer.

He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his cold coffee.

“Molly,” he said.

“No,” she said, calling out from her desk.

“No what?”

“Get your own.”

“How did you know what I was going to ask?”

“I know.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

She got up and walked into his office.

“You think I was born yesterday,” she said. “You think I don’t know that your coffee’s cold?”

“So?”

“So I made fresh.”

“I know. I can smell it.”

They looked at each other for a while. Neither of them made a move.

Jesse then stood and went for the coffeemaker. Once there, he poured himself a fresh cup and grabbed the last remaining donut from the box. He returned to his office to find Molly seated in the chair opposite his desk.

“Thanks,” he said.

“My pleasure. I see you couldn’t resist the stale donut.”

“A donut is a donut. Stale doesn’t necessarily mean bad.”

“Certainly not in your case.”

“Was there something you wanted, Molly?”

Jesse dunked the donut in his coffee and took a rather large bite of it. Molly sat watching him. Finally she said, “I think you should know that Donnie Jacobs has gone missing. He wandered out last night and never came back.”

“Anyone try to find him?”

“The security guards at the home had a shot at it.”

“A bunch of morons,” Jesse said.

“Needless to say, they didn’t find him.”

Jesse dunked his donut again and then finished it.

“Want me to run up to Winkie’s and get you another box,” she said.

“Would you?”

“Not in this lifetime.”

Jesse looked at her.

Then he said, “I think I know where to find him.”

“I had a feeling you might.”