Killing the Blues - Michael Brandman [35]
He got off two quick shots, the first of which struck his assailant in the chest.
Jesse rolled into a sitting position and fired three more times.
The double-parked sedan sped away, tires screeching. Jesse fired at it.
Then he stood, and with his pistol extended, walked toward the man lying on the ground. He knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. There was none.
Jesse holstered his pistol just as Suitcase and Steve Lesnick burst from the station house, their service weapons in their hands.
Jesse signaled to them that there was no longer a threat. They put their weapons away.
“See if he has ID on him,” Jesse said to Suitcase.
To Steve Lesnick he said, “There’s a late-model sedan which just left the parking lot in a big hurry. I think it was a Buick. I couldn’t get the license. Maybe there’s someone who can track it.”
Suitcase searched the body.
Lesnick reached for his cell phone.
“Nothing, Jesse,” Suitcase said. “Not even a wallet. What do you make of it?”
“Mob hit,” Jesse said. “Secure the scene. Call for a CSI unit. Let me know if anyone spots the getaway vehicle.”
As Jesse walked back to the station, the two officers looked at each other.
“I was right,” Lesnick said.
“About what,” Suitcase said.
“About Jesse,” Lesnick said.
“What about Jesse,” Suitcase said.
“He didn’t even flinch. It’s like he’s got ice water for blood.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Suitcase said.
Once inside, Jesse took a couple of deep breaths. He realized how narrowly he had escaped being shot. He knew the hit was the work of John Lombardo.
Jesse reached for the phone and called Gino Fish.
“Your dime,” Gino said.
“Remember our discussion about neutrality?”
“I’m listening,” Gino said.
“We need to revisit the subject.”
“Something personal?”
“We need to talk.”
“I shall look forward to it, Jesse Stone,” Gino said.
When Phyllis Canter had finished interviewing Lisa Barry, she stuck her head into Jesse’s office. She was a pleasant-looking woman of indeterminate age. Her mouth curled with a hint of a smile. Her rich brown eyes sparkled with intelligence. He stood to greet her.
“Phyllis,” he said.
“Hello, Jesse,” she said.
“How’s Lisa?”
“Better than I would have expected. She’s motivated by anger. Very likely misplaced, however.”
“Meaning?”
“May I speak shrink talk?”
“Only if you’ll provide a running translation,” Jesse said.
Dr. Canter smiled.
“Her anger is directed at her mother. For having died and abandoned her. She hasn’t dealt with that anger. Nor with her grief, either. I’d like to see her some more. I can help her.”
“When I see her father, I’ll talk to him about it,” Jesse said. “He’s not picking up his cell. I’m gonna track him down.”
“The father may very well be an emotional cretin. You need to make certain he doesn’t stand in the way. You’ll have to be at your persuasive best.”
“One emotional cretin to another,” Jesse said.
“I didn’t want to bring it up,” Dr. Canter said.
In the late afternoon, Jesse drove Lisa to her father’s office. She had mentioned that he rarely came home until late. Sometimes even after she had gone to bed.
“How did you like Dr. Canter,” Jesse said.
“She’s all right,” Lisa said.
“What did you talk about?”
“Stuff.”
“Do you want to tell me?”
“Not really.”
“Do you want to see her again?”
“Yes. Maybe. Yes.”
“So you liked her?”
“She was all right,” Lisa said.
They arrived at Leonard Barry’s office, which was located in a small warehouse on the outskirts of town. Barry was involved in some sort of import/export enterprise. A panel truck with his name painted on it was parked out front. Lisa led the way inside.
“What are you doing here,” her father said, when he saw her. “Who’s this?”
“Jesse Stone,” Jesse said. “Paradise chief of police.”
“I heard of you,” Leonard Barry said. “What can I do for you?”
He was looking at Lisa, who was looking at the floor. Jesse told him everything that had transpired at the school. He also mentioned Dr. Canter.
“Is Lisa under arrest,”