The Bitterest Pill

Forty-seven

She stood close to Petra in a darkened classroom. She stroked the girl’s hair, her cheek.

“Shhh... Shhh, lover. Calm down. Calm down. The police left an hour ago. They’re gone, honey. Everything will be all right, I promise.”

But the girl was so scared her whole body was shaking. She’d been in the hallway and watched the cops break into the old drug locker. Eight days ago, they might have found her pill order in that locker. She had listened to Jesse Stone’s speech about getting help. That wasn’t the part of what he had said that resonated with her. She was no longer just a kid hooked on pills. Now she was on the other end of things. She had taken Chris Grimm’s place.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, tears rolling down her face. “You heard what the chief said. If they catch me doing this, I’ll be in big trouble.”

The older woman wiped the tears off Petra’s cheeks.

“Listen, lover, we can’t be seen in here together. Meet me tonight at the motel at eight and we’ll work it all out. You’ll see. I will make it all better. I’ll text you with the room number.”

She’d pushed the right button, at least for the time being. Petra stopped crying, smiled.

“Give me your hand. This is for you.” She opened Petra’s fingers, placed a little green pill in the girl’s palm, and closed her fingers around it. “I will have more for you tonight. Now make sure no one is outside the door when you step into the hallway. I will wait a few minutes and leave after you.” She leaned forward and kissed Petra softly on the lips. “Go. Until tonight.”

When she was certain the girl had gone, she reached into her pocket, retrieved the prepaid cell phone, and dialed Arakel.

Jesse stopped at the stationhouse to collect another piece of evidence they had retrieved from Chris Grimm’s room: a Rolex Submariner. It was a blue-faced watch with white markings on the dial. The bezel was colored blue with gold markings. The metallic wristband was predominantly silver in color, with a central, single line of gold-colored metal running along the full circumference of the watch from twelve o’clock to six o’clock. There was an inscription on the back of the watch. To Ambrose North from his loving wife.

Molly stopped Jesse on his way from the evidence room to the stationhouse door.

“How did things go at the school?” she asked. “My girls called me. Told me you guys really put a scare into everyone.”

“If the kids are scared, that’s good. But it may have cost me.” He told her about Maryglenn’s reaction to the show they’d put on.

Molly said, “You were doing your job.”

“I was, but no one likes the police in their school.”

Molly shrugged and moved on. “Where you headed?”

He held up the evidence bag containing the Rolex. “The Norths.”

“Oh, Jesse, I almost forgot. I’ve got something on video.”

“Chris Grimm?”

She nodded. Jesse stepped around and stood behind her as she tapped at her computer keyboard.

“This is from the camera at the service-road entrance to Kennedy Park the day of Heather Mackey’s funeral. See the white van.” She clicked the mouse and rollerball to enlarge the image of the van. “It’s a Massachusetts tag, but I can only make out a partial number.” She clicked the mouse again. “Here, less than a minute later. Look.”

The footage showed the white van stopping, its side door sliding open, Chris Grimm emerging from a clump of overgrown bushes and entering the van. There was a silhouette of a man in the back who helped the kid into the van. Once he was in, the door slid shut and the van rode away.

“The rear tag is purposely obscured,” Molly said, pointing to an enlarged still of the rear license plate. “It’s got one of those dark tinted plate holders. Makes it almost impossible to read, even in daylight.”

“Good work, Molly. Run the partial tag. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“More likely to win the lottery.”

“Buy us a ticket and run the plate anyway. And see if you can’t pick the van up on any other cameras. Anything on the storage unit?”

“No receipts, but I have a call in to the owners.”

“Let me know when you hear back.”

“You know, Jesse Stone, I’m not so sure I didn’t like it better when you were in rehab and I was acting chief. There was nobody but the mayor to order me around.”

Jesse took out his credentials case containing his chief’s shield and put it on the desk next to Molly. “Just say the word, Officer Crane, and all this can be yours.”

Molly ignored the offer, because they both knew the truth. Molly had hated her time as acting chief and Jesse had fought too many battles to keep his job to simply walk away.