Robert B. Parker’s Damned If You Do

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Jesse was in his office, staring out the window and sipping his coffee, when Molly walked in and sat down.

“Why so glum,” she said.

“Personal.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Something to do with what happened last night?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess,” she said. “Did it have anything to do with Clarice Edgerson?”

Jesse shrugged.

“I knew it,” Molly said.

“We were friends.”

“Newly made friends.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll get over it.”

He looked at her.

“You will,” she said. “Try not to make more of it than it was. Just because she’s gone.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“Try looking at it from a different perspective,” she said.

“Meaning?”

“You hardly knew this woman. Despite the fact that you and she had become so-called pals. Her story had a whole lot of pages in it about which you had no idea. I know you, Jesse. You have a tendency to overromanticize things. Don’t magnify this. I’m sure she was a lovely person. I’m sure you and she were en route to becoming fast friends. I’m sure you’re greatly saddened by her death. But you’ll get over it. Just try not to overreact is all I’m saying.”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“Did it ever cross your mind that perhaps they were using you?”

He looked at her.

“Since when did you become so wise,” he said.

“I’ve always been wise,” she said. “It’s just that some people around here never noticed.”

With that, she stood and walked to the door. Once there, she turned back to him.

“What, no donut,” she said.

“I didn’t feel like one.”

“Do you feel like one now?”

“Are you offering to bring me one?”

“As long as I don’t have to touch it too much,” she said.

“A donut might be nice.”

“And maybe some hot coffee?”

“Maybe.”

She smiled at him and headed for the coffee stand.