hand on the inside of his thigh.

“Yes,” she said.

“Me too,” he said.

They sat silently for a while watching the people. A dark-haired

woman in a tailored suit came out of the Gray Gull. She was carrying a briefcase and talking on a cell phone. He raised his camera and aimed.

“Her,” he said.

30

“I don’t know why I

went there,” Jesse

said.

“Why did you think you were going?” Dix said.

“She wasn’t returning my calls. I thought maybe I could catch

her coming out and we could have a drink or something.”

“Catch her,” Dix said.

“You think I was trying to catch her with a guy?”

“Do you?”

Dix was wearing a black turtleneck sweater today. And gray slacks. His bald head and clean-shaven face were shiny clean. His thick hands were motionless on the arms of his swivel chair, which he had tipped back while he listened to Jesse. His fingernails looked manicured.

“I want to kill anyone she’s

with,” Jesse said. “I feel like

I’ll explode if I don’t.”

“Because …?” Dix said.

“Because I love her.”

“But,” Dix said, “you

don’t kill anyone.”

Jess shrugged and smiled a little.

“Because I love her,” Jesse said.

“You win, you lose,” Dix said.

“You lose, you

lose.”

“Exactly. Ain’t love grand.”

“It might not be love,” Dix said.

Jesse straightened a little in his chair.

“Do shrinks believe in love?” Jesse said.

“I do,” Dix said, “loosely

speaking.”

“I love her,” he said. “If I

know nothing else, I know

that.”

Dix nodded.

“You accept that?” Jesse said.

“Sure,” Dix said. “But almost

everything human operates at more

than one level.”

“You think there’s something else at work?”

“Don’t you?”

Jesse sat for a moment, looking at the palm of his right hand, flexing the fingers.

“I imagine her with them,” Jesse said.

“Having

sex.”

“She ever tell you about it?” Dix said.

“God no,” Jesse said.

“So you don’t know what she’s

doing in fact.”

“I can imagine,” Jesse said.

His voice was hoarse. He cleared it. Dix was entirely still in his chair. Jesse saw that he was wearing black loafers with tassels, and no socks.

“Knowledge is power,” Dix said.

Jesse stared at him. Dix’s face never showed anything. Jesse

folded his hands and sat back in his chair with his elbows resting on the chair arms. The room was quiet. He heard his chair squeak as he shifted in it.

“But I don’t know what she’s

doing,” Jesse said.

“So you invent it,” Dix said.

“Yes,” Jesse said. “I guess I

do.”

“How long have you been inventing her life?” Dix

said.

“Always,” Jesse said.

31

Suitcase Simpson sat very straight in the chair across from Jesse’s desk. He was always serious when he reported. Like a kid,

Jesse thought, giving a school report on Denmark.

“Bo Marino,” he said, “is around

school bragging about how he

spent a night in jail. Troy Drake is staying clear of Bo, and Kevin Feeney hasn’t been in school for the past three days.”

“You try his house?” Jesse said.

“Not yet, I wanted to check with you first.”

“Okay,” Jesse said. “Go get

him.”

“What about Drake?”

“We don’t know that Drake was

involved,” Jesse

said.

“Candy said …”

“Candace,” Jesse said. “And we

didn’t get any of this from her,

remember?”

Simpson nodded.

“And take Molly with you,” Jesse said.

“You think I can’t handle this

alone?”

“I’ve seen you handle worse than this alone, Suit. Molly has a

calming effect on parents.”

Simpson looked pleased for a moment, and left. Jesse picked up the phone and called Abby Taylor.

“You still representing Bo Marino?” he said when she

answered.

“No.”

“Old man fire you?”

“He didn’t get the chance,” Abby

said.

“Good for you.”

“File him under life’s too

short,” Abby said. “Are you going to pursue this?”

“I am.”

“I wish you well.”

“You know who your replacement is?”

“No, but I’ll bet he’s a

loudmouth,” Abby said.

“No bet,” Jesse said. “Want to

have dinner some

night?”

There was a pause. Jesse waited.

Then Abby said, “Of course I would. I have always felt bad about

the way we, ah, ended.”

“Gray Gull?” Jesse said.

“Tonight?”

Again the pause. Again Jesse waited.

“Absolutely,” Abby said.

“I’ll meet you there.”

“Good,” Jesse

said and hung up.

He leaned back against his chair and looked up at the ceiling for a time. See if I can stay sober.

32

Simpson brought Kevin Feeney in with his mother and father.

When

they were seated in Jesse’s office, Simpson left and closed the

door behind him. Kevin’s face was pale and he swallowed often. His

freckles stood out starkly.

“Kevin says he doesn’t know why you

arrested him,” Kevin’s

father said.

He was a smallish man with thinning red hair and a somewhat unsuccessful mustache. Mrs. Feeney had long gray hair. Her flowered dress was large and shapeless.

“Actually,” Jesse said, “we

haven’t arrested him. We have asked

him to come in and answer some questions.”

“About what,” Mr. Feeney said.

His voice cracked a little. Jesse took a copy of one of the photographs from a folder and slid it across the desk.

Candace’s

face had been blacked out.

Mr. and Mrs. Feeney looked at the picture. Kevin did not.

Mrs. Feeney said, “Oh my God, Kevin, is that you?”

Mr. Feeney continued to stare at the picture. Jesse waited quietly.

After a time Mr. Feeney said, “Who’s the girl?”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

Mrs. Feeney said, “Kevin?”

Kevin looked at the floor.

“Kevin,” Mrs. Feeney said. “Who

is that girl?”

Kevin kept looking at the floor. He shook his head.

Mrs. Feeney looked at Jesse. “Who is she? Why is her face

blacked out?”

“No reason to humiliate her more than necessary,” Jesse

said.

“But how can we help if we don’t know who she

is?”

“Kevin probably knows,” Jesse said.

“Goddamnit, Kevin,” Mr. Feeney said.

“Who is she? What’s going

on?”

Kevin huddled up tighter into himself and stared harder at the floor. Both parents looked at Jesse.

“What’s going to happen?” Mrs.

Feeney said to Jesse. “He’s not a

criminal, you know.”

“We have a picture of him forcibly restraining a naked young

woman who is crying,” Jesse said.

“There’s probably a crime in

there someplace.”

“How can you tell she’s crying,”

Mrs. Feeney

said.

“I’ve seen the full picture,”

Jesse said. “Face and

all.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Mr.

Feeney said. “Should I get a

lawyer.”

“You won’t need one until we arrest

him,” Jesse

said.

“Arrest?” Mrs. Feeney said. “How

can you arrest him? He’s a

child, for God’s sake.”

Jesse got up and walked around his desk and sat on the corner of

it in front of Kevin.

“Who took the picture?” Jesse said.

Kevin stared at the floor.

“Did you rape this girl?” Jesse said.

Without raising his eyes, Kevin said, “I didn’t do

nothing.”

Jesse let out an audible breath.

“This isn’t skipping school, Kevin, or smoking a joint,” he

said. “This is jail time.”

“Oh my God,” Mrs. Feeney said.