Robert B. Parker’s Fallout

Seventy-Four

The crowd was beginning to disperse as Jesse walked Hillary More back to the station. Fishman and Morello said it might be a couple hours before it was safe enough to begin sifting through the rubble, but that they would call when, and if, they found any kind of evidence of how the fire had started. Jesse told Gabe and Suit to stay with them, telling Molly she could try to go get some sleep, it was going to be a long goddamn day.

“I always knew he liked her best,” Gabe said to Suit.

Nellie had tried to get a comment from Jesse and Hillary as they were leaving.

“Not now,” Jesse said.

“Wasn’t asking you, Chief Stone,” she said.

“Must have heard you wrong,” Jesse said, and walked Hillary through what was left of the crowd and back down Main Street to the station.

Then it was just Jesse and Hillary in his office, the sun still not up. No more sirens now. But Jesse could still smell the smoke, even in here.

“I can’t do this right now, Jesse,” Hillary said. “I need some space and some time to process this.”

“We actually are going to do this right now,” Jesse said, making it sound as if she had no choice, even though she did. “There are things we need to discuss, and there is no point in putting them off.”

She said she had gotten a call from one of her top managers and driven up from Boston. Jesse didn’t ask her where she’d been. He knew where she had been.

Due time.

She sat back in her chair, resigned if not relaxed.

“My face must be a fright.”

“It’s not.”

“Thank you for that, at least.”

He asked if she wanted something to drink. She said no, let’s get this over with.

“You said ‘He did this,’ ” Jesse said. “Who’s ‘he’?”

“You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said. “Maybe you already have.”

Jesse waited.

Nobody better at waiting.

“Liam Roarke,” she said.

“Why would Liam Roarke burn down your company?” Jesse asked her. “The part of it that’s here, anyway.”

He tried to read her face and could not. In the moment, he believed that what she was really trying to process wasn’t just the fire down the street, but how much to tell him. And how much he knew.

“It’s not my company,” she said.

Boom.

“It’s his,” she said.

Hillary More paused and then said, “Or was.”