Robert B. Parker’s The Devil Wins

11

In his capacity as police chief of the Paradise PD and as the catching detective on cases for the LAPD’s Robbery-Homicide Division, Jesse Stone had done this sad Kabuki dozens of times. Sometimes he was forced to do it over the phone. More frequently, he performed the soul-crushing duty in person. Today it would be done face-to-face with Molly Crane at his side.

The O’Hara house wasn’t much. Like many of the older homes in that part of Paradise, it had started out as a simple, cedar-shingled cottage. Then, over the decades, rooms and dormers had been added to meet the owners’ needs or whims. The O’Hara place, with its split shingles gone almost black with age and a garage sagging with snow and neglect, was the poor relation on the street. The kind of place the old neighbors shook their heads at in pity and new neighbors shook their heads at in contempt.

Jesse, riding shotgun, flung open the cruiser door but didn’t get out of the cruiser.

“How long since you’ve been here, Molly?”

“Feels like forever.”

“You sure you’re up for this?”

Her jaw clenched. “No, I’m not sure, but I have to be here with you. It’s the right thing to do.”

“For the O’Haras or for you?”

“Both.”

Jesse had no intention of arguing with her. Of course Molly was here because she felt it was right. He sensed it was more than that. Way more. Guilt probably only a fraction of it. They got out of the cruiser. Molly came around and stood by Jesse.

“Both parents still alive?” Jesse asked.

“I think so. I know her mom is. Mary Kate’s parents split up about a year after she went missing. Mr. O’Hara, Mary Kate’s dad, couldn’t take staying here, being surrounded by reminders of his favorite girl. My mom told me he felt like he was drowning. Mom said she didn’t blame him for leaving. I don’t think anyone did. He was a great guy, Mr. O’Hara. We used to call him Johnny. He’d pile all of us girls into his big old station wagon with the fake wood on the sides and take us to the park or to the beach. He taught us how to play ball and catch frogs. How to fish. We all loved Johnny.”

There she is again, Jesse thought. Young Molly. There was something so happy and pure about her joy in speaking about the past, he couldn’t help wishing he had known her then.

“Johnny sounds like a pretty friendly guy,” Jesse said. “Ever get too friendly?”

Molly tilted her head in confusion, stepped away from him. “What?”

“Man surrounds himself with a bunch of pretty young girls. Spends a lot of time with them—”

“Johnny was a good man. He never did anything inappropriate with us.”

“No hugs that lasted a little too long? No pats on your ass when you got a hit? No special time or attention paid to any of you girls?”

“Nothing like that.”

“And Mary Kate, did she ever say anything about—”

Molly turned to Jesse, her face red with anger. “Nothing.”

“Sorry, Molly, but we have to know what we have to know.”

“I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it,” she said. “Without obvious suspects, we work from the family out.”

“The mom stayed.”

“Yeah, Tess — that’s Mary Kate’s mom — she stayed. Like Johnny couldn’t stay, Tess couldn’t leave.”

“Happens all the time,” Jesse said.

“What does?”

“Tragedy.”

“What about it, Jesse?”

“Blows families apart.”

“Or brings them closer together,” Molly said.

“Uh-huh. Tell me about the mother.”

“Tess, right. She was quieter than Johnny. More religious. I think Johnny would’ve been fine with his kids going to public school, but Tess wouldn’t stand for that. She used to go to Mass every morning and volunteered at the church. But she was — is, I guess — a very sweet person. I haven’t seen her in years. She was always nice to us, too. Just not in an outgoing way like Johnny was.”

“So Mary Kate was more like Johnny?” Jesse asked.

Molly nodded. “She was just like her dad,” she said. “She even looked like him. Her sisters were like their mom, in looks and temperament.”

As they took the short walk up to the front door, Molly nodded at a street-facing window on the second floor.

“See that, Jesse?”

“Electric candle in the window? Hard to miss.”

“That was Mary Kate’s room. I guess Tess was hoping Mary Kate would come home someday.”

Jesse shook his head. “Turns out she never really left.”