Killing the Blues - Michael Brandman [6]
It was scrawny, as Healy had observed. Hungry, too. When it saw Jesse through the window, it mewed loudly.
Jesse went into the kitchen and scrounged up his one can of tuna fish. He opened it and scraped the contents into a bowl, which he then carried outside.
The cat eyed him warily from the bushes.
Jesse placed the bowl on the deck. Then he went back inside and closed the doors. He watched to see what the cat would do next.
After several moments, it stood up and stretched itself languorously. Then it suddenly sat back down and began to vigorously lick one of its paws. It stood up again and began to inch its way toward the house.
The cat stopped inching when it reached the top step of the porch. There it sat down, all the while keeping its eyes on both the door and the bowl.
It stayed that way for several minutes.
Satisfied that no one was lying in wait, the cat sidled up to the bowl.
At first it only sniffed the tuna. Then it licked it. Then it tentatively picked up a morsel and, after dropping it on the deck, crouched down and ate it.
Following a brief moment of indecision, it returned to the bowl and gobbled the rest.
Jesse smiled.
He left the house and went to work.
It was late afternoon when Molly called out to Jesse that Captain Cronjager, his old boss from the LAPD, was on line one.
He couldn’t imagine why Cronjager would be calling him. They hadn’t spoken since the captain had phoned to congratulate him on getting the job in Paradise. Which had been years ago.
When he picked up the call, he was greeted with Cronjager’s familiar sandpaper gargle.
“Stone,” he said. “How the hell are you?”
“Better since I gave up hope,” Jesse said.
Cronjager laughed heartily.
“To what do I owe the honor,” Jesse said.
“Do you remember a dickhead called Rollo Nurse,” Cronjager said.
“Remind me,” Jesse said.
“He was the lughead you busted during a botched robbery attempt just before I shitcanned you.”
“Eloquently stated,” Jesse said.
“In case your memory needs jarring, you weren’t having one of your better days when you busted this guy. You managed to rough him up pretty good.”
“I roughed up a lot of guys pretty good when I worked for you.”
“Yeah, well, I thought you might like to know that this particular dirtbag got out of Lompoc on an early-release program. Seems that California is going broke, and the governor chose to spit out a fair-sized portion of the prison population in the interest of saving the state some dough. Rollo Nurse was one of them.”
“And you’re telling me this because . . .” Jesse said.
“Given what you did to him, he probably hasn’t forgotten. And now he’s out. One of the Lompoc bulls thinks he’s gone unhinged. We think he’s the type who might come looking for you.”
“And what makes you think he would know how to find me,” Jesse said.
“If he can work a computer, he could find you,” Cronjager said.
“How?” Jesse said.
“He could Google you,” Cronjager said. “I did it myself.”
“Google me,” Jesse said.
“Yep,” Cronjager said.
“Shit,” Jesse said.
“Yeah,” Cronjager said.
“Google,” Jesse said. “What does it say?”
“It lists you. Jesse Stone, Chief of Police, Paradise, Mass.”
“Whatever happened to privacy,” Jesse said.
“It went the way of the Pontiac,” Cronjager said. “He knows where you are.”
“Or not,” Jesse said.
“Or not,” Cronjager said. “In any event, forewarned is whatever the hell it is.”
“Thanks for this, Captain,” Jesse said.
“Don’t mention it, big guy. Healy tells me you’re doing good out there. I’m happy for you.”
Then the line went dead as Cronjager ended the call. Jesse sat quietly for a while.
“Rich Bauer on line one,” Molly said, calling out to Jesse from her desk.
Jesse picked up the call.
“What’s up, Rich,” Jesse said.
“We got another one, Skipper. This one’s bad.”
6
Jesse, with Suitcase beside him, spotted the flashing lights of