Robert B. Parker’s The Devil Wins

23

Jesse rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and rolled out of bed. He threw on some clothes because Tamara Elkin had spent the night in the guest bedroom. She hadn’t wanted to drive home after all the drinking they’d done. Jesse was fine with that and he figured the ME was also testing his resolve on the friendship front. So far, so good. He’d managed to keep to his own bed and she to hers.

When he knocked at the guest room door there was no answer. Thinking Tamara might still be asleep, Jesse stepped in to wake her up. But there, reflected in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door, was Tamara Elkin, nude as the day she was born, her slender, muscular body damp and shining, her curly hair somewhat tamed by water. Without the curls, her hair stretched almost to her mid-back.

“Whoa! Sorry,” he said, and backed out of the room.

She followed him out a few seconds later, a towel wrapped around her body.

“Don’t apologize, Jesse. I didn’t plan it, but I guess I wouldn’t have minded if you closed the bedroom door behind you instead of going back through it.”

“Like I said, under different circumstances...”

“Right. This woman of yours—”

“Diana.”

“Diana must be something special.”

Jesse winked. “She would have to be.”

“That’s a lovely thing to say. Give me ten minutes and I’ll come downstairs and cook us some breakfast.”

She was good to her word. Ten minutes later Tamara Elkin was standing in Jesse’s kitchen. She was dressed, her hair still damp, her face made up, though she didn’t use a whole lot of cosmetics. She didn’t have to and it wouldn’t have suited her, Jesse thought.

“What do you like for breakfast?” she asked, her head scanning from side to side, studying the layout.

“Scrambled eggs. Hash browns. Toast. Orange juice. Coffee. A donut, too, if one’s around.”

“For goodness’ sakes, Jesse Stone, how do you stay in shape eating like that?”

“You asked me what I like for breakfast, not what I eat. Two different things.”

Tamara didn’t say anything, but Jesse could tell she was making a mental note. She would be more careful in the future about the questions she asked him and how she asked them.

“How about some eggs, then? I make a wicked morning-after omelet.”

Jesse took the bait. “Morning after what?”

“Morning after a bottle of scotch.”

He laughed. “Sure.”

“Thank you, Jesse,” she said.

“For what?”

“It’s been lonely for me here. Really lonely.”

“I’ve been kind of alone my whole life,” he said. “No matter where I’ve been or who I’ve been with.”

“I can see that, but alone and lonely are different.”

He nodded.

Before either one of them could speak again and just as Tamara was reaching into the fridge for the eggs, Jesse’s house phone rang. His cell phone buzzed, too. Tamara Elkin held up her cell to show Jesse she was also getting a call.

Jesse picked up his cordless house phone and walked into the living room. Tamara picked up her phone.

“Jesse Stone,” he said.

“We got trouble, Jesse.” It was Suit.

“What kind?”

“Jogger found a woman’s body at the foot of the Bluffs by Paradise Dunes Road.”

“ID?”

“She didn’t have any on her, but she’s blond and she’s wearing a full-length fur coat.”

“Maxie Connolly,” Jesse said in a whisper.

“You think it’s a suicide?”

“We don’t even know it’s her yet. Who’s down there with her?”

“Peter Perkins. I alerted the ME’s office, too.”

“Good work, Suit. Call Healy and give him the heads-up. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Jesse hung up. Picked up his cell phone and saw that there was a voice mail from Peter Perkins.

He sent a text of his own to Stu Cromwell, then stepped back into the kitchen.

“What was the call about?” she asked.

“Treed cat.”

She shook her head. “Not a dead blonde at the base of the Bluffs?”

“My mistake. Yeah, a dead woman.”

“Any idea who it is?”

“Pretty good idea.”

“Want to share.”

“I think it’s better if I don’t.”

“Okay, you’re probably right,” she said.

“Get used to that, Doc.”

She looked confused. “Used to what?”

He gave her a half-smile. “To me being right about things.”