kill one of the victims, and killed the others just to make us think it was random.”
“If that were the case,” Abby said,
“maybe the killings have
stopped.”
Jesse shrugged.
“Do you have a guess?”
“I try not to,” Jesse said.
“Sure, but you’re not just a
cop,” Abby said. “You are, after
all, also a person.”
“I’m better at being a cop. And
it’s best if cops don’t
hope.”
Abby was quiet for a moment. There was a break in the cloud cover and the moonlight shone briefly on the harbor, where the whitecaps were breaking, and the boats tossed at mooring. She sipped a little of the pear brandy. It was so intense that it seemed to evaporate on her tongue.
“I’m not so sure,” Abby said
after a time, “that you’re a better
cop than a person.”
“Lousy cop too?” Jesse said.
“No. You know that’s not what I
meant.”
“I know,” Jesse said. “Thank
you.”
They looked quietly at the foreboding whitecaps.
“I don’t feel good about breaking up with you the way I did,”
Abby said.
“You needed to break up with me,” Jesse said. “I am not really
available to anyone until I resolve all this with Jenn.”
“I know, but my timing wasn’t good. You were in trouble and I
…” Abby made a fluttery motion with her hand.
“It’s okay, Abby.”
She turned toward him and put her face up.
“It wasn’t okay,” she said and
kissed him hard with her mouth
open.
From a great distance, his ironic nonparticipant self smiled and
thought whoops! He kissed her back.
In bed she was urgent, and when the urgency had passed for both
of them, they lay side by side on their backs.
“Now it’s okay,” Abby said
softly.
“A proper good-bye?” Jesse said.
“I suppose so.”
“You’re still living with that
guy?” Jesse said.
“Yes … he’s out of town
tonight. Chicago.”
“You thinking of marrying him?”
“Yes.”
“You love him?”
“Oh God, Jesse, you’re such a fucking romantic.”
