“Are you okay?” she said.
“Physically? Sure,” Jesse said.
“Small caliber, good
vest.”
“Still, someone tried to kill you.”
“I know.”
“And they did kill one of your men.”
“Yes.”
“And they got away,” Jenn said.
“So far,” Jesse said.
Jenn was quiet for a moment.
“You must feel awful,” she said.
“I try not to feel too much,” Jesse said.
“How’s the drinking?” Jenn said.
“I don’t drink anymore,” Jesse
said.
Jenn nodded.
“Did you have to tell Anthony’s
family?”
Jesse nodded.
“His wife,” Jesse said.
“Was it bad?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure you don’t feel
awful?” Jenn
said.
Jesse shrugged and looked out the window at the press scrum.
Then he took in some air, and looked back at Jenn and said,
“Yes. I guess, in fact, I do.”
“Of course you do,” she said.
“May I say
something?”
“If I said no, you’d say it
anyway.”
Jenn smiled.
“Yes,” she said. “I suppose I
would.”
She paused and pressed her face for a moment into her semi-cupped hands and rubbed her eyes, as if she were very tired.
Then she raised her head and took a breath.
“I am very sorry I tried to impose upon our relationship to get
a break on this serial killer story,” she said.
“You didn’t need
that. You shouldn’t have had to address that. I was wrong and stupid to ask.”
Jesse smiled faintly.
“Wrong and stupid?”
he said.
“Yes. I was thinking only about myself. I should have been
thinking about you. I’m very sorry.”
Jesse said nothing for a time.
Then he said, “Thank you, Jenn.”
