Stranger in Paradise

“Well, you can bunk here for the moment until we work out something better,” Jesse said. “You want something to eat?”

“I don’t know.”

Jesse nodded as if that made sense.

“Moll,” he said. “Get whoever’s on patrol to stop by Daisy’s and pick up a couple sandwiches.”

“Can I have ice cream?” Amber said.

“What kind?”

“Chocolate?”

“Sure,” Jesse said.

He looked at Molly.

“Coming up,” Molly said.

42.

The Paradise police firing range was outdoors, backing up to some wetlands and shielded by dirt bunkers that had been bulldozed. Jesse had a new Smith & Wesson .40-caliber semiautomatic handgun that he wanted to break in. He had his earmuffs off, reloading a magazine, when Crow parked on the street and walked through the short trail into the firing area.

“Officer Molly told me you were here,” Crow said.

Jesse nodded.

“You want to shoot?” he said.

“Sure,” Crow said. “Can I borrow a gun?”

Jesse smiled.

“You got a gun,” Jesse said.

“It is illegal to carry a gun in this state without a permit,” Crow said.

“You’d have a gun in the shower,” Jesse said.

Crow smiled and spread his hands. Jesse nodded.

“In this town it is legal for someone to carry a gun to the firing range and shoot with the chief of police,” Jesse said.

Crow looked steadily at Jesse for a moment. Then he nodded once, took a Glock nine-millimeter off his hip, crouched slightly, and, holding the Glock in both hands, put six rounds into the center of the target. Jesse finished loading the Smith & Wesson, turned sideways, and, firing with one hand, put six rounds into the center of the target.

“We’re good,” Crow said.

“We are.”

“You fire like an old-time target shooter,” Crow said.

“My father taught me that,” Jesse said.

“Whatever works,” Crow said.

Jesse put the Smith & Wesson down, and took his little .38 Chief’s Special off his hip.

“You can hit the target with that thing?” Crow said.

“Sometimes,” Jesse said. He began to crank the target toward them. “Especially if it’s closer.”

“Most shooting is close,” Crow said.

“Yes,” Jesse said, and put three rounds into the middle of the target.

“You didn’t empty the weapon,” Crow said.

“Neither did you,” Jesse said.

“We’re careful,” Crow said.

“Got anything to tell me about Amber Francisco and friends?” Jesse said.

“Nothing I didn’t tell Officer Molly,” Crow said.

“And you got any thoughts on what we’re gonna do with her?” Jesse said.

“You’re the serve-and-protect guy,” Crow said.

“You can’t look out for her,” Jesse said.

“’Course not,” Crow said.

“You got any thoughts on who killed her mother?” Jesse said.

“Probably Esteban,” Crow said.

“Why?”

“Figure if he’s talking to her daddy about bringing her to Florida, he may have talked to her daddy about killing her mother.”

Jesse nodded.

“So why doesn’t she say so?”

“Scared?” Crow said.

“Probably,” Jesse said. “Loyal.”

“Loyal?” Crow said. “He sold her out.”

“She’s got nothing else,” Jesse said. “She can tell herself she loves him, and maybe convince herself that he loves her, she won’t feel so alone.”

“And this is better than going back to Daddy?” Crow said.

“Apparently.”

“He must be fun,” Crow said.

“So what’re your plans,” Jesse said.

“I’m considering my options,” Crow said.

“Would one of those be to get out of town?” Jesse said.

“Not yet,” Crow said.

“Why not,” Jesse said.

“Unfinished business,” Crow said.

“You want to see this through with the kid?”

“Something like that,” Crow said.

“Let’s not get in each other’s way,” Jesse said.

“Sure,” Crow said

Jesse put the .38 back on his hip and the .40 in a small gym bag with two boxes of ammunition.

“You gonna pick up the brass?” Crow said.

“No,” Jesse said.

“Great to be chief,” Crow said.

43.

Molly and Jesse were in the squad room, drinking coffee.

“I’m sorry, Jesse,” Molly said. “I can’t take her.”

“I know,” Jesse said.

“I have a husband and four kids. I can’t impose her on them.”

“I know,” Jesse said. “I guess I’ll have to take her.”

“Yourself?”

“Can’t have her living here,” Jesse said.

“You can’t bring a fourteen-year-old girl home to live with you, Jesse, alone.”

Jesse shrugged.

“I mean, what if she claims you molested her?” Molly said.

“I’ll claim I didn’t,” Jesse said.

“But even if you can prove you didn’t, that kind of thing will cling to you for life,” Molly said. “It’s not like this is a good kid. You can’t tell what she’ll do.”

“I know.”

“So, what about that female private detective you were dating?”

“Sunny Randall?”

“Yes. How about you get her to look after the kid.”

Jesse shook his head.

“That book is closed,” Jesse said. “Right now, I don’t want to open it again.”

“You cannot take her in alone,” Molly said. “What if she’s sick, what if…you just can’t be parenting a fourteen-year-old girl that’s not your daughter.”

“Got any ideas?” Jesse said.

“How about Human Services?”

“This is not just a runaway kid,” Jesse said. “Dangerous people are after her. You can’t ask some social worker to fight it out with the Horn Street Boys…or whoever her old man sends.”

“You think he’ll send someone?”

“Crow thinks so,” Jesse said.

“And you think he’s right?” Molly said.