High Profile

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool. They got like this huge Quincy Market on the harbor. Lotta places to get crab cakes.”

“You detect anything?” Jesse said.

“Besides the crab cakes?” Suit said. “Yeah. I did.”

Jesse tipped his chair back and waited.

“I went to the Baltimore County police, and talked with a nice woman in the personnel department.”

H I G H P R O F I L E

“You get to her right away?”

“Pretty quick. I turned on the charm.”

“Wow,” Jesse said.

“It helps in detective work, you know, if you’re charming.”

“I didn’t know that,” Jesse said.

“Anyway, when Lutz worked there the beneficiary of his life insurance was Lorraine Pilarcik. She was on his medical insurance, too.”

“And what was her relation to him?” Jesse said.

“He listed her as his wife.”

“Lorraine,” Jesse said.

“It gets better,” Suit said.

“Good.”

“I got his address during the time he worked there and went and talked with people in his old neighborhood,” Suit said. “There were three, four people that remembered both of them. They all called her Lorrie.”

“Tell me you showed them the picture of Lorrie Weeks?”

Jesse said.

“I did.”

“And?”

“It was her.”

“Suit,” Jesse said, “you’ll probably be chief of detectives.”

“When we have a detective unit.”

“Immediately after that,” Jesse said.

“They hedged a little. You know what license photos are like. And they knew her like fifteen years ago. But they all thought it was her.”

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R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“Happy marriage?” Jesse said.

“As far as anyone can remember,” Suit said.

“When did they get divorced?”

“Nobody knew they were divorced.”

“When did they leave the old neighborhood?” Jesse said.

“Hard to pin it down, you know. But the consensus was late eighties, early nineties.”

“You find any records of divorce?”

“Nope,” Suit said. “Not in Baltimore. Got a marriage license issued to Walton Weeks and Lorrie Pilarcik, and a marriage announcement from The Baltimore Sun. August twenty-sixth, 1990.”

“They could have divorced elsewhere,” Jesse said.

“I thought of that,” Suit said.

“Okay,” Jesse said, “take your time. Enjoy it.”

“I said to myself, Why would you not get divorced locally? ”

“Because maybe they had moved to another state?” Jesse said.

“Maybe, or, I thought to myself, maybe they’re looking for a quickie. And where can you get a quickie divorce?”

“Dover-Foxcroft, Maine?” Jesse said.

“Las Vegas,” Suit said. “It did no harm to check.”

“And?”

“Lorraine Pilarcik and Conrad Lutz got a divorce on August fifteenth, after six weeks of residency in Vegas,”

Suit said.

“Eleven days before she married Walton Weeks,” Jesse said.

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H I G H P R O F I L E

“Makes your head hurt a little,” Suit said.

“It does. Did Weeks steal Lutz’s wife and continue to em ploy him as a bodyguard?”

“Maybe Lutz is a really forgiving guy,” Suit said.

“Maybe,” Jesse said.

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51

Jesse came into Sunny’s loft at nine p.m. Rosie jumped down off Sunny’s bed and hustled down the loft to see him. He picked her up and patted her stomach, and got a lap on the nose, before he put her down.

“Drink?” Sunny said.

“Sure.”

They sat in her window bay with their drinks.

“Here’s what’s going on with Jenn,” Jesse said. As Jesse talked, Rosie came over and stared up at Sunny and yapped. Still focused on Jesse’s recital, Sunny shifted a

H I G H P R O F I L E

little in the chair to make room, and Rosie jumped up and wiggled around until she was comfortable.

When Jesse finished, Sunny shook her head.

“Poor thing,” she said.

Jesse nodded.

“She seeing a shrink these days?” Sunny said.

“She has,” Jesse said. “I don’t know if she is seeing one now.”

“She should,” Sunny said. “I know someone.”

“Not everybody can do it,” Jesse said.

“She should be able to,” Sunny said. “Maybe I’ll talk to her about it.”

Jesse shrugged.

“What would you like me to do?” Sunny said.

“I have to go to New York,” Jesse said. “If you could keep her together until I get back.”

“Would you like me, or Spike, to deal with Lloyd?”

Sunny said.

“No,” Jesse said. “I’ll do that when I can. Just keep him away from her.”

Sunny got Jesse another scotch, and poured herself more white wine.

“You think Lloyd is dangerous?” Sunny said.

“I doubt it. Usually stalking is all stalkers do.”

“Except when they do more,” Sunny said.

“Except then,” Jesse said.

“We’ll be there,” Sunny said.

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R O B E R T B . P A R K E R

“Thank you.”

“How’s the double murder going?”

“It’s starting to move, I think.”

“That why you’re going to New York?”

“Yes.”

Jesse rattled the ice in his glass. Sunny sipped her wine. Rosie looked out from her spot in the chair, in back of Sunny’s hip.

“What are you going to do, Jesse?” Sunny asked.

“About Jenn?”

“Yes,” Sunny said. “Of course about Jenn.”

“I’ll take Lloyd off her back,” Jesse said.

“I’m sure you will,” Sunny said. “And then?”

Jesse drank some of his scotch and tilted his head back with his eyes closed while it eased down his throat.

“If I said to you,” Jesse said, “ ‘Sunny, will you marry me,’

what would you say?”