(5/10) Sea Change by Robert B. Parker

“They aren’t in Europe.”
    Mrs. Plum’s shoulders rose and fell as she breathed deeply.
    “They are not students at Emory University.”
    No one said anything. From under Mrs. Plum’s closed eyelids, a couple of tears began to slip down her face. Mr. Plum looked puzzled. He glanced hopefully toward the patio door.
    “Did you know that,” Kelly Cruz said, “when I talked with you last time?”
    Mrs. Plum nodded.
    “Why did you lie?”
    “I…I knew they had dropped out and I didn’t know where they had gone.”
    “Why’d you lie?”
    “What kind of a mother doesn’t even know where her kids are?” Mrs. Plum said.
    The maid came in and put an old-fashioned next to Mrs. Plum. Mr. Plum took his from her hand and drank some. He smiled and exhaled audibly. Mrs. Plum opened her wet eyes and looked at the drink which was already beginning to bead moisture in the warmth of the terrace.
    “Oh God,” she said, and picked up her glass.

29

    S o how come I get to go on this big search,” Molly said. “There women involved?”
    “There’s some women,” Jesse said.
    They were on the harbor boat.
    “Otherwise you and Suit would have done it yourselves.”
    “Nice to have a woman, in an isolated situation, where there are other women.”
    “So I’m like the nurse in the examining room.”
    “Exactly,” Jesse said.
    “How come I never get to do guy cop things.”
    Jesse shrugged.
    “Next time Carl Radborn gets drunk in the Dory we’ll give you a shout,” he said.
    Molly grinned.
    “Women are nice,” she said.
    Hardy pulled the boat in alongside the Lady Jane, and held it there while the three cops went aboard.
    “Be awhile, Hardy,” Jesse said. “I’ll call you on the cell phone.”
    “I’ll lay off here a little to the leeward,” Hardy said. “No hurry.”
    “Leeward,” Suitcase said.
    “I love it,” Molly said, “when you talk salty.”
    Hardy didn’t respond and the three cops scrambled up onto the deck of the Lady Jane.
    Harrison Darnell met them himself. His guests were gathered at breakfast. The crew, except for the captain, was serving. There were bagels and muffins. There was cheese and a platter of fruit, coffee and a pitcher of orange juice. A bottle of champagne stood in a bucket. Blondie was drinking a Bloody Mary.
    “What is it now?” Darnell said.
    He was in shorts and boat shoes and a flowered shirt. Jesse handed him the warrant.
    “A crime has been alleged on board,” Jesse said. “That’s a warrant to search the boat.”
    “Crime?”
    “A young woman alleges rape.”
    “Rape? For crissake, Stone, I don’t have to rape anyone.”
    “We will also require that you not leave the harbor, and that you come in for a lineup.”
    “Lineup?” Darnell said. “What the fuck are you talking about. A fucking lineup?”
    Jesse nodded enthusiastically.
    “Yes,” Jesse said, “that’s what it’s often called.”
    “You have no damned jurisdiction here,” Darnell said. “We’re at sea.”
    “You’re in Paradise Harbor, Mr. Darnell,” Jesse said. “Why don’t you sit down over there, have a nice cup of tea or something.”
    “I want a lawyer.”
    Jesse shrugged.
    “Call one,” he said. “Officer Crane and I will search the ship. Officer Simpson will stay with you on deck.”
    “I won’t allow it,” Darnell said. “It is a travesty. There has been no crime. Ask anyone.”
    He stepped in front of the stairwell.
    “You are not going below.”
    “Of course we are, Mr. Darnell,” Jesse said. “It’s just a question of hard or easy.”
    “What’s hard?” Blondie Martin asked from her seat at the table. Her eyes were wide and full of excitement as she looked at Jesse over the rim of her glass.
    “Easy is Mr. Darnell goes and sits down with you,” Jesse said. “Step aside, Mr. Darnell.”
    There was something frantic in Darnell’s resistance.
    “No,” he said. “You aren’t going below.”
    Jesse took the cuffs off his belt.
    “You are under arrest,