Night Passage (A Jesse Stone Novel)

membership, naming it simply The Yacht Club, as if there were no other. At night, coming from the leaf-thick tunnel into the brightly lit lot was rather like coming on stage. He parked nose in to one of the green composition tennis courts and got out and opened the door for Abby. She looked very elegant in black tuxedo trousers and a white blouse that looked somewhat like a boiled shirt. At her throat was a string of pearls. Jesse wore a dark suit.
    In the ballroom, walled with windows, apparently floating over the harbor, the guests were generally in formal dress accented by Halloween-themed accessories. Several women sported satin half masks trimmed with rhinestones. Hasty Hathaway was wearing a black-and-orange bow tie with his tux. The bow tie had orange lights in it that flashed on and off. A four-piece orchestra in one corner was playing music by Andrew Lloyd Webber. At the far end of the room a bar was open, and along the wall opposite the water view a buffet table was laid with orange and black paper, covered with food, and anchored at each end by a large carved jack-o’-lantern.
    “Hasty is drawing a crowd with his bow tie,” Abby said in Jesse’s ear as they pushed toward the bar. “It’s his party trademark. At Christmas he has one with red and green lights.”
    “He’s a sporty guy,” Jesse said.
    He got Abby a martini and himself a scotch and soda at the bar. They came in the same-sized clear plastic glasses. Abby sipped hers and made a face. Jesse needed to be careful with the scotch. This was not a good place for the Chief of Police to get drunk. Abby drank again.
    “Got to get some of this in quick so that the rest of it won’t taste so awful.”
    Jesse smiled. He started to drink his scotch and thought better of it. Take your time, he said to himself. Sip now and then. Nurse a couple of drinks. You don’t have to stay here forever. They edged over to the buffet table: potato chips; a boiled ham; salted peanuts; cream cheese and bologna roll-ups; pretzel sticks; potato salad; a large molded salad made of lime Jell-O and cabbage; pigs in a blanket; goldfish crackers; small meatballs in a sauce made from red currant jelly; a salad made with green beans, wax beans, and red kidney beans in oil-and-vinegar dressing; a platter of sliced American processed cheese food, two colors, yellow and white; some Ritz crackers; some salami chunks; a bowl of caramel corn; and a large bowl of something Jesse didn’t recognize. He asked Abby.
    “That’s called nuts and bolts,” Abby said.
    “Yeah, but what is it?”
    “Cereal.”
    “Cereal?”
    “Yeah, Cheerios, Wheat Chex, bite-sized shredded wheat, stuff like that, sprayed with oil and salted and baked in the oven. Then you add pretzel sticks, maybe some peanuts if you’re at the cutting edge. Some people sprinkle on garlic salt, some people put on some Kraft grated Parmesan cheese. Toss lightly and serve.”
    “Oh,” Jesse said.
    “One year they had a Crock-Pot of blushing bunny,” Abby said.
    “Which is?”
    “Kind of a Welsh rabbit. Campbell’s cheese soup and Campbell’s tomato soup mixed equally and served over toast.”
    “It’s gotta be Campbell’s?”
    “Yes. WASPs are very brand-name loyal.”
    Abby’s glass was empty. He stood near the end of the buffet table trying not to hear the music while she went for a refill. He looked at the buffet table and smiled. I hope I don’t get hungry, he thought. He took another drink. Carefully.
    “You’re all alone, you poor dear,” Cissy Hathaway said.
    Her speech was slow and careful, the way people speak when they’re drunk and trying not to show it. She had on more makeup than usual and behind the makeup Jesse could see that her cheeks were very red. She wore a long-sleeved formal gown, cream-colored with a red-and-green floral pattern and a high neck. The dress was very tight. Her high-heeled shoes were the same green as the leaves in the floral pattern.
    “Abby’s getting a drink,” Jesse said.
    “Well pooh on her,” Cissy said. “Come dance with me.”
    If he said no, she’d insist. Jesse could see it in her face. Jesse put his glass down and let Cissy take him to the floor. The band played “We’ve Only Just Begun.” Jesse was a good dancer. He had good coordination and he could hear the music. But dancing wasn’t really what Cissy had in mind. She pressed against him as they moved among the dancers, pushing her pelvis against his and moving her hips slightly without