Robert B. Parker’s the Hangman’s Sonnet

“I had a date when I was a kid,” he said, breaking the silence. “Was going pretty well, I thought. But when we were in her living room alone staring at each other, I reached out and stroked her hair. That did it. She made a face at me and she complained she wasn’t a golden retriever and didn’t feel like being petted.”

Tamara laughed. It was a kind of shrill, manic laugh, not her usual deep laugh.

“What is it?” he asked when she calmed down. “What’s wrong?”

“I got offered a job with the Travis County Medical Examiner’s Office. Travis County. That’s Austin, Texas.”

“When would you have to leave? Are you going to take it?”

She sat up, stared him in the eyes. “Do you want me to — I mean, do you think I should? I’d start after Labor Day. It means I’d have to give notice now and leave next month.”

“Is it a step up?”

“Of course it is. You know why I took the job here, because of the mess in New York.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Uh-huh! Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Uh-huh.”

She punched him in the arm. “Damn you, Jesse Stone.”

He smiled, then asked, “Why would you take it?”

“The pay is higher. The taxes are lower. The weather’s better. It’d be more of a challenge. My folks are still down there and they’re not getting any younger.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve made a pretty airtight case for taking the job.”

She sat up, kissed him softly on the cheek, paused. “That’s why I’m here, stupid.”

“How’s that?”

“To let you talk me out of it,” she said. “Or to make me hesitate a little.”

“Your decision, Doc.”

“At least tell me you’ll miss me.”

“You know I will. I miss you already.”

“That’s better,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “Tell me more.”

63

Tamara was gone by the time he woke up. Soon she would be gone for good. Another woman out of his life forever. He didn’t want to think about that.

It had all been a desperate evening, sad, but with some laughs, too. They hadn’t known each other all that long, yet they’d been through a lot together. In spite of their protestations about friendship and no commitments, they’d fallen a little bit in love with each other. How could they not? They were both such loners by nature and temperament, so willing to accept the limitations they each imposed on the relationship, there was an inevitability to love. Yet neither one of them would make the first move toward the bedroom. The time for that, if there had ever been one, had passed. Their love was built on friendship. It was an easy kind of love, short on expectations and long on comfort.

In the shower, Jesse’s thoughts turned away from Tamara’s pending departure to the events of the previous day. He couldn’t get the sonnet out of his head. In death’s black-lined womb I seek her grace. The mirror has revealed my hangman’s face. And with the sonnet in play, it probably wouldn’t be long before word of the missing tape would become public. Once that happened, there would be no controlling what followed. There was no way to get ahead of, around, or over what was headed his way. Maybe, he thought, the best thing to do was to run straight for it.

Jesse had lathered up half his face when the doorbell rang. His cell was on the vanity to his right. He checked it to make sure he hadn’t missed calls from the station while he was in the shower. The last thing he needed was for Molly and Alisha to show up at his door again. No calls. He wiped the shaving cream off his face, threw on his old Dodgers shorts, and headed down the stairs. Probably Tamara, he thought, reaching for the doorknob. Although he was confident she was going to take the job in Austin, she hadn’t said as much. She probably wanted to come over and get that on the record or give him another chance to talk her out of it. He hadn’t done a very good job of discouraging her last night.

There was a woman standing on the other side of the door, but it wasn’t Tamara Elkin. Bella Lawton smiled her electric smile at Jesse, and while she had on more clothing than she’d worn the other day by the pool, she was no less attractive. She was dressed in a sheer midriff-baring blouse that left almost nothing for Jesse’s imagination to work with. She wore tight white shorts that were similarly stingy and open-toed shoes with chunky heels. Chunky or not, the heels somehow managed to exaggerate the perfect shape and flawless tan of her legs. And even from where he stood, Jesse could smell the raw scent of Bella’s perfume, all crushed herbs with undertones of patchouli and citrus.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Chief — Jesse?”

“Come in,” he said, and stood back to let her pass.

She purposefully brushed lightly against him as she came into the house.

“I was about to shave,” he said, not reacting to her touch. “What can I do for you, Bella?”

She smiled at him in a way that made her answer pretty clear. Then added, “Too bad you already showered.”

Jesse wasn’t in the mood for innuendo. “Why are you here?”