“Thank you,” Jesse said.
“What’s up?”
“My news director and I had a fabulous idea,” Jenn
said.
Jesse closed his eyes and put his head back against his chair.
“Every news outlet in the country is dying for some sort of
inside something on this,” Jenn said.
“I know.”
“We thought because of our, ah, connection, you know? We thought
I could come out with a cameraman and track the investigation. An inside look at the workings of a police manhunt. We would stay out of your way. And when you catch the guy we’d have a whole series
about it, and maybe a special, and maybe we could sell it to one of the national outlets …”
“No,” Jesse said.
“Oh, I know, Jesse. Believe me I know what an imposition it is.
But we’d stay out of the way, and, Jesse, it would mean so much to
my career.”
Jesse still had his eyes closed and his head back.
In a soft voice, he said, “No, Jenn,” and put the phone back in
its cradle.
37
Chuck Pennington was an architect. He had been an intercollegiate boxing champion at Harvard and still looked in shape.
He must have been pretty good, Jesse thought.
There’s not a mark on his face.
He had thick black hair brushed straight back. He wore a rust-colored tweed jacket and a blue oxford shirt. He sat with Jesse in the living room of the house he’d designed, with his wife
and daughter and a lawyer named Sheldon Resnick. Molly Crane sat near the door. Through the glass back wall of the living room Jesse could look a long way out over the Atlantic Ocean. Mrs. Pennington was speaking.
“We wanted to spare you this,” she said to her husband. “We know
how important your work is.”
“My daughter is more important than my work,” Pennington said.
“But we can put that aside for the moment and listen to Chief Stone.”
“You promised to keep my daughter’s name out of this,” Mrs.
Pennington said.
“I did what I promised your daughter I would do,” Jesse
said.
“You spoke to her without me?” Mrs.
Pennington
said.
“It seemed the only way I could,” Jesse said.
“Sheldon,” she said. “I want you
to make that clear to this
policeman that we will not tolerate scandal.”
“Mr. Stone has been nice to me,” Candace said.
“Candace, you be quiet,” Mrs. Pennington said.
“No, Margaret,” Pennington said.
“You are the one that has to be
quiet.”
“Chuck …”
“This didn’t happen to you,”
Pennington said. “It happened to
Candace. It matters what Candace wants.”
“My God, Chuck, she’s
