Robert B. Parker’s Fallout

Forty-Six

In Jesse’s office the next morning Molly told Jesse about Hillary More being Hal Fortin’s dinner date. Just then, the woman herself showed up, unannounced.

“What are the odds?” Molly said, then promptly excused herself, grabbing a donut out of the mixed Dunkin’ box Jesse had brought for everybody before she left.

Hillary More was clearly dressed for work. Black pantsuit, white shirt underneath. Black leather sneakers with white soles. More and more, Jesse noticed that both men and women were wearing sneakers to work, not that he really gave a shit.

“We need to talk,” Hillary said in what passed for a greeting, taking one of the visitor chairs.

“I agree,” Jesse said. “You first.”

“You were out of line yesterday,” she said.

“Par for the course with me, some would say.”

“You know I like you, Jesse. You do know that, right?”

Jesse resisted the impulse to tell her that if there were life on Mars, they knew that Hillary More liked him.

“I thought that went without saying” is what he did say.

“But what I do not like, not even a little bit, is you showing up at my house and trying to intimidate my son.”

“Not my intent,” he said. “Also not what I did.”

He opened the box of donuts. “Help yourself, by the way.”

“Are you trying to be funny?”

“Not when the subject is Dunkin’ Donuts,” he said.

“No, thank you.”

“Your loss. I got extra Boston Kremes.”

Hillary gave an exasperated shake of her head. “Kevin felt as if you treated him like some sort of suspect.”

Jesse sipped some of the large coffee he’d brought with him, first of the day until he made some of his own.

“Hillary,” he said, “we’re going to have this conversation, the two of us, just this one time and never have it again. I’m going to give you a pass, just this one time, on your showing up in my office and trying to tell me how to do my job. Because I also like you, and I’ve clearly annoyed you. But I had legitimate questions to ask your son about Jack Carlisle. I asked them. I left. No harm, no foul.”

“Says you.”

“He paid a visit to Jack’s room after Jack’s death. Maybe you knew that, maybe you didn’t, not my concern, or my problem. I wanted to know what he was doing there. I asked. He told me. End of story, at least for now.”

“It’s Kevin’s feeling that you didn’t believe him.”

“Also not my problem. But I am sorry if he felt that way.”

“Are you?”

This wasn’t flirtatious Hillary now. This was the boss lady, in high gear. If not on fire, getting there.

“You could have given me the courtesy of a heads-up,” she said.

“And granted you the consideration we haven’t granted to other parents in the course of this investigation?”

He pointed at the donut box again. “Are you sure you don’t want one before the rest of my staff attacks what’s left in that box like a pack of hungry dogs? Donuts always take the edge right off for me.”

“Perhaps another time,” she said. “Will you at least assure me that you’re done upsetting my son?”

“No, I won’t make that assurance,” Jesse said. “And by the way? He’s a man now, Hillary, not a boy. I am genuinely sorry if I did upset him. And you. And if you have to apologize to his father for me, apologize to him.”

“His father died a long time ago.”

That stopped him.

“I’m sorry for that, too.”

She pulled up the sleeve of her jacket, checked her Apple Watch.

“I need to get to work,” she said.

“Work can wait for a few more minutes.”

“I have a meeting.”

“Meeting can wait,” Jesse said. “We’re not done talking.”

“I am.”

“I will be,” he said, “when you explain to me why you neglected to mention that Steve Marin, wherever he is, happens to be a Mobbed-up ex-con.”

“Because he’s not.”

“Bet you the whole box of donuts that he is,” Jesse said.