Lutz drank some whiskey.

“I used to be a tough guy,” Lutz said.

He shook his head and looked slowly around the room, still shaking his head. On the low table where the phone sat was a picture of Jenn.

“That her?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Good-looking,” he said. “They’re always good-looking.”

“She’s good-looking,” Jesse said.

“And you’re still hanging on,” Lutz said.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I love her,” Jesse said.

Lutz gave a low, humorless whiskey laugh that sounded as much like a cough.

“There they got you,” he said.

He nodded his head slowly.

“There they got you,” he said. “So I hang around and she married Lutz and I stay on as his fucking bodyguard, sort of keep an eye on the investment, you know? And things are developing good until here comes Carey Longley, and Walton knocks her up and wants a divorce and everything is going to go to the kid…. The shit hits the fan.”

“All that time and work and investment,” Jesse said.

“She says I gotta kill them. And, fuck, you get the picture. I do what she says.”

“You knew about the house in Paradise,” Jesse said.

“Sure, I was there a few times. So that night, I brought them up to do a walk-through,” Lutz said, “and talk about their plans, and where the kid’s room would be, and when they got there I shot them outside, on the beach, at low tide, and let them bleed out, so when the tide came in it would wash away the blood. But I fucked up, I guess.”

Jesse nodded.

“You found some blood in the cold room?”

Jesse nodded.

“Should have bled them longer,” Lutz said.

“Yes.”

“I don’t care,” Lutz said. “I’m not sure I really cared then. It was the last thing. Then it was over and we’d be together.”

“And you kept them in the cold room to screw up the ME,” Jesse said.

“Yep.”

“And you hung him from a tree to confuse us.”

Lutz nodded.

“Figured you’d be chasing wild geese all over the place,” Lutz said.

He made the cough/laugh sound again.

“He was a public figure, you know,” he said.

“And the girl in the Dumpster?”

“Another fuckup,” Lutz said. “I wanted her to just go away. I covered her up, but some dump picker must have uncovered her and panicked and run off. Or sea gulls, maybe, or a dog…or maybe I was fucking up on purpose, you know? Like the shrinks say?”

He emptied his glass and stared at it and added some ice and poured more scotch.

“It ain’t working,” he said. “Scotch ain’t working. Nothing’s working.”

Jesse nodded.

“And then…” Lutz said.

He drank and made his choking laugh sound.

“Just when you think it’s safe to go back in the water…here comes Hendricks.”

“And she needed to be with him to carry on the franchise and solidify your position.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lutz said. “I didn’t know we were both doing her the same day until you told me.”

Jesse nodded. Lutz drank.

“So that’s how it went,” Lutz said. “She was the brains and the motivation. I was the patsy.”

“And you killed a man and a woman and an unborn child.”

“Yep.”

“For her,” Jesse said.

“I’m glad you get that,” Lutz said.

“I get it,” Jesse said.

“Maybe you’re a patsy, too,” Lutz said.

“Maybe,” Jesse said. “But it won’t help you. You killed three people.”

“And you know what’s pathetic?” Lutz said. “Everything I told you about her won’t do you any good unless I say it in court, and I won’t.”

“You’ll take the rap for her?” Jesse said.

Lutz nodded.

“So why’d you tell me,” Jesse said.

Lutz shrugged.

“I needed somebody to know,” Lutz said.

He finished his scotch and stood up.

“Now I’m walking,” he said.

“You know I can’t let you go,” Jesse said.

“You got a gun,” Lutz said.

“What is this,” Jesse said, “suicide by cop?”

“I’m walking,” Lutz said.

“I can stop you without the gun,” Jesse said.

Lutz took a gun out from under his jacket and pointed it loosely at nothing.

“No,” Lutz said, “you can’t.”

Jesse picked his own gun up off the bar top.

“I’ll kill you if I have to,” Jesse said.

“Close your case for you,” Lutz said.

“I’ll stay after Lorrie,” Jesse said.

“Without me you got nothing,” Lutz said. “There’s no sign of her anywhere.”

Lutz began to back toward the front door, the gun still in his hand.

“I don’t want to do this, Lutz,” Jesse said.

Lutz nodded and smiled at him sadly.

“But you will,” Lutz said.

He raised the gun and aimed at Jesse and Jesse shot him in the middle of the mass, three times, his hand steady, his mind now empty, concentrating only on the shot. Lutz lurched a little. The gun fell from his hand. He went back another couple of steps and fell over, and lay on his side and bled to death on Jesse’s rug.

Jesse stayed where he was by the bar and looked at the body on the floor. The sound that came after gunfire was always paralyzing. After a time he put the gun on the bar and got off the bar stool and walked over to Lutz and looked down. Lutz’s face had lost all expression. His open eyes saw nothing.

“You goddamned fool,” Jesse said.

Then he went to the phone and called the station.

63

Jesse sat alone on his deck, looking at the dark harbor and at the lights of Paradise Neck across the harbor. Lutz was gone. His rug had been cleaned. The press had left. The governor had called to congratulate him. Neat as a pin. He put his feet up on the railing and tilted his chair back slightly and rocked.

“Lorrie Pilarcik,” he said aloud.

He could see the running lights of the harbormaster’s boat moving among the moored boats in the near harbor, heading deviously for the town wharf. Behind him, through the open door of the deck, across the living room, he heard a key in the front-door lock. Only one person had the key. In a moment, it opened and then closed and he heard her footsteps.

“Jesse,” she said. “It’s Jenn.”

He put his hand up and she took it and held it as she sat down on the chair beside him.

“You okay?” she said.

“I am,” Jesse said.

“I heard about it on the news.”

Jesse nodded.

“You want to talk about it?” Jenn said.

“Not very much,” Jesse said.

“Have you been sleeping?” Jenn said.

“Not much,” Jesse said.

“I remember what you’re like,” she said.

“I’m glad you remember,” Jesse said.

“If you’ll have me, I’d like to spend the night,” Jenn said.

“That may not make me sleep,” Jesse said.

Jenn smiled.

“I’m glad you remember,” she said. “I’d like to stay if you’ll have me.”

“Yes,” Jesse said.

“Would you like me to make you a drink?” Jenn said.

The night air felt clear in his lungs.

“Yes,” he said.

Jenn went to the bar. Jesse watched the harbor boat wind toward shore. Jenn brought back scotch for Jesse and citron vodka for herself. They sat together and sipped their drinks and watched the harbor boat.

“I couldn’t tell from the news why he did it,” Jenn said. “Cherchez la femme,” Jesse said. “He did it for a woman?” “He thought he did.”

“Is she culpable?” Jenn said. “I think so,” Jesse said. “Are you going to get her, too?” “I’m going to try.”

“But you might not be able to,” Jenn said. “Maybe not,” Jesse said. “Can you tell me about it?” Jenn said. “Sure,” Jesse said.

She listened silently as he told her what Lutz had told him. “And you can’t use any of what you know?” “Not as evidence,” Jesse said. “The poor man,” Jenn said. “He killed two adults and an unborn baby,” Jesse said. “For her.”

“He’s the one who did it,” Jesse said. “And we’re all responsible for what we do,” Jenn said. “If you don’t believe that, what the hell else is there?” “It’s not always true,” Jenn said. “We both know that.”