Robert Parker - Death in Paradise

"I have made us a lovely supper," Lilly said.

"I could use one," Jesse said.

"But if we eat it first," Lilly said, "we'll both be thinking about afterwards and how that's going to go, and won't be able to enjoy the dinner as we should."

"That is a problem," Jesse said.

"So I think we should have the afterwards first. Then we'd be free to concentrate on the lovely supper."

"Sure," Jesse said.

Lilly put down her champagne glass and stood.

"Follow me," she said, and walked past the kitchen counter toward her bedroom.

He felt the familiar smooth curve as he ran his hand up her thigh. The familiar soft slope of her belly. He had done this often. This time, like each time, it was brand-new. He could hear her breathing, felt the pressure of her hips, she was skillful and fully engaged. The part of him that was not making love smiled. Didn't matter if she was skillful. His father used to say, The worst piece of ass I ever had was excellent. There was always that part. The one that wasn't engaged, whether it was lovemaking or fighting. There was always the amused, nonjudgmental other observing it. He wondered if she had an other .

Finally, dressed and relaxed, they sat at her glass-top dining table and ate in silence in the gently moving light of the candles Lilly had lighted. There was a bottle of white wine at hand in an ice bucket.

"That's your real hair color," he said.

"My hair turned silver when I was twenty-six," Lilly said.

She poured some white wine into Jesse's glass. It's all right. I'm nowhere near drunk . He drank some. Nice wine . He ate some of the supper she had served them.

"What am I eating?" Jesse said.

"Lobster meat in a light cream sauce," Lilly said. "With sherry, pearl onions and mushrooms and different-colored sweet peppers, over basmati rice."

"You can cook."

Lilly smiled at him.

"Second best thing I do," she said.

Jesse nodded several times and drank some wine.

Jesse was pretty sure that things would go better with Hooker Royce if his parents weren't around when they talked. He found Hooker at the high school, on the football field, running sprints. He had on expensive athletic shoes, a stopwatch on his wrist and a pair of gray cotton sweatpants that had been cut off to mid thigh. Jesse stood quietly watching Hooker as he did forty-yard sprints, timing each one. He was a muscular, in-shape, middle-sized kid, a little bigger than Jesse, with an even tan and a blond crew cut. When Hooker paused to rest, Jesse spoke to him.

"My name's Jesse Stone. I'm with the police in Paradise."

"Is it about Billie?"

"It is."

"I don't know where she is. I already told the lady from your department that called me."

Jesse nodded. They began to walk around the quarter-mile track that circled the field.

"When's football start at Yale?" Jesse said.

"I'm supposed to show up day after Labor Day."

"You a running back?" Jesse said.

"Yes."

"What'd you run out of in high school?" Jesse said.

"Deep back in the I. You play?"

"High school," Jesse said. "You plan to show up in shape."

"Be dumb not to," Hooker said.

"You were a Globe all-scholastic in three sports," Jesse said.

Hooker nodded.

"And an honor student."

Hooker nodded again.

"Full boat to Yale?"

"Yes."

"You're a nice-looking kid," Jesse said.

"Thank you."

"Probably don't have much trouble getting a date," Jesse said.

Hooker grinned. "When I have time," he said.

"So how come Billie?" Jesse said.

"Whaddya mean?"

"Billie doesn't seem like she'd be your girlfriend."

"Girlfriend? She wasn't my girlfriend."

"You gave her your class ring," Jesse said.

"Yeah, but that was…"

They stopped walking. Hooker turned toward Jesse.

"It's like, I broke up with my regular girlfriend."

"And Billie was available?"

"Christ," Hooker said, and smiled. "Billie was always available."

"And?"

"And, yeah, I needed a date for senior prom, and Paula was going with somebody else."

"And the pickings were thin."

"Most of the girls already had dates. And it seemed like a way to stick it to Paula."

"And get laid in the process," Jesse said.

Hooker grinned and shrugged.

"So how come the ring?" Jesse said.

"I kind of liked her," Hooker said. "After I actually took her to the dance. And I felt bad for her. I mean everybody was banging her, but nobody cared anything much about her, you know?"

"Un-huh."

"And, you know, she wasn't that bad a kid. Like everybody thought she was stupid, and she wasn't. She was pretty smart about a lot of stuff."

"And you fell head over heels in love," Jesse said.

"What planet you come from?" Hooker said. "Like I said, I felt bad for her. I'm not going out with anybody. So I figure, hell, I'm going to college in a couple of months. I'll give her the ring, make her feel good, and then I'll go to college in September and it's over. I don't give a shit about the ring."

"She know that?" Jesse said.

"No, of course not. But it didn't work out like I thought. Paula and I patched it up, and she said if we were going to be together I couldn't be going out with Billie."

"Seems fair," Jesse said. "To Paula."

"Yeah, and, like, I love Paula. You know? Billie wasn't so bad. But…"

"When'd you break the news?" Jesse said.

"About a week after graduation," Hooker said.

"How'd she take it?"

"Funny," Hooker said. "She was funny about it like she expected it to happen. I told her to keep the ring. Like a memento. I figured I'd give Paula something from Yale."

They were quiet, sitting together on the bottom row of the empty stands with the summer sun staring down at them.

"What was her life like at home?" Jesse said.

"I don't know," Hooker said. "She never said anything about home."

"And you never went there?"

"Couple times to pick her up. Mrs. Bishop's real young-looking."

"Anything else?"

Hooker shrugged.

"Nothing I can think of. I'd just go in, pick up Billie, and we'd leave. Mrs. Bishop seemed nice. I was surprised when they kicked her out."

"Did you see her after they kicked her out?"

"No."

"You know where she went?"

"No."

They were silent again. Jesse liked to leave openings for people to fill.

"I gotta do my sprints," Hooker said.

"Sure," Jesse said. "You know anyone with a reason to kill her?"

"No," Hooker said. "You think it's her?"

"Probably," Jesse said.

"Jesus," Hooker said. "That's a shame."

"It is," Jesse said.

"You think you can catch him?"

"Or her."

"Him or her," Hooker said. "You think you'll catch him?"

"You think you'll make the Yale football team?" Jesse said.

"Sure. You gotta stay positive. If you think you can't, you probably won't."

Jesse smiled and didn't say anything.

Hooker saw the smile and paused.

"Oh," he said. "Yeah, sure. Well, good luck."

"You, too," Jesse said.

Hooker walked back to the field, stood on the forty-yard line, set his stopwatch and sprinted to the end zone.

He probably will make it.

No one groomed the field they played on. The park department mowed it once a week, but that was all. Sometimes somebody on one of the teams would bring down a rake and try to smooth things out a little, but there were too many games, and everyone had jobs, and there was just time to come home and change and get to the park. There wasn't much time for groundskeeping. The right-hand batter's box had holes worn in it by an endless series of right-handed hitters digging in. Whatever your natural batting stance, you were forced to set your feet in the holes.