Then she walked away.
Courtney looked around.
“This is okay,” she said.
“Surprising you haven’t been here before.”
“My parents would never come to a place like this.”
“Why not?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
She scanned the crowded restaurant.
“Is Daisy a friend of yours?”
“She is. I was the first one in line on the day she opened.”
“Really?”
“Yep. She’s been clogging my arteries for nearly five years now.”
“I still don’t know why you’re taking me to lunch,” she said.
“Everybody’s gotta eat lunch. Particularly if they’re performing physical labor.”
Daisy returned with the burgers and shakes.
“If need be,” she said, “I can have EMTs here within minutes.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Jesse said.
He topped his burger with ketchup, mustard, onions, relish, and hot sauce. Courtney stared at him, wide- eyed.
“You’re going to eat that,” she said.
Jesse smiled and took a huge bite. He chewed it contentedly.
“You just going to stare at yours,” he said between bites.
She gingerly put some ketchup on her burger and took a bite. Then she took another.
“This is pretty good,” she said.
“Best turkey burger in Massachusetts.”
They ate in silence for a while.
“Are you watching the playoffs,” Jesse said.
“What playoffs?”
“The baseball playoffs.”
“Ugh.”
“You mean you don’t like baseball?”
“I don’t like sports.”
“What do you like?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what you like?”
After a few moments, Courtney said, “I like to read.”
“Read as in books?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“What do I like to read?”
“Yes.”
“I like Margaret Mead.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“I like
“Which part?”
“All of it. She was awesome.”
They finished their lunches and pushed their plates away.
“Good,” Jesse asked.
“Really good,” Courtney said.
Afterward, they climbed back into the cruiser and headed for the station.
Jesse stopped only once to ticket an illegally parked Mercedes. Then he got back in the cruiser.
“I love to nail a Mercedes,” he said.
“Why?”
“The parking ticket is a great equalizer. Rich or poor, you gotta pay it.”
“My mom says poor people don’t drive Mercedes.”
“Not usually, no.”
“So it’s a rich person who just got the ticket?”
“More than likely, yeah. Rich people hate having to pay tickets.”
She thought about that for a while.
Jesse dropped her off at the station. She got out of the cruiser, then looked back at him through the open window.
“You gonna tell me why?”
“Why we had lunch?”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to be spending some time together over the next few months, and I thought it would benefit us both if we explored our human sides.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I’m the police chief and you’re a detainee. Technically we’re on opposite sides of the law. But if we get to know each other, we might think of ourselves more as people and less as antagonists.”
Courtney was quiet.
“Understanding each other will make both of us less defensive and more receptive to the other’s ideas and opinions.”
“You’re a funny guy, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. See you next week.”
She watched as he drove away.
57
Rita Fiore’s silver Lexus convertible was parked in front of the footbridge. Jesse got out of his cruiser and walked over to it. He found Rita sitting inside. She lowered the driver’s-side window.
“Am I intruding,” she said.
“Not at all.”
“You’re certain?”
“Completely.”
“May I come in?”
“Either that or you can stay in the car and we’ll keep talking to each other through the window.”
Rita smiled.
She got out of the Lexus, and together they crossed the bridge.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You won’t like it.”
“How could I not like it,” he asked as he opened the door and ushered her inside.
“Wait,” she said.
Jesse removed his Colt Commander from its holster and placed it on the kitchen counter.
Rita settled herself into one of his two leather chairs. She looked around.
“Nice house.”
Jesse smiled.
Mildred Memory trotted downstairs and began circling Jesse’s legs, her tail twitching in the air. He reached
