I nodded to indicate we were doing fine.
'My name's Jesse Stone,' he said. 'I'm the chief here in Paradise.'
He didn't look like a small-town cop. Something about the eyes and the way he walked.
'Nice to meet you,' I said.
Behind his Oakleys, Hawk did not appear to be looking at Stone.
'You been sitting here since seven-thirty this morning,' Stone said.
'Pretty good,' I said. 'You picked us up fast.'
'We got a nice little department here,' Stone said. 'I don't wish to intrude, but what are you doing?'
'My name's Spenser,' I said.
'I know. We already ran your plates.'
'I'm trying to locate Sonny Karnofsky's daughter, Bonnie,' I said. 'There's a state cop named Healy can probably vouch for me.'
'I know Healy,' Stone said. 'He still doing vice?'
'He never did vice,' I said. 'He's at One Thousand Ten Commonwealth. Homicide Commander.'
Stone smiled slightly. 'Why do you want Bonnie Karnofsky?'
'Long story,' I said. 'The short version is we think she's a witness in a murder investigation.'
Stone nodded. 'You want coffee?' he said.
'Sure,' I said.
Without speaking, Hawk held up two fingers. Stone smiled again.
'Cream and sugar?'
'Both,' I said.
'I'll be back in a couple minutes,' Stone said.
He walked back to his car.
'He ain't no small-town shit-kicker,' Hawk said.
'I know.'
Stone reached into his car through the open side window, took out the radio mike, talked for a couple minutes, and put it back. Then he strolled toward the snack bar. While he was gone, five cars crossed the causeway, none of them registered to Sonny. In a few more minutes, he came back from the snack bar carrying three cups of coffee in a cardboard carrying tray. Balancing the coffee comfortably, Stone got in the backseat, sat, and distributed the coffee.
'Healy tell you I was everything a crime fighter should be?' I said.
'No. He said you'd probably do more good than harm.'
'Ringing endorsement,' Hawk said.
Stone nodded at Hawk. 'He said you should be in jail.'
'Nice of you to check,' Hawk said.
With a pocket knife, Stone cut a little hole in the plastic lid of his coffee cup. He drank some coffee.
'Tell me the long story,' Stone said.
I told him the story, editing out the shooting at Taft. He listened soundlessly. Three more cars passed us on the causeway. None of them Sonny's. When I was through, Stone stayed quiet for awhile, drinking his coffee.
'Sonny hasn't got her,' he said finally.
'You know that,' I said.
'Yeah.'
'You know where she is?'
'No.'
'How do you know she doesn't live with Sonny?' I said.
'Sonny's lived here awhile; we like to keep tabs on him.'
'You've had him under surveillance?' I said.
'Yep.'
'Has he spotted you?'
'Nope.'
'How are you doing it?'
'One of his neighbors is a good sport,' Stone said.
