Robert B. Parker’s Fallout

Six

Jesse and Molly sat with Scott Ford in Jesse’s office. Jesse had asked the kid if he wanted one of his parents present, or both of them. He’d said no, his father would only find a way to make things worse than they already were, if that was even possible.

“I’ll tell them later,” Ford said.

“They know about the fight?” Jesse said.

“I’ll tell them that later, too,” he said. “I slept at Kenny’s house last night. Our pitcher. The one smart-mouthing you in the gym.”

“I know who he is,” Jesse said.

Suit was still at his sister’s house. Thank heaven, Jesse thought, for small favors. Not that he was feeling particularly religious today. This wasn’t the first time he’d fantasized about getting God into an interrogation room and shining a light in His face and asking Him to explain shit like Jack Carlisle ending up dead in the water, and why He generally kept acting so pissed off at the world.

Ford sat on the other side of Jesse’s desk, big hands in his lap. He’d taken off the sunglasses. The purple around his eye seemed to have darkened just since they left the gym, the bruise spreading. Jesse also noticed the swelling in his right hand. The kid looked tired and hungover and sad. And scared being in the office of the chief of police. The only thing he’d said to Jesse on the ride over here was “Are you going to arrest me?”

“Should I?” Jesse said.

“It was just a dumb fight,” Ford had said, “over nothing.”

Then he had started to cry for real.

In the office now, Molly asked if Ford wanted coffee.

“Hot?” he said.

“All we got,” she said.

“No.”

“No, thank you,” Jesse said.

The kid shifted his attention to Jesse.

“What?”

“What you meant to say to Deputy Chief Crane,” Jesse said, “was ‘No, thank you.’ ”

Oh,” Ford said. “No, thank you.”

“What was the fight about?” Jesse said.

“Like I told you,” Ford said, “it was really about nothing.”

“Scott,” Jesse said in a soft, good-cop voice. “Let’s not either one of us fuck around here, okay?”

The kid leaned back and stared at the ceiling with one good eye. His sunglasses were in front of him on Jesse’s desk.

“Why are we even doing this?” Ford said. “I didn’t knock him into the water. We were nowhere near the water when we got into it.”

“I’m just trying to figure out how he ended up in the water,” Jesse said.

“He was my teammate!” Ford said. “He was my friend!”

“You ever have a fistfight with your friend before?” Jesse said.

“We got into it a few times,” Ford said. “My mom calls it dumb young-guy stuff.”

“Not exactly what Chief Stone asked you, Scott,” Molly said.

She always knew when to come in, shift the focus of the person being asked the questions. Like a pitcher changing a batter’s eye angle by moving the ball up and down, in and out.

“Chief Stone asked if you and Jack ever got into a fistfight before,” Molly said.

Ford was staring down at his big ballplayer’s hands again.

“No,” he said. “This was the first time.”

But he hesitated, just slightly, before answering.

“So what was it about?” Jesse said.

“He’d had too much beer and I’d had too much beer and he accused me of something I didn’t do,” Ford said.

“What would that be?” Molly said.

“Messing around with his girlfriend behind his back.”

He gave them a name. Ainsley Walsh. Said he’d never do anything like that, you never did that with a friend. Told them again that it wasn’t anywhere near the water and that he walked back to where the other guys were and Jack had walked off in another direction.

“Toward the water?” Jesse said.

“I didn’t even look,” Ford said. “I just wanted to get some ice. And get away from him.”

He looked up. Red eyes. Jesse thought he might cry again.

“It was the last time I saw him,” he said.

He slumped into the chair, seeming to collapse inside himself. Jesse could see him starting to shut down. Finally told him he could go, but might circle back later. Asked if Ford wanted a ride back to school. Scott Ford said he’d rather walk.

When the kid got to the door, he remembered he didn’t have his sunglasses, came back for them, put them back on.

“Sorry about your friend,” Jesse said.

Scott Ford said, “Not as sorry as I am.”

Less than a minute later, Jesse heard the shouting from the squad room.

When he came through the door he saw that Suit had Scott Ford up against a wall.