Robert B. Parker's Stone's Throw by Mike Lupica

Author:Mike Lupica [Lupica, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780525542117
Google: P4w8EAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B08R1BDKFC
Goodreads: 56364288
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Published: 2021-09-15T05:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-FIVE

Molly refused to accept that Blair Richmond might be dead. She was like a dog with a bone, not that Jesse would ever put it that way. So she kept looking, like she was lifting up rocks all over social media, hoping that if Blair was out there somewhere, even having gone to ground, she might have made a mistake and left a trail.

From the start she’d said she was the obvious choice for this particular detail.

“I’ve practically got a doctorate in social media,” she said.

“I don’t remember you taking some kind of class,” Jesse said.

“I did,” she said. “It’s called daughters.”

Suit was still being stonewalled on Neil O’Hara’s cell phone records, and on the landline in his office. And could find no record of Ben Gage ever having a cell phone account. What they did know, from the SOB Twitter account, taken down a few weeks ago, is that he had been receiving death threats from people who’d seen him as the biggest obstructionist on the land deal. Gabe was now tracking the ones dumb enough to leave the tweet version of breadcrumbs about their real identities. Peter Perkins, in his last few months before retirement, was helping out with that.

It was always the same, Jesse knew. Pulling on strings. Somehow he wanted to roll this all up before the vote. But they were going to need some luck. Or some breaks. Or both. Maybe he could stop the thing somehow, even though Neil couldn’t.

Billy Singer’s two body men waited until the afternoon to show up at the station wanting their guns back, bringing their licenses and carry permits with them. Sammy Baldelli and Roy Santo. Not from Vegas, as it turned out. Both from Rhode Island. Both with priors. Jesse couldn’t prove that either one of them had been at Neil’s house. But Jesse was as sure as Crow was that it had been them at the house, and then on the beach, because if it wasn’t them, then who?

Jesse came out into the squad room and handed them the Berettas back himself.

He got very close to them.

“You take both the shots, Sammy?” he said. “Or did you leave it to this genius?”

“I’m telling you, Stone,” Baldelli said, “you’ve got this wrong. Somebody might have done this shit, but it wasn’t us.”

“You got us all wrong, dumbass,” Santo said.

“Do I?” Jesse said.

He turned and grabbed the front of Santo’s nylon jacket with both hands and lifted him off the ground as if he were lifting a child.

He could hear the room go silent.

“Let go of me,” Santo said.

But it wasn’t easy acting tough when your feet were off the ground.

“Not just yet,” Jesse said, trying to keep any strain out of his voice.

Then he said, “What were the two of you looking for the other night at the house?”

“I’m telling you,” Santo said, “it wasn’t us.”

“No wonder people hate cops,” Baldelli said.

Jesse put Santo down. The two of them walked out of the station. Jesse went back to

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