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to you, too.”
    â€œRobert Lopresti and Santino Valazza.”
    â€œSantino as in Sonny Corleone?”
    â€œNice existential leap.”
    â€œI’m trying to live down the dolt sobriquet.”
    â€œSobriquet?”
    â€œGuy can’t try too hard.”
    â€œValazza and Lopresti.”
    â€œDoes this have something to do with what I think it has to do with?”
    â€œElliptical, aren’t we.”
    â€œMight take me a while. I’m the state homicide commander, and I do have work of my own.”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œSome. But I’ve put your name at the top of my to-do list.”
    â€œGee, I had no idea the homicide commander kept such a list.”
    â€œHe doesn’t. I lied. I’ll get back to you.”
    Jesse hung up and sat back in his chair.
    â€œIt’s Lucy Jameson,” Molly said. “Line two.”
    Jesse answered the call.
    â€œJesse Stone,” he said.
    â€œChief Stone. Lucy Jameson. I wanted you to know that some son of a bitch killed my Rufus. Snapped his neck like it was a pretzel.”
    â€œAnd Rufus would be . . .”
    â€œMy dog.”
    â€œOh,” Jesse said. “When did this happen, Ms. Jameson?”
    â€œLucy.”
    â€œWhen did this happen, Lucy?”
    â€œLast night. I found him this morning.”
    â€œHave you any idea who might have done it? A neighbor? An enemy? Anyone?”
    â€œRufus did his share of barking, I will say that. But folks around here weren’t upset by him. He wasn’t vicious. He wasn’t a biter. I can’t imagine who could have done such a thing.”
    â€œI’m terribly sorry for your loss, Ms. Jameson. Lucy. I’ll send one of my officers. Perhaps he might be of service.”
    â€œThank you.”
    Jesse called for Rich Bauer, who quickly appeared in his doorway.
    â€œGo take a look at Lucy Jameson’s dog, will you, Rich? Maybe you can detect something.”
    â€œYou bet, Skipper,” Bauer said.
    â€œRich,” Jesse said, “may I ask you a favor?”
    â€œA favor? Sure thing, Skipper. Name it.”
    â€œQuit calling me Skipper.”
    Â 
    Â 
    Â 
    J esse left the office and drove off in his cruiser. He needed some down time, and he chose to take it patrolling Paradise in search of miscreants. Showing the flag, so to speak.
    He found a few illegally parked cars and stopped to write the citations. He took comfort in the unseemly chore of writing parking tickets.
    He thought about the Robert Lopresti adventure. He knew he was operating outside of the law. Ironically, as a small-town police chief, Jesse had always believed that acting outside of the law was a perk. He was well aware of the personal risk he was taking. But he was intent on stirring the pot.
    Gino Fish ran organized crime in Massachusetts. Gambling, prostitution, vending machines, construction, sanitation. He had relinquished narcotics because they were against his principles.
    Although he didn’t know who was running the car theft operation, Jesse was certain that Gino Fish was pulling the strings from behind the scenes. Perhaps a meeting with him was in order.
    He wrote another handful of tickets, then went home.

    I t was after dark when Molly Crane finished work and was finally able to leave the station. Everyone else had already gone.
    She went around the office turning off lights. She checked to make certain the coffeemaker was off. She grabbed her coat and her bag and left the building.
    Once outside, she locked the door behind her. She took a couple of deep breaths and headed for her car.
    Then she stopped and stood still. She looked around. She thought she heard something. She listened for a few moments. Then she walked to her car. After looking around once again, she got in and drove away.
    Secure in the knowledge that she was gone, Rollo Nurse slipped out of the hedges alongside the building.
    Not yet, the voices had said to him.

22
    O nce home,