“Big fucking deal,” he said.
“Restraining orders don’t mean shit and you know it.”
“Yes, sir,” Jesse said. “I
know.”
“I go to court with my lawyer. They issue a new rcstraining order. I walk out of court twenty minutes later.”
“That‘’s how it usually works,
sir,” Jesse said pleasantly,
“especially if you’ve got some
money.”
“Which I do,” Jo Jo said. “And
some clout and I can come in here and grab her crotch, or whatever else I want to grab, anytime I goddamned want to.”
“Is that tight.‘?” Carole said
to Jesse.
Jesse shook his head.
“Oh7” Jo Jo said. “You just
admired you couldn’t do shit about it.”
“No, sir,” Jesse said. “I said
the restraining order probably wouldn’t work.”
“Same thing,” Jo Jo said.
“Not really,” Jesse said, and kicked JoJo in the groin.
The movement seemed casual. But it was a very quick movement.
And hard. Jo Jo gasped and doubled up and fell over and lay on the pale blue flowered carpet of the den and moaned. Jesse bent over him with a look of blank disinterest and grasped Jo Jo’s hair with his left hand and held his head up and put his face very close to Jo Jo’s and spoke to him.
“You’re all mouth and show
muscle,” Jesse said gently.
“If you come-near this woman again, or if anything happens to her or her kids, no matter what, and no matter whose fault it is, I will kick you around town until you look like roadkill. And if you are annoying, like you were today, maybe VII shoot you.”
Jesse tapped Jo Jo on the bridge of the nose with the muzzle of his revolver. “Right here… capeesh?”
Jo Jo was still moaning.
“Answer me, Jo Jo,” Jesse said.
“Or I will kick you in the balls again. Capeesh?”
Jo Jo squeezed the word “capeesh” out
between moans.
Jesse let Jo Jo’s head go and it thumped on the rug.
Jesse stood up.
“Suitcase, you and Anthony stay here until Mr.
Genest has gone,” Jesse said. “Ma’am, you should probably get those kids to a shrink.”
Carole’s eyes were wide and bright. There was a flush of color on her cheekbones, as if she had a fever.
“What if he comes back,” she said.
“I don’t think he’ll come
back,” Jesse said.
He turned and walked out of the house and down the driveway to his car.
Behind him he heard Suitcase Simpson say, “Jesus Christ!”
Taylor.
“The selectmen have asked me to talk with you,” she said.
“Good,” Jesse said.
She was wearing a black suit with a long jacket and a shot skirt. At least she didn’t have on oe of those frilly neck pieces that some professional women wore like a pretend necktie; her white blouse was open at the neck. Her briefcase was on the floor leaning against the leg of her chair. She wore black high-heeled shoes.
Jesse thought her ankles were very nice.
“I’m speaking now as town
counsel,” Abby Taylor said carefully.
