The Bitterest Pill

Forty-four

At eight, before heading to Daisy’s for breakfast to discuss what he wanted to do at the high school, Jesse was at the stationhouse, talking to Molly.

“Peter have any luck yet with the Grimm kid’s computer?”

Molly shook her head. “None.”

“We probably won’t find anything on it, even if we get into it.”

“I’ve gone over his cell phone records,” Molly said. “Nothing there either. I checked the numbers in and out.”

Jesse took out his notepad and tore off a sheet. “Get the home and cell numbers for these kids and match them against Chris Grimm’s records. He was using prepaid phones, but when addicts are desperate, they don’t tend to follow the rules. My guess is some of their numbers will show up.”

Molly paled when she read the names on the list.

“My girls are on the field hockey team with Sara York and they’ve known Carl Bedell since they were little. We are in a supper club with the Bedells.”

Jesse hadn’t thought it through and realized he should have had someone else handle this aspect of the investigation.

“Molly, I can have Suit do this tonight.”

“No, Jesse, absolutely not. I can do my job. But are you sure about them?”

“I got their names from a reliable source.”

Molly was clearly upset, simultaneously angry and sad.

“But you can’t say anything to these kids or their parents, and definitely not to your girls. Not yet. We can’t compromise the investigation.”

Molly bit her bottom lip. “I understand.”

Jesse knew better than to ask again or to make Molly promise not to share the information or warn the kids’ parents. Molly didn’t frequently go ballistic, but when she did it was ugly, and Jesse was usually on the receiving end of her wrath. He moved on.

“I want you to go through the evidence from Chris Grimm’s room. Look for receipts from Quinn’s Self-Storage in the Swap. Also, see if you can find a key to a storage unit from Quinn’s. I don’t know if their units have their own locks or if the renters have to supply them. In any case, write up a search-warrant application for Quinn’s and leave the unit number out. I want it ready for when we get that info.”

Jesse rarely touched Molly, and when he did it was never in a manner that could be misperceived by anyone watching as even remotely romantic or sexual. It was the same when they were alone. They loved each other, deeply, in a way that would be hard for either one of them to explain or for anyone else to understand. From early on they understood that they were professionals and that the job was always the most important thing. Before heading to his office, Jesse put his hand on Molly’s shoulder and left it there for several seconds. They did not look at each other. No words passed between them, but Molly knew Jesse was acknowledging how difficult it was for her to be a mother, a wife, and a cop.

When the phone rang, Jesse lifted his hand from her shoulder and went into his office.