Night Passage (A Jesse Stone Novel)

always better than not knowing.”
    “Always?” Simpson said.
    “If you’re a cop,” Jesse said, “always.”
    Simpson sat for a time thinking. Jesse knew he didn’t believe it was always better to know. But he was getting older every minute, and Jesse knew he would believe it, if he stayed with the cops.

50
     
    “You know about the militias,” Ploughman said.
    Buck nodded.
    “Well, I know some guy from one of the militias, come to me, said he needed something done for a comrade in arms back east. That’s what he called him, a comrade in arms.”
    Buck waited.
    “They talk funny as a bastard, these guys, you ever notice? He says that there’s a guy out here that threatens the comrade in arms back east and he has to be deactivated.”
    Ploughman waited for Buck’s reaction. Buck had no reaction and Ploughman looked disappointed.
    “Deactivated! They want him clipped, why don’t they just say so, you know? So I tell this guy, No. I steal shit, but I don’t kill people. I mean I’ll carry a piece sometimes and make people think I would, you gotta make them think so, otherwise whaddya do, go in the bank and say gimme the money or I’ll yell at you? But I never used it. I ain’t a life taker. So I says no. And the militia guy kind of nods and looks at me like I’m a freaking enemy of the people and he says, well perhaps they will have to send someone.”
    Ploughman stopped, looking pleased. Buck waited.
    “And that’s it,” Ploughman said.
    “That’s what you got to buy off twenty years?”
    “Hell, it’s good. It tells you who ordered the hit and that they probably sent their own man. That’s golden, for crissake.”
    “Who did they send?” Buck asked.
    “I don’t know. They found out I wasn’t the man, they didn’t have anything else to say to me.”
    “You hear of them approaching anyone besides you?”
    “No.”
    “How much were they going to pay you?”
    “Five.”
    “Five thousand?”
    “Yeah. They’re all cheap bastards,” Ploughman said. “I never saw a militia guy willing to go first class.”
    “Where in the east?”
    “Didn’t say. But I figure you guys know where he came from.”
    Buck didn’t answer. He stood with his arms folded, leaning on the wall, admiring his boots. Then he shifted his look to Ploughman.
    “Tell your lawyer to see me,” Buck said finally.
    “Can you work something out?” Ploughman said.
    “Have him call me,” Buck said and went and knocked on the door.

51
     
    Jesse was drinking scotch at the counter in his tiny kitchen when Jenn called.
    “Is it later there or earlier?” Jenn asked.
    “It’s eight o’clock where you are,” Jesse said, “and eleven o’clock where I am.”
    “Are you drinking?”
    “I’m having one scotch before bed,” Jesse said.
    “Just one?”
    “Funny thing, Jenn. There’s a lot of pressure here all of a sudden, and it seems like I don’t need a drink. I haven’t had more than one since the pressure began.”
    “Are you in trouble?”
    “There is trouble,” Jesse said. “I don’t know yet if I’m in it.”
    “Can you tell me about it?”
    “The trouble? Sure. The guy I replaced in this job got murdered in Wyoming. A woman got murdered and I think it’s a way of getting at me.”
    “Was she close to you?”
    “No, I didn’t know her. But I know who did it, and I think he did it to challenge me.”
    “Are you scared?”
    “Yes,” Jesse said. “It’s probably why I only have one drink.”
    “So you’ll be ready?”
    “Something like that.”
    “Can’t you arrest the man?”
    “I can’t prove anything,” Jesse said.
    “Is the man in Wyoming part of this?”
    “I don’t know. It’s crazy that a town like this, where there hasn’t been a killing in fifty years, suddenly has two in a month. It makes you want to think they’re connected.”
    “But you don’t see a connection.”
    “No. There’s some kind of militia group in town. Not like the National Guard, the other kind, and there’s something funky about them.”
    “Do you like the men you work with?”
    “I like them, but I don’t know who I can trust.”
    “No one?”
    “Well, I’m sort of forced to trust one of them. My guess is he’s okay.”
    “What about that woman. Weren’t you seeing a woman?”
    “Abby. She’s mad at me.”
    “Have you broken up?”
    “I don’t know. The last time I saw her she walked away in a huff.”
    “What is she mad at?”
    “I wouldn’t tell her about