Night Passage (A Jesse Stone Novel)

smudged along Cissy’s cheekbones. She took her small straw purse from the top of the dresser, put her lipstick in it, closed it carefully, and then, without looking again at Jo Jo, went out of the bedroom. Jo Jo made no move to go with her.
    Jo Jo said, “Good night, slut,” but she was probably too far down the stairs to hear him.
    He closed the door, and began to strip the bed. He put the sheets and pillowcases in the old-fashioned wicker laundry hamper in the bathroom, and remade the bed with clean sheets. When he was done he went into the bathroom and took a long shower. After he got out and toweled dry, looking at his muscles in the mirror, he rubbed a little Neosporin ointment into the scratches on his hand.

28
     
    Lou Burke always looked as if he were ready for inspection. His uniform was tailored and pressed. There were military creases in his shirt. His badge shined. His shoes were spit-shined. His pistol belt and holster gleamed with polish. What little hair he had left was always freshly cut. He was carefully clean-shaven, and he smelled faintly of cologne.
    “So tell me about this militia group you belong to,” Jesse said.
    Burke shrugged. Carefully, Jesse thought.
    “Freedom’s Horsemen?” Burke said.
    Jesse nodded.
    “Just a bunch of guys, like to shoot, like to stay ready,” Burke said.
    “Ready for what?”
    “For whatever comes. You know, like the Constitution says, a well-regulated militia.”
    Jesse nodded.
    “Everybody got paper for the guns?”
    “Sure,” Burke said. “Mostly F.I.D.’s. Guys with handguns got carry permits.”
    “And discharging a firearm within town limits?”
    Burke smiled.
    “No problem. Selectmen made that legal, four, five years ago, look it up, as long as it is not done in a way to endanger life or property,” Burke said. “Besides, even if it were illegal, you going to arrest half the town government, including the head selectman?”
    “Not me,” Jesse said. “Any automatic weapons?”
    “Nope. These guys wouldn’t know where to get one. Hunting rifles mostly, some shotguns, couple old M1’s, couple of M1 carbines that fire semi only.”
    “Hasty the commander?”
    “Yeah. He’s real serious about it.”
    “Any talk of, you know, white supremacy, Jewish conspiracy, that kind of stuff?”
    “Hell no, Jesse. We’re a self-defense force that enjoys getting together one day a week and doing some maneuvers. You know I wouldn’t be a part of anything that wasn’t straight.”
    “Any blacks in the self-defense force?”
    “No, but hell, there’s no blacks in town, are there?”
    “Good point,” Jesse said.
    “Probably why a lot of people move here, get away from what’s going on in Boston.”
    “What’s going on in Boston?”
    “Aw, come on, Jesse. You worked in L.A. You know you get a bunch of blacks you get crime and drugs and guns and the neighborhood goes to shit. It’s not prejudiced to say that. It’s just reality.”
    “Who finances the Horsemen?”
    “What’s to finance? The guys buy their own uniforms, supply their own weapons and ammo. We have a couple parties a year. I think Hasty pays for them.”
    Jesse nodded slowly. He tapped the fingers of his left hand softly on the desktop, and pursed his lips in a facial gesture that Burke had seen before. It meant Jesse was thinking. Burke felt a bit uncomfortable.
    “You got a problem with any of this, Jesse?”
    Jesse continued to purse his lips and drum gently on the desk. Then he stopped, and grinned at Burke.
    “No. Hell no, Lou. I got no problem with any of it.”
    Burke did not feel entirely reassured. Sonova bitch doesn’t miss much, Burke thought.

29
     
    The apartment was very still when Jesse got home. The small sounds of a functioning building only underscored the silence. Jesse walked to the sliders that opened onto the little deck, and looked out at the harbor. There was still enough light to see all the way across to the Neck. A single lobster boat came in toward the town dock, otherwise the boats that bobbed on the calm surface of the harbor were moored and empty. Jesse liked the silence. It was comforting. He stood for a while looking at the quiescent harbor and let the silence sink in. Then he went to the kitchen and got the bottle of Black Label from the cabinet and poured some over ice. He let it sit for a moment while he hung his coat on the back of a chair. Then he picked up the glass and walked into the living room and looked out the window and