Fool Me Twice Page 16
The gun skittered away as Oscar fell forward, Jesse on top of him. He lifted Oscar’s head and slammed his face into the floor. Oscar screamed.
“Fool me twice, indeed,” Jesse said.
He grabbed a plastic restraint from his jacket and cuffed Oscar’s hands together behind him.
He then looked at Goodwin, who continued to bleed profusely from the gunshot wound in his neck.
Goodwin raised his head and looked at Jesse, opening his mouth as if to speak. But before he could say anything, he fell backward, dead before he hit the floor.
Jesse stood. He picked up Oscar’s pistol and gathered up his Colt and the Smith & Wesson.
Then he took out his cell phone and punched in the number for the station.
59
After Goodwin’s body had been removed, LaBrea apprehended, and the EMTs had left the scene, Jesse was alone in the house with Captain Healy.
“It won’t be pretty once the media gets wind of it,” Healy said.
“It won’t be,” Jesse said.
“How much did he get away with,” he said.
“LaBrea?”
“Yes.”
“Goodwin didn’t know.”
“How much did Goodwin take?”
“Also unknown.”
“But he felt justified.”
“Totally.”
“Self-righteous little bastard.”
“He was, wasn’t he?”
“Such an odd story,” Healy said.
“A sad one.”
“What about the woman, what’s her name again?”
“Ida Fearnley.”
“What’s in store for her?”
“Loneliness. Sadness. She’ll be devastated by Goodwin’s death.”
“But she was an accessory,” Healy said.
“To his crimes, yes.”
“Jail time?”
“That’ll be up to a jury.”
The two men headed for the door.
“You’d think it would have gotten someone’s attention,” Healy said.
“You’d think,” Jesse said. “But he’d been in charge for decades. He was an icon. The personification of bureaucratic autonomy. Who was going to challenge him?”
“The harder they fall,” Healy said.
“Exactly.”
“You knew him?”
“Some. He was a strange little guy. But he made his arguments with passion and conviction. He sure got himself into my head. I can’t rid myself of the image of the one and a half gallons of clean water it takes to flush away less than an ounce of piss. That’s ultimately why I reached out to Rita. I thought that even if the messenger was corrupt, the message would speak loudly enough to be heard.”
Healy didn’t say anything.
“The only message people will hear now is the one in which still yet another public official went rogue and managed to enrich himself at the expense of the taxpayers.”
“You okay,” Healy said.
“Disheartened.”
“Life’s a bitch.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Jesse said.
—
Jesse called Rita Fiore.
“I heard,” she said, when she picked up the call. “Sounded awful.”
“Sad.”
“You want to tell me about it?”
Jesse swiveled his chair around so that he was facing the window.
“Goodwin rode the moral high ground to the end, which infuriated LaBrea, who assumed that because Goodwin didn’t use the money for his personal enrichment and he did, he was going to be the fall guy.”
“Meaning?”
“Goodwin would somehow be absolved and LaBrea would go to jail.”
“Why did he do it?”
“Do what?”
“Shoot Goodwin.”
“Goodwin had disavowed him. Left him dangling. They argued, but neither of them gave in. Finally he just went berserk.”
“Goodwin was such a sorry man.”
“But guilty as charged. Although strangely innocent at the same time.”
“You can’t beat yourself up over this, Jesse.”
“Did you speak with Aaron,” Jesse said.
“He’s petitioning the court. Wants to place a lien on all of their assets.”
Neither of them spoke.
“What about Ida,” Jesse said at last.
“I’ll still represent her.”
“Because?”
“I’m not completely certain, to tell you the truth. Maybe it’s a woman thing. She’s definitely going to lose her job, but I sympathize with her. She barely knew what was going on. She was totally devoted to the guy and paid a steep price for it.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“I’ll argue for no jail time and for her to retain her pension.”
“What are the chances?”
“You have to ask that question?”
“I forgot myself.”
“You did the right thing, Jesse.”
“It always comes as a shock,” he said.
“What does?”
“The aberrational behavior of the human race.”
“Tends to get you down, doesn’t it?”
“Makes you wonder why you even try.”
“But somehow you manage to dust yourself off and get back into it.”
“Somehow you do.”
“Which is what separates you from them,” Rita said.
