(5/10) Sea Change by Robert B. Parker Read Free Book Online Page A

A dozen other yachts rode anchor in sight, and back in the harbor, the clutter of smaller boats seeming closer together from the deck of the Lady Jane than they actually were.
    The deck was dark polished wood. Probably teak, Jesse thought, or some other wood that could resist the salt water. Polished brass was nearly everywhere. Under a canopy in the cockpit lunch was being eaten and drunk, by a group of three men and three women, seated on built-in couches on either side of a built-in table. A man in a hat with lots of gold braid came from forward into the dining area and spoke softly to one of the men at lunch. The man listened and nodded and turned to look at Jesse and Simpson. Then he got up and walked back to them.
    “Harrison Darnell,” he said. “What’s all this?”
    “We’re investigating the death of a young woman,” Jesse said, “and we need to show some pictures to everyone on board, see if they recognize anyone.”
    “I’ll discuss this with my attorney, if you don’t mind,” Darnell said.
    “I don’t mind,” Jesse said. “Of course, I guess we’ll need to round up everybody on board and bring them into the station for questioning.”
    “You can’t do that.”
    “Of course I can, Mr. Darnell. But by all means call your attorney first.”
    Mr. Darnell was wearing blue flip-flops, pale khaki shorts and a red short-sleeved shirt decorated with a pattern of blue flowers. The shirt was open. He wore some sort of braided leather around his neck. His hairless chest was tanned, as was the rest of him. His blond hair was shoulder length, kept off his face by sunglasses worn, as if pushed up casually, on his head. His face was old enough looking so that Jesse suspected artifice in the hair color. You didn’t often see a man with absolutely no hair on his chest, Jesse thought. Jesse wondered if Darnell shaved it. Maybe it was gray.
    “Oh for crissake,” Darnell said.
    He turned back into the lunch area.
    “People,” he said. “I’m sorry. The local gendarmes wish to show you some pictures. They’ve promised it won’t take long.”
    One blond woman with a long oval face squealed as she turned and looked at them.
    “Ohmigod,” she said. “The fuzz.”
    She was wearing a bikini bathing suit and huge sunglasses. She had a nearly empty glass of champagne in her hand. Because she was sitting on a blue-and-yellow-striped couch, Jesse couldn’t see well enough to be sure, but he was confident that the bikini bottom was a thong.
    “Show them the pictures,” Jesse said.
    Suit stepped to the table and showed them to the blonde. Jesse watched her face. It was why he had Simpson show the pictures, so he could stand and look for a reaction. She barely glanced at the photographs.
    “Nobody I know,” she said and looked back at Jesse.
    “How come he’s wearing a uniform and you’re not?” she said, and emptied her champagne glass and held it out toward the crew member in charge of pouring. He refilled it.
    “I’m the chief,” Jesse said. “I get to wear what I want.”
    Simpson showed the picture to the man beside the blonde. The blonde drank some champagne.
    “And you chose that?” she said.
    Jesse was studying the face of the man looking at the pictures.
    “They do call it plain clothes,” Jesse said.
    She drank again and shifted a little so he could see the line of her thigh better. Jesse kept his eyes on her companions, as, one at a time, they looked at the pictures.
    “Are you carrying your gun?” the blonde said.
    “In case of pirates,” Jesse said.
    The blonde took a cigarette from a silver cigarette case. The man next to her snapped a lighter. She inhaled deeply and took a drink of champagne and let the smoke out through her nose while she swallowed. Simpson showed the pictures to the final person at the table. No one recognized them and no one had shown any reaction to them.
    “There, now can you have a nice drink?” the blonde said.
    “Show it to the crew,” Jesse said to