She smiled and headed for the exit.
Crow stood. He looked briefly at Jesse.
“Mr. Crow,” Jesse said.
“I’d appreciate it if you would call me that, too,” Crow said.
Then he hurried over to Marisol and accompanied her out of the tent.
“She’s happy,” Frankie said.
“Seems that way.”
“She hasn’t heard from him all week. She told me he’s gone camping.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“She said that Crow made her feel safe.”
“He tends to do that.”
Frankie looked at her watch.
“We’re almost back. I have to go speak with the First AD.”
They stood, and Jesse walked with her to the AD trailer.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so preoccupied,” Frankie said.
“I understand.”
“I’ll call you.”
She kissed him lightly and then disappeared into the trailer.
39
Ryan waited until dark before returning to the cottage. It was Sunday, and the movie company would be at rest until tomorrow.
He drove by the shooting location and saw only a single vehicle parked in front of it. He assumed it belonged to the security officer assigned to look after the equipment, who had more than likely made himself comfortable inside.
Ryan continued past the cottage.
Once out of sight, he turned the Prius around, driving past the location until he reached the cottage closest to the intersection of Lakeside Drive and Fisherman’s Road. This cottage, too, had been closed up for the winter.
He turned into the driveway and headed for the back. Once there, he got out of the car and walked to the detached garage. He pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, jimmied the lock, and opened the door. He backed the Prius inside. He reached for his backpack and closed the garage door behind him.
Using the cottages on his side of the road as cover, he made his way past the location, stopping across the way from the cottage he had chosen. When he was certain that no one was watching, he ran across the road.
He walked to the rear of the cottage and opened the kitchen door, which he had earlier left unlocked.
Once inside, he emptied his backpack. He had brought a two-day supply of food, which he placed in a kitchen cabinet.
Then he went to the smaller of the two bedrooms, where he unloaded the rest of his things.
He picked up his .38-caliber Beretta automatic pistol and press-checked it. He placed it on the night table.
He looked at his watch. It was three-fifteen a.m. He yawned.
He lay down and made himself comfortable.
He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when he pulled the trigger.
40
When Courtney came out of the main building of the Wilburforce School, she was surprised by the sight of Jesse Stone standing beside his cruiser.
“What are you doing,” she said to him.
“Working on my tan.”
“No. I mean what are you doing here?”
Jesse looked at her.
“Waiting for you.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know.”
“So why are you waiting for me?”
“What did you think of the hearing?”
“I think I was railroaded.”
“‘Railroaded’?”
“Yes.”
“Do you even know what the word means?”
“I was dealt with unfairly.”
“It was your mother, right?”
“My mother what?”
“Who used the word.”
Courtney didn’t say anything.
“I guess the arrogance is hereditary.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You weren’t railroaded, Courtney. No one was out to get you.”
She shifted uncomfortably.
“The first thing that has to happen, if you’re going to learn anything from this, is that you have to accept responsibility for what you did.”
Jesse moved away from his car and stood face-to-face with her.
“You made a mistake. Several of them. But what’s done is done. Now you have to admit those mistakes and take responsibility for them.”
“Why are you hassling me this way? Isn’t it enough that you made me lose my license, and now I have to walk everywhere? That I have to endure six months of some stupid community service?”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“Why are you so exasperating,” Courtney said.
“It’s time for you to learn that you’re not acting in your own best interests.”
“I don’t have to listen to this crap.” She turned away from him.
“You’d do yourself a favor if you took what I’m saying seriously,” he said. “You can’t help yourself if you don’t first recognize that you need help.”
Courtney started to walk away. Over her shoulder, she called back to him.
“Screw you,” she said.
“My point exactly,” he said.
41
It was early Monday evening when Jesse pulled up in front of the Community Services Building. He made his way to William Goodwin’s office.
Ida Fearnley greeted him warily.
“He’s waiting,” she said.
She ushered him inside, where he found Goodwin standing at his desk. Beside him stood Oscar LaBrea, pointing a short-barreled Ruger .45-millimeter automatic pistol at Jesse.
Ida remained in the room, closing the door behind her and leaning against it.