“That doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No,” she said. “That doesn’t make it any easier.”
60
Courtney was already at work when Jesse arrived.
“She showed up early,” Molly said. “You’re sure this is the right thing to do?”
“Can’t hurt.”
“She’s still unrepentant.”
“But a work in progress nonetheless.”
Jesse found her dusting the squad room.
“You ready,” he said.
“Yes.”
She put the cleaning equipment away, and together they walked to the parking lot and got into Jesse’s cruiser.
They headed for the downtown recreational center.
“Why are we doing this again,” she said.
“Part of your community service.”
“I know that. But why this?”
“I thought it might be interesting.”
She didn’t say anything.
They arrived at the center, parked, and went inside.
It was Family Day, and the place was packed.
Jesse was on the lookout for Pastor Charles Tompkins, who turned out to be a burly man in his late thirties, pink-skinned and balding, wearing oversized blue jeans and a heather-gray sweatshirt that read, “If You’re Not the Solution to the Problem, Step Aside.”
“Jesse,” he said, a big grin lighting up his face.
“Pastor,” Jesse said. “I want you to meet Courtney Cassidy.”
“Pastor Chuck,” he said as he grasped Courtney’s hand. “Jesse’s told me a lot about you.”
Courtney looked at Jesse.
“All good,” Pastor Chuck said. “All good.”
He smiled.
“I’m glad you could make it on Family Day. We hold one every month. The neighborhood turns out in droves for it.”
As the pastor spoke, he led them on a tour of the center.
“We offer all kinds of organized activities. Arts and crafts, computer study, exercise classes. We have a small library facility and a story time. We provide them a wholesome lunch. We keep a special eye on the children. We monitor how they interact with the other members of their family, and in this way, we come to understand the family’s dynamic. If the children act out, we see it, and can try to figure out why. We’re always on the lookout for families that seem troubled. When we feel it’s necessary, we intervene. We’ve been able to provide anticipatory aid to a lot of people.”
Courtney and Jesse followed Pastor Chuck as he made the rounds. People
greeted him warmly as he passed. Children raced to hug him. He seemed to know everyone’s name.
Pastor Chuck noticed that Courtney seemed attuned to the tension that existed in some of the families. Different from the ease and joyousness of others. These differences were palpable. He invited her to join the activities. When she agreed, he gave her an apron, introduced her to the director of food services, and asked her to assist in serving the lunch.
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” she said to the pastor. “It makes me nervous.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll do fine.”
The families began to move through the service line. Courtney was put in charge of the desserts. There were three of them. Chocolate pudding, brownies, and fruit salad. She soon got caught up in the rhythm of serving, and she performed earnestly and well.
Afterward, Pastor Chuck invited her to sit with two families that turned out to be related. Each of them had three children. Only one had a male parent present.
She watched how the children all clamored for the attention of their parents.
In the family with both parents present, they each tried to give equal attention to their children.
The single-parent family didn’t, and as a result, the two older children were dominant. They jousted with each other over the attentions of their lone parent, each child more demanding than the other.
The youngest child couldn’t compete. She was withdrawn. She sat alone. She didn’t seek attention.
Jesse noticed Courtney watching the little girl.
After a while, Courtney slid over to her and whispered in her ear.
“I’m Courtney,” she said.
She offered the little girl her hand.
The little girl looked up at her. Then she took Courtney’s hand and shook it emphatically. She didn’t say anything.
“What’s your name,” Courtney said.
“Ariel,” the girl whispered.
“That’s a nice name.”
The girl was silent.
“Who’s this,” Courtney said, pointing to the stuffed animal that the girl was holding tightly to her chest.
The girl relaxed a bit and showed the animal to Courtney.
“This is Arthur,” she said.
“Arthur’s a nice name, too.”
Ariel nodded.
“May I see Arthur?”
After a while, Ariel hesitantly handed Arthur to Courtney.
Courtney made a show of shaking one of Arthur’s paws. She held him up for everyone to see. The other children stopped what they were doing and watched. Then Courtney handed Arthur back to Ariel, who clutched him proudly. She was all smiles.
Courtney looked at Jesse.
He smiled at her.
Later, on their way back to the station, Jesse mentioned the incident.
“What made you do it,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Talk to her.”
“I understood how she felt.”
