Sea Change (Jesse Stone Novels)
Robert B. Parker
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Paradise, Massachusetts, police chief Jesse Stone faces the case of his career in the newest novel in the bestselling series.
When a woman's partially decomposed body washes ashore in Paradise, Massachusetts, police chief Jesse Stone is forced into a case far more difficult than it initially appears. Identifying the woman is just the first step in what proves to be an emotionally charged investigation. Florence Horvath was an attractive, recently divorced heiress from Florida; she also had a penchant for steamy sex and was an enthusiastic participant in a video depicting the same. Somehow the combination of her past and present got her killed, but no one is talking-not the crew of the Lady Jane, the Fort Lauderdale yacht moored in Paradise Harbor; not her very blond, very tan twin sisters, Corliss and Claudia; and not her curiously affectless parents, living out a sterile retirement in a Miami high rise. But someone-Jesse-has to speak for the dead, even if it puts him in harm's way.
Jesse used to like to sit out on the front steps of the porch in his undershirt and drink beer and feel the air. She kissed him gently when she came in. “I’ll join you,” she said. “Thank God it’s evening.” She went to the kitchen and got some white wine and brought it with her to the balcony and sat in the other chair. It was late enough to be dark. Jenn sipped her wine. Many of the boats in the harbor showed lights, particularly the big yachts farther out. The black water moved quietly below
glass-walled room with the turquoise light from the ocean coming in on two sides. Outside on the deck, several other tables were occupied. A waitress moved among them with her tray. “Know any of them?” “The babes that hang with Mr. Ralston? Just to say s’happenin’.” “Are any of these women here now?” “No.” “Does Mr. Ralston have anyone, like, steady?” “Naw,” Brick said. “Guy like that doesn’t do steady. He just hooks up, you know? Blonde one night, brunette the next. No flames, no games. No
even knows what he looks like. I gather he’s not a hands-on manager.” “But you are convinced he went somewhere,” Jesse said. “Yes. Mrs. Plum shut up once he made it clear he would deny it,” Kelly Cruz said. “But he wasn’t home the first few days in June.” “So if I tracked down the hits on his E-ZPass transponder, maybe I’d learn something,” Jesse said. “If he drove someplace where the system is in effect,” Kelly Cruz said. “And at worst I’d learn what I already know,” Jesse said. “Which
said. “You don’t like how I question suspects, you can leave right now.” “I can’t leave them in here alone with you, for God’s sake,” Molly said. “Then button it up,” Jesse said. “If I have to go to the selectmen, I will,” Molly said. “Fuck the selectmen. I nail these two degenerates, they’ll give me a raise.” “Did Daddy kill Florence?” Corliss said. Jesse was still for a moment. The anger left his face. Then he straightened and rested his butt against the edge of his desk, and folded his
poured himself a Manhattan from a silver shaker beaded with moisture. He offered the shaker to Mrs. Plum who shook her head. She sipped from her still-sufficient glass. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Mr. Plum said. Ortiz ate his sandwiches. Kelly Cruz sat with her legs crossed, her hands clasped over her right knee. Jesse waited. No one spoke. Slowly Mrs. Plum shifted her gaze from Jesse to her husband. He smiled at her. He said, “It’s going to be all right, Mommy.” She continued to look at