Molly said.
Jesse nodded. “Control might become sort of an issue for some
women,” Jesse said.
“If they are with a controlling man,”
Molly said.
“You do a lot of thinking,” Jesse said.
“For an Irish Catholic
cop.”
“An Irish Catholic married female mother of three kids
small-town cop,” Molly said.
“Exactly,” Jesse said.
“So,” Molly said, “I’m
going to haunt them.”
“Just do everything right,” Jesse said,
“so if they did do it,
we don’t lose them.”
“I know.”
“And don’t forget that these may be high school kids but they
are bigger and stronger than you are.”
“It’s a thing women never, ever
forget,” Molly
said.
“Duh,” Jesse said. “I guess
that’s pretty much what you’ve been
telling me.”
“Pretty much,” Molly said, and smiled at him. “Don’t get
nervous, though. I won’t keep telling you.”
15
The woman’s body lay on its side, at the far end of the parking
lot in the Paradise Mall. Her head was jammed against the rear tire of a silver Volvo Cross Country wagon. A shopping cart full of groceries stood nose-in against the black Audi sedan next to the Volvo. Jesse sat on his heels beside Peter Perkins and looked at her.
“Two in the chest,” Perkins said.
“Look like small-caliber to
me.”
“Just like Kenneth Eisley,” Jesse said.
“At first look,” Perkins said.
“Keys were in her hand,” Jesse said.
“And she dropped them when
she was shot.”
“She probably popped the rear gate with the remote on her key
chain,” Perkins said. “Rear gate is unlatched but not
open.”
Jesse looked at the unemptied shopping cart. Behind them several
people, attracted by the blue lights on the patrol cars, stood in silence, held away from the crime scene by Simpson and deAngelo. In the distance a siren sounded.
“That’ll be the EMTs,” Perkins
said.
“She doesn’t need them anymore.”
“No,” Perkins said. “But they
can haul her away.”
Jesse nodded.
“So,” he said. “She food shops
