“What made her special?”
“I don’t know,” Levy said.
“Did he have an explanation?”
“He simply said that he loved her, and had never loved anyone else.”
“You talk with her?”
“Yes.”
“She deserve it?” Jesse said.
“I don’t know that deserve is an issue in these kinds of situations,” Levy said. “She seemed to reciprocate.”
“So it wasn’t because she was, for lack of a better word, better than all the others?”
Levy looked at Jesse for a moment.
“No, often in these matters, flaws are the appeal.”
“How about in this case?”
“I don’t know,” Levy said.
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H I G H P R O F I L E
“But if you weren’t agnostic about it, you could probably say that we love who we love whether we should or not, even though there are more suitable people to love.”
“Are we still talking about Mr. Weeks?” Levy said. Jesse was silent for a moment. He could feel his heartbeat; he was aware of his own breathing. Then he smiled at Levy.
“No,” Jesse said. “We’re not.”
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33
It was a little after noon. Jesse and Suit were having sandwiches and coffee at Daisy’s Restaurant. Daisy herself was being interviewed by a woman in front of a television camera.
“Still news?” Jesse said to the waitress.
“Now it’s follow-up,” the waitress said. “You know, how has the discovery of a body in your Dumpster affected your business and your life.”
“I thought Daisy hated the press,” Suit said.
“I guess she don’t,” the waitress said. “We got rhubarb pie for dessert. You want me to save you some.”
“Please,” Jesse said.
H I G H P R O F I L E
“The poor bastard,” Suit said.
“Weeks?”
“Yeah, he finally finds the girl of his dreams and she’s finally pregnant and somebody comes along and dumps them