“How so?”
“I know what it’s like to be alone in the middle of your family.”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“That’s pretty intense, huh,” she said.
“It is.”
“I’d like to do this again.”
“You mean go to Family Day.”
“Yes. Pastor Chuck said it comes around once every month.”
“It does.”
They pulled up in front of the station. Jesse turned off the motor.
Courtney looked at him.
“This was good,” she said.
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“You’re not so bad.”
“Don’t jump to any sudden conclusions.”
She smiled.
She opened the door and got out of the cruiser.
Then she leaned back in through the open window.
“Thank you,” she said.
He smiled.
61
Frankie Greenberg was sitting up, sipping cranberry juice through a straw, when Jesse stuck his head into her room.
“All right to come in?”
“Jesse,” she said, smiling.
Jesse walked to her bedside and cautiously planted a kiss on her forehead.
“I’m not fragile, you know,” she said.
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“My dad says you’ve been hanging around here a lot.”
Jesse pulled a chair alongside her bed and sat down. Most of the machines were gone. A lonely IV was still attached to the back of her hand.
“How are you feeling?”
“I have nothing to compare it to, but they tell me I could be feeling a whole lot worse.”
“You had us going.”
“That’s what Dad says.”
“You’ve got some color now.”
“And I didn’t before?”
“Does the expression ‘pale as a ghost’ mean anything to you?”
“That bad?”
“That bad.”
“I still can’t believe Marisol’s dead. I feel awful.”
“We all do. He had just a sliver of an opening, and he somehow managed to jump through it.”
“You caught him?”
“Crow did.”
“But not without your help.”
Jesse smiled.
“I hear they’re flying you home,” he said.
“In the morning. Sometimes it’s good to work for a big studio.”
She looked at him.
“I feel that we’re incomplete, Jesse,” she said. “You and me. We were interrupted and now can’t find our way back.”
“Get well, Frankie. L.A. isn’t the moon.”
A tear rolled down her cheek.
“I wish I felt like I had been lucky,” she said.
“You were incredibly lucky. He came within inches of killing you, too.”
“Then why am I so sad?”
“Because Marisol’s gone and you’re not. Survivor’s guilt.”
They were silent for a while.
“Will I ever see you again, Jesse?”
“Of course you will,” he said.
“You’re not just saying that?”
“I’m not just saying that.”
She leaned back into her pillows and closed her eyes. Soon she was asleep.
Before he left, he tenderly kissed her good-bye.
62
Jesse pulled into his spot in front of the footbridge. He got out of the cruiser, opened the back door, and grabbed the take-out dinner from Daisy’s. Real football food. Buffalo wings, cheese fries, and a pair of chili dogs. A six-pack of Rolling Rock waited for him in the fridge.
He crossed the bridge and went into the house.
Within seconds, Mildred was at his feet.
He walked into the living room and turned on the TV. USC vs. Oregon. The game was just beginning. He had been looking forward to it all week.
He put the take-out bag in the oven to keep it warm.
He went upstairs and changed clothes, then came back down and fed a sumptuous meal to Mildred, which she ate as if she had never eaten before.
He cracked a bottle of Rolling Rock and sat down to watch the game.
Suddenly he was aware of how tired he was. The events of the last few days had worn him down. Life in a small town was tougher than he imagined it would be.
But he had to admit that he liked it. He liked living in Paradise. More than he ever did L.A. He found himself surprisingly content. Like it was home.
Finished with her after-dinner bath, Mildred jumped onto Jesse’s lap. She looked at him expectantly. He reached over and scratched her neck. Soon she was asleep.
Jesse’s eyes closed, too, and when he opened them, it was the second half and the score was tied.
He kept them open for the rest of the game.
—
For a complete list of this author’s books click here or visit www.penguin.com/parkerchecklist
AC
KNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to Melanie Mintz, Joanna Miles, David Chapman, and Miles Brandman for all of their efforts on behalf of the manuscript.
Thanks to Tom Distler for his wise and generous counsel.
A tip of the hat to David Parker.
Thanks to Tom Selleck and the entire Jesse Stone film family.
My most heartfelt gratitude to Christine Pepe, whose undying quest for excellence is inspirational.
And a most appreciative nod to Helen Brann for her kind and loving support.