said.

“You spoke to her without me?” Mrs.

Pennington

said.

“It seemed the only way I could,” Jesse said.

“Sheldon,” she said. “I want you

to make that clear to this

policeman that we will not tolerate scandal.”

“Mr. Stone has been nice to me,” Candace said.

“Candace, you be quiet,” Mrs. Pennington said.

“No, Margaret,” Pennington said.

“You are the one that has to be

quiet.”

“Chuck …”

“This didn’t happen to you,”

Pennington said. “It happened to

Candace. It matters what Candace wants.”

“My God, Chuck, she’s

…”

Resnick put his hand on Mrs. Pennington’s forearm.

“Chuck’s right, Margaret. Now is not the time.”

Mrs. Pennington opened her mouth, then closed it, and clamped her lips and sat back in her chair and folded her arms.

Pennington turned in his chair and looked at Jesse. He had very

pale blue eyes.

“I know the kind of pressure you must be under now,” he said.

“And I appreciate your taking the time for this.”

“Candace has always known who raped her,”

Jesse said. “But she

and I agreed that if she blew the whistle on them, uncorroborated, we might not get them, and her life in Paradise would be ruined.”

Pennington nodded.

“They were going to show my picture to everyone,” Candace

said.

Pennington nodded again. He showed no emotion, though Jesse noted that the knuckles on his clasped hands looked white.

“Now they probably won’t,” he

said.

He looked at Jesse.

“No,” Jesse said. “They

won’t. They’re scared.”

“Good,” Candace said.

Jesse nodded slowly.

“And they’re scared of you,”

Jesse said.

Candace looked at Jesse, then at her father, and then, more covertly, at her mother.

“Excellent,” she said.

“The law always talks about justice,”

Jesse said. “We’re

officially in favor of it. But if I were you what I would want would be revenge.”

“Chief Stone …” Mrs. Pennington

said.

Her husband shook his head at her.

“That’s what I would like,” he

said.

“Okay,” Jesse said. “Marino,

Feeney and Drake have incriminated

themselves. If we didn’t know anything about you the pictures would

have led us to you.”

Candace nodded. She understood.

“So we need a statement,” Jesse said.

“And if we go to court

we’ll need you to testify.”

“Will anyone else see those pictures?”

Candace

said.

“If we go to trial,” Jesse said,

“the defense will argue that

you were a willing participant and made up the rape story. The pictures would be evidence to the contrary.”

“My God, naked pictures of my daughter,”

Mrs. Pennington said.

“In public. I won’t permit it.”

“We’re a long way past propriety here, Margaret. It’s Candace’s

decision.”

“She’s not old enough to decide something like this,” Mrs.

Pennington said.

“I’ll give a statement,” Candace

said. “And I’ll testify if I

have to.”

“Candace …”

“Good,” Jesse said. “Is there

someplace you can go and give

Molly your statement?”

“They can use the kitchen,” Pennington said.

As she followed Candace from the room, Molly smiled at Jesse, and, shielding the gesture with her body, gave him a thumbs-up.

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Jesse looked through the big window at the brisk gray ocean.

“Kids like Candace,” Jesse said, still looking at the ocean,

“often need some therapy after an experience like this one.”

“You mean from a psychiatrist?” Mrs.

Pennington

said.

“Yes,” Jesse said. “If you need

a referral I can get one for

you.”

Mrs. Pennington looked at her husband.

“We’ll see,” he said.

“Thanks for the offer.”

“As far as the case goes,” Resnick said, after a moment, “a plea

bargain would certainly seem possible.”

“Be up to the defense lawyers and the DA,”

Jesse

said.

“But you agree that it could happen?” Mrs.

Pennington

said.

“It often does,” Jesse said.

38

“We had sex an hour before she

died,” Jesse

said.

Dix nodded.

“I’m sad,” Jesse said.

“And I’m insulted.”

Dix tilted his head slightly.

“I’m the chief of police and I’m

trying to catch these bastards

and they shoot a woman I just made love to.”

“You think it was intentional?” Dix said.

“I don’t know,” Jesse said.

“But it makes me

mad.”

“And you think it was more than one

person?” Dix

said.

“Yes. The two guns don’t make any sense to me

otherwise.”

Dix was wearing a blue blazer today, and a white shirt.

Everything about him gleamed. His shaved head, his starched shirt, his thick-soled mahogany shoes. He sat with his hands laced over his flat stomach, rubbing the tips of his thumbs together.

“Jenn called me after Abby was killed,”

Jesse said. “And said

she hoped I was okay.”

Dix waited, moving the tips of his thumbs softly back and forth.

“Then she said she wanted me to give her special access to the

sniper killing, her and a cameraman, inside coverage, follow the whole investigation.”

Dix nodded encouragingly.

“Four people die, and she sees it as a career opportunity.”

“Why would she think you’d allow

that?” Dix said.

Jesse smiled without humor.

“Because she is the, ah, object of my affections,” he

said.

“Object?”

“Just being amusing,” Jesse said.

Dix didn’t say anything. They were quiet. The room shimmered

with stillness. Jesse took in some air. His movements were stiff.

Dix waited. He seemed perfectly comfortable waiting. Jesse’s stiffness loosened.

“She said once,” Jesse’s voice

was hoarse, “that what I really

love is my fantasy of her, and I keep trying to squeeze her into it.”

“What did you say?”

“I said it was fucking shrink talk.”

Dix grinned.

“The object of your affection,” Dix said.

“More fucking shrink talk,” Jesse said.

Dix smiled.

“Sure,” he said. “I am, after

all, a fucking

shrink.”

39

There were too many of them for Jesse’s office, so they went to

the conference room in the station. Jesse was there, at the head of the conference table. Beside him sat an Essex County assistant district attorney named Martin Reagan. Molly and Suitcase Simpson stood against the wall. Bo Marino and his parents sat on one side of the table. Troy Drake and his mother sat on the other side. Two lawyers from a big Boston firm representing both families sat at the end of the table opposite Jesse. The lead attorney was a sleek red-haired woman named Rita Fiore. The other lawyer was a small man with a narrow face and a graying Vandyke beard. His name was Barry Feldman.

“Here’s what we got,” Jesse

said. “Or at least all of it I can

remember. There’s so much that Marty may have to remind me.”

Rita smiled.

“So we begin,” she said.

“We have a sworn statement from Kevin Feeney that he and Bo

Marino and Troy Drake raped Candace Pennington and photographed her naked.”

“I understand that he is clearly identifiable in the pictures,”

Rita said.

“He is,” Jesse said.

“How stalwart of him to admit it,” Rita said.

“We have Candace Pennington’s sworn

statement that Kevin Feeney,

Bo Marino, and Troy Drake raped her and photographed her naked.”

“Hardly a disinterested observer,” Rita said.