Robert B. Parker’s The Devil Wins

56

Tamara Elkin reached over Jesse to fill his wineglass. Jesse was glad he had a friend like Tamara, someone to talk to if he wanted to talk. It wasn’t all roses. He knew that at least for a little while yet there would be tension between them, that Tamara would want to move beyond friends and that he, too, would have to fight the temptation to move in that direction. If she kept coming over and they kept hanging out and drinking together, that temptation was bound to get stronger.

Tamara liked a lot about Jesse. For one thing, he was sure of himself. He didn’t need the constant reassurance that most men seemed to require. So many men she had known were still little boys who were interested either in themselves or in trying to re-create that one someone they had lost in high school. Jesse was in the moment. She cringed at thinking those words, but there it was. Another thing she liked about him was that he wasn’t a talker. No fishing for compliments for him. But the truth was she was attracted to him and didn’t know how much longer she could play the role of Tonto to his Lone Ranger.

“Cheers,” she said, lifting her glass.

“Cheers.”

He sipped, staring out into space and seeming to lose himself in the music playing on his stereo. She wasn’t much for jazz, but she understood how someone who liked it could get lost in it. She sat down on the couch, staring at him staring into space. She ascribed it to him zoning out to escape from the pressure he’d been under and wondered if now was the right moment to revisit a discussion of their friendship. She opened her mouth to say it, but those weren’t the words that came out.

“I heard about the fires in Paradise today.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What do you think it means, both of the dead girls’ houses being torched like that?”

That got Jesse’s attention. “Torched? Who said anything about arson?”

“Come on, Jesse. I am the ME. I hear things.”

He nodded. “They were torched, all right. What does it mean? Means my misinformation’s got someone worried.”

“You might say you lit a fire under someone’s ass.”

He laughed. “No, you might say that. I never would.”

“Puns beneath you?”

“No, Doc, just bad ones.”

Tamara said, “You have an idea who you upset?”

“I thought I did, but the suspect had an alibi. Guy always seems to have an alibi.”

“Can’t you shoot holes in it?”

“The alibi? Not this one,” he said. “He was under police surveillance while the fires were being lit.”

“Bummer.” Fortified by her wine, Tamara decided now was as good a time as any to broach the subject of the nature of their friendship. “Listen, Jesse, I—”

He raised his hand to cut her off and reached into his pocket for his phone. He waved the phone at her. “I better get this. Jesse Stone,” he said without checking the screen.

“Jesse, are you all right?” It was Jenn.

He sat up straight, tensed.

Tamara mouthed, “Who is it?” He shook his head.

Jenn asked, “Jesse, is something wrong? You’re breathing funny.”

“I was just relaxing. I’m fine, Jenn.” He emphasized the name so Tamara would understand. He stood up and lowered the stereo.

“No you’re not,” Jenn said. “I’ve seen all the stuff on TV. I read the papers.”

“You know me. I’ll be okay.”

“You say that.”

Tamara Elkin walked out of Jesse’s living room and began clearing the dishes off the dining room table and tossing the cartons away from their takeout dinner.

“Why are you calling, Jenn?”

“Because of what you’re going through. Just because we’re not together anymore doesn’t mean—”

“Cut it out,” he said. “We haven’t spoken since last spring and then you call in the middle of the evening out of the blue.”

“What time is it there?” she said, innocent as a lamb. “It’s not that late, and why shouldn’t I call to see how you are?”

Jesse recognized the pattern. When Jenn called him like this, it meant she was in trouble or was feeling needy.

“I’m not doing this anymore, Jenn. I thought we had an understanding.”

The dishwasher came on in Jesse’s kitchen and Tamara came back into the living room. She poured herself another glass of wine. Jesse shrugged his shoulders at her as Jenn talked into his ear about how he was wrong about her and how it was different now. He held up his left hand to Tamara and showed her two fingers. He mouthed, “Two minutes.” But she made a face at him and left the room. Ten minutes later, he heard the front door slam. Twenty minutes after that he realized he was still on the phone with Jenn.