“How do you know a guy?”
“My shrink told me.”
“You been talking about me in therapy?” Jesse said.
Jenn laughed gently. “Of course,” she said. “Would you go talk to this guy? I can make you an appointment.”
“He a psychiatrist?”
“No. He’s not a doctor. He’s just somebody that has had some success helping people with drinking.”
“You ever meet him?”
“Yes. I went to see him.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
It went through him viscerally, shimmering along the nerve traces. Jolting his stomach. He was part of her therapy. She was trying to help him. He was still in her life. He mattered.
“If I go,” Jesse said, “I can make the appointment.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Molly was at the front desk when Jesse came into the station carrying coffee in a paper cup.
“We found Dr. Levine,” Molly said.
“Billie’s dentist.”
“Yes. Suit brought the dental chart over that we got off the body.”
“And?”
“It’s her.”
Jesse nodded. There was no satisfaction in it. He sort of wished it wasn’t Billie.
“You call that phone number from Sister Mary John?”
“Yes,” Molly said, and looked down at her notepad. “Development Associates of Boston. Nobody there ever heard of Billie.”
“Or so they say.”
Molly smiled. “Or so they say.”
“What’s the address there?” Jesse said.
Molly gave it to him. “You going to talk with them?”
“Yes.”
“Before you go we need to talk about Mr. and Mrs. Snyder,” Molly said.
“The Bickersons?”
“She’s in the hospital.”
“How bad?” Jesse said.
“Nothing fatal—concussion, couple of fractures. The ER called us.”
“Her husband put her there?”
“That’s what she told the ER doctor.”
“Didn’t we send her down there the last time we had them in?”
“Yes. They found a lot of old injuries.”
“And?”
“She swore they were skiing injuries. Said her husband didn’t hit her,” Molly said. “DeAngelo talked with an assistant DA who said if she stuck to her story, there wasn’t enough of a case.”
“I figured that,” Jesse said. “I was hoping he might get scared.”
“Booze,” Molly said.
Jesse nodded.
“So how come she’s blowing the whistle this time?”
“Maybe enough is enough,” Molly said. “Suit’s on his way there to get a statement.”
“If she sticks with it,” Jesse said, “arrest the husband, read him his rights. Call the DA’s office.”
“You going to go see the people at—” She looked down at her notebook again. “—Development Associates of Boston?”
“Yeah.”
