"Molly," Jesse said. "I think you better take Mrs. Snyder down to Channing Hospital Emergency Room and get her face cleaned up."

"It's okay," Mrs. Snyder said. "It'll be fine."

"And while she's there have them examine her whole body."

"Hey," Snyder said. "What are you gonna do, strip her down?"

"Suit, put Mr. Snyder in a cell, for his own protection, until he's sober."

"I ain't drunk. I ain't going in no drunk tank. No way I'm letting you take her down to the fucking hospital and make her strip."

"I don't want to go to the hospital."

Jesse got up from behind his desk and walked around and stood in front of them and leaned his hips on the front edge of the desk.

"What's your first name, Mr. Snyder."

"Jerry."

"Jerry, we got you for assault."

"I didn't assault nobody."

"We have the bruised victim. We have the eyewitness testimony of a police officer, and I'll bet we could find some bruising on your knuckles."

Snyder looked quickly at his hands and caught himself and looked quickly away.

"We got plenty of grounds for putting you in jail."

"Not for doing nothing you don't."

"But we're trying not to turn this into something bigger than it is," Jesse said. "So you'll have to sit it out here for a couple hours while we get some medical opinion on the extent of the damage."

"You can't arrest me, I don't got a lawyer."

"We're not arresting you, Jerry. We're detaining you in the interests of public safety, and your own. You're too drunk to be out loose."

"I won't go in no jail cell," Snyder said.

He stood up, his face less than a foot from Jesse's.

"Come on, Viv," he said to his wife. "We're walking."

Jesse shook his head slightly and kicked Snyder's ankles out from under him. Snyder went down suddenly, on his left side. Before Snyder could reorient himself, Simpson stepped from the wall, snapped the cuffs on him, and got him on his feet.

"Jerry," Mrs. Snyder said.

"You'll see him in a couple of hours," Jesse said. "Nobody's going to hurt him."

"He didn't do nothing," she said as Molly steered her out of the room.

They went to the Gray Gull every Wednesday night. They sat outside in the warm night where they could look at the town dock and the harbor and across the harbor at Paradise Neck and Stiles Island. Jenn had a glass of Chardonnay. Jesse drank cranberry juice and soda.

"Are you solving your murder?" Jenn asked.

"Not exactly," Jesse said.

"Progress?"

"Some."

"Try not to be such a blabbermouth," Jenn said.

Jesse smiled. "I'm preoccupied with you," he said.

"I'm not sure that's good for you. But I guess I like it."

"I thought I had the dead girl ID'd," Jesse said. "But the people who were supposed to be her parents say they have no such daughter."

"Well, they would know, wouldn't they?"

"One of the daughters they do have was there," Jesse said. "Younger. Maybe twelve, thirteen."

"So?"

"There was something wrong. Kid looked like she'd been frozen."

"Wrong?"

"Yep."

"You think parents would pretend not to have a child? When they really did?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"Maybe she was bad. Maybe it was one of those never darken my door again, I no longer have a daughter things."

"So you can find that out, can't you?"

"I can. I haven't yet."

"They have any other children?"

"Yes. An older daughter. She's at Mount Holyoke College. We called and left a message. She hasn't called back."

"How can a parent deny a child?" Jenn said.

"I've seen it before," Jesse said. "Kid disappoints the parent. Parent can't stand the disappointment. If the kid doesn't exist, then the disappointment doesn't exist."

He sipped some cranberry juice and soda.

"It's hard to live with the fact of your own failure every day," he said.

"I know."

"We both live with that," Jesse said.

"It's my fault," Jenn said. "I'm the adulteress."

"And I'm the drunk," Jesse said. "It does no good, Jenn."

"I know."

The black water moved quietly against the pilings beneath the deck. The light gleamed singularly at the end of Paradise Neck. Some of the big pleasure boats in the harbor were lighted. People sat, mostly on the afterdeck, and drank cocktails.

They looked at their menus. They both ordered lobster salad.

"You know what my shrink told me?" Jenn said.

Jesse smiled. "No," he said. "I don't."

"He said that the bond between us was truly impressive."

"Even though we're divorced," Jesse said.

"Maybe more so because we're not together."

"So the bond has to be strong," Jesse said.

"It's all there is to hold us," Jenn said.

"Maybe it shouldn't," Jesse said. "Maybe we should move on."

"We should," Jenn said.

"But we don't," Jesse said.

"We can't," Jenn said.

"But we don't get married."

"I can't," Jenn said.

"And we're not monogamous."

"When I think of it," Jenn said. "You and me, till death do us part… I feel claustrophobic."

"You and the shrink figured out why that is?"

"Not yet," Jenn said.

Jesse looked at Jenn's face. He knew it so well. He felt the need begin to rise like water filling a glass. He wanted a drink. Something more than cranberry juice. He felt that need rising too, and the needs became one need. He took in some air. Hang on. He took in a big breath and exhaled slowly, trying not to let it show. Jenn put her hand out and rested it on his hand.

"But we will," she said.

"I hope so," Jesse said.

His voice was flat with the effort of repression.

"I do too," Jenn said.

"Maybe you and he will find a way to break the bond," Jesse said.

"I don't think so," Jenn said.

"Good."

"This is very hard," Jenn said.

"It is."

Jenn's hand was still resting on his forearm.

"But we're still here," Jenn said softly.

"We are," Jesse said.

"What makes you think she'll show up here?" Molly said.

She sat beside Jesse in his unmarked car, parked across from an ice cream stand on the Lynn Shore Drive, above the beach.

"Lilly Summers told me the kids hang out here."

"The principal?"

"Un-huh."

"Did she also tell you that school records show Billie Bishop's parents to be Henry and Sandra Bishop?"

"Actually," Jesse grinned at Molly, "she told you that when you called her."

"Nice to be remembered," Molly said. "So why don't you just confront them with the record?"

"I thought I might learn more by talking to the kid first," Jesse said, "before everybody shuts down because they're scared or mad or defensive or whatever they'll get."

"You only saw her that one time," Molly said. "You sure you'll recognize her?"

Jesse smiled.

"Of course you will," Molly said. "Cancel the question."

It was a still July day. There was no air movement. The foliage in the little park looked thick and permanent. The ocean was still. Insects hummed. Around the ice cream stand young kids gathered in a colorful confusion of tee shirts, shorts, high-priced sneakers, and expensive bicycles. Occasionally someone bought ice cream.

"They're the right age group," Jesse said.

"Twelve to fourteen," Molly said. "I got a couple."

"Tough being that age," Jesse said.

"Tough being a kid," Molly said.

Jesse nodded. He looked steadily across the street at the kids.

"This principal," Molly said, "Dr. Summers?"

Jesse nodded.

"How's she look?"

"Good," Jesse said.

Molly waited. Jesse kept looking at the kids.

"Anything there?" Molly said.