Macklin nodded.

"Only access is across that bridge," he said.

"All the power lines under the bridge, all the phone lines, even the water pipes are icorporated into the bridge under structure

The waitress brought them two more cosmopolitans. The pink drinks looked just right, Macklin thought, out here on the deck of |he weathered shingle restaurant with the harbor below them, lack ling liked things to be right.

"There's a branch of Paradise Bank," he said.

"With safe deposit boxes. There's a private boat club on the harbor end of the sland, only place on the island where you can land a boat. There's health club with a drug store and beauty salon and a restaurant rith a big plate glass picture window looking out on the ocean Aide. And there's a private security patrol, a man on the bridge twenty-four hours, and a two-man cruiser patrolling the island twenty-four hours. Everybody got a radio that connects to the security headquarters in the other side of the real estate office and IP the Paradise Police."

Faye held her glass with the fingertips of both hands. She was matching him over the rim of it as he talked. When he finished she whistled very softly.

"And I thought all you were doing was watchIng Mrs. Campbell's ass," she said.

Macklin grinned.

"Attention to detail," he said.

A gull coasted down, sat on the fence railing about five feet away, and waited. The waitress brought flatware wrapped in napkins, and an order of fried clams in a small paper napkin-lined wicker basket. She put the clams on the table between them and placed two small paper cups of tartar sauce beside the basket.

"Catsup?" she said.

"No, thank you very much," Macklin said.

The gull fixed its opaque stare on the clams. Macklin un wrapped his flatware and tucked the napkin in under his chin. He picked up the knife and made a fencer's pose at the gull.

"One move at the clams, bird, and you die," Macklin said.

Faye picked up a clam with her fingers, dabbed it in the tartar sauce, and popped it in her mouth. She wiped her fingertips carefully with her napkin while she chewed her clam.

When she swallowed it, she said, "So what is your plan?"

"Well," Macklin said, "I thought I might give Mrs. Campbell a ringy dingy..."

"Like hell," Faye said.

"Looking is one thing. You're a man, and you can't help it. But you start following up, and I will cut off your balls."

"Faye, would I cheat on you?"

"Like I say, you're a man."

"Cynical," Macklin said.

"Experienced," Faye said.

"Besides, you know what I meant.

What is your plan for doing business on the island?"

"Well I'm going to get a good map," Macklin said.

"And I'm going to start putting together a crew."

"What are we going to do for money in the meantime?"

"I'll get some," Macklin said.

"I hope so. You got people in mind for this crew?"

"Yeah. It's one of the best things about going to jail a few times," Macklin said.

"You get a chance to network."

"You going to hit the bank?"

"Sweet cakes," Macklin said, "I'm going to hit the whole island."

SEVEN.

As he had taken to doing when his day ended at five, Jesse stopped by the bar at the Gray Gull. He would have two drinks, talk with the bartender or a few of the reglulars, and then go home for supper. It iworked better than having a drink at "home. It was sociable, and it was easier to stop after two in public. Being chief of police carried with it certain obligations, and | Jesse was pretty sure that not getting pink in public was one of them.

"Black label and soda, Doc," Jesse said to the bartender. He made a measuring gesture with his hands.

"Tall glass."

The bartender made the drink and set it before Jesse and went down to the service corner of the bar to get a waitress order. He mixed up two pink drinks, one of them up, the other on the rocks, and set them out with the slip tucked between the glasses. Then he came back down the bar to talk with Jesse.

"You been fighting crime all day?" Doc said.

"Serve and protect," Jesse said.

"What are those pink things?"

"Cosmopolitans," Doc said.

"Sort of a summer martini."

"They look tasty," Jesse said.

"They're pretty good," Doc said.

"You want to try one? On me?"

The young waitress came and put the two drinks on a tray and went out onto the deck with them. Jesse noticed that her cutoff jeans were snug. "No thanks, Doc. Scotch is fine."

Jesse nursed his drink. The bar was only half full. It was mid-week, and the after-work crowd hadn't drifted in yet in force. Jesse liked quiet bars. He liked them best in the middle of the afternoon, air-conditioned and nearly empty, where everything was desultory and you could play old Carl Perkins stuff on the juke box and watch people as they came in out of the outside brightness and paused for their eyes to adjust. He liked the lucent way the bottles looked, arranged along the back of a good bar with the mirror reflecting the light from behind them. It was a little too late to be perfect, but it was still a good place to be. For two drinks.

In the bar mirror, he saw Abby Taylor come into the bar with a tall man in a seersucker suit. Jesse smiled. Only here, Jesse thought. Until a year ago, he'd never seen a seersucker suit. They got a table behind him and sat. Abby saw him then and said something to the man and got up and walked over. She was wearing an olive suit with a short skirt.

"Jesse," she said.

"How are you?"

They shook hands, and she put her cheek out. Jesse kissed it lightly.

"Fine," Jesse said.

"You look great."

Behind her Jesse could see the guy in the seersucker suit order drinks from a waitress. He was nearly bald, with what remained of his hair cut short.

"Thanks, you too. How are you and Jenn getting on?"

Jesse shrugged.

"She came back because I was in trouble. Now I'm not in trouble. She hasn't been around much. Suit tells me he saw her doing the weather on Channel Three."

"So you're not together?"

"God no," Jesse said.

"But you're not fully apart," Abby said.

"Are you?"

"I guess not," Jesse said.

"That the new boyfriend?"

"Chip? Maybe. We've been dating for a while."

"Chip?" Jesse said.

"I know, but he's really nice. He knows about us. Want to meet him?"

"No," Jesse said.

The young waitress with the tight cutoffs came out of the kitchen with a basket of clams and walked past them toward the deck. Jesse watched her. Abby smiled.

"Good to see you've not lost all interest," Abby said.

"I don't think that's possible," Jesse said.

"Well..." Abby paused a moment, thinking of what to say.

"I

| hope you and Jenn work it out, whatever way is best for you."

"When we got divorced I thought we had," Jesse said.

"One would have thought that," Abby said and patted his hand | lightly where it rested on the bar.

"Take care of yourself."

"You too," Jesse said.

He watched her as she walked back to sit down with Chip. Chip | looked over at him and nodded in a friendly way. Fuck you, Chip.

"Better hit me again, Doc," Jesse said.