Page 74
Story: Hard to Kill (Jane Smith #2)
SEVENTY-FOUR
JACOBSON ASKS IF WE can talk while we take the short walk to the beach. Indian Wells Beach, less than a mile away, is outside the range of his ankle monitor, but I make a call and clear it with the court officer.
“He’d be doing us a favor if he tries to swim for it,” I say, “all the way to Portugal. Or do the Azores come first?”
“I believe the Azores are a region of Portugal,” the officer, Molly Newsome, says.
“Nobody likes a know-it-all,” I tell her.
“Look in the mirror,” Molly Newsome says.
As we make our way to Indian Wells, Jacobson makes sure to keep me between him and Jimmy, as Jimmy’s mood hasn’t improved that anyone can tell.
I’m the one to ask Rob Jacobson why he has never once mentioned the partnership between Anthony Licata and Joe Champi, allowing both of us to think that Champi was always acting as a lone wolf, at least where Jacobson was concerned. Like some low-life guardian angel.
“I’m not talking about Licata,” Jacobson says. “Not today and not ever. Cunniff can slap me around all he wants. I’ll still be alive.”
We make our way across the parking lot. Big waves today. Big and beautiful and loud and filling me with a sense of wonder, every time I see them. I think a lot, maybe too much, about all the things the modern world has managed to ruin. Politics and privacy, for example. Civility, you could throw that in, too. But nobody can ever ruin these waves and the scene spread out in front of me. Despite everything happening in my life, the ocean still makes me believe in God.
Even with the way She keeps screwing me around, sometimes on what feels like an hourly basis.
“Where’s Licata now?” I ask.
“The guy I’m not talking about? I honestly don’t know.”
Jimmy snorts. “Honestly. Good one.”
“And by the way?” Jacobson continues. “Why does it matter so much? The guy’s got nothing to do with my trial, which is supposed to be job one for the two of you.”
Jimmy is suddenly on fire again, like Jacobson had pushed the wrong button. “You know what I would discourage you from doing today? Telling me what you think my job is.”
We’ve made our way onto the beach. Jimmy moves around me, his back to the water, so he’s directly in front of Rob Jacobson again. In the moment Jacobson does look as if swimming for it might be a better alternative than having Jimmy back up in his face.
“I now know that Licata and Champi were in this from the beginning, along with your old man and your pal Eddie Mc-Kenzie, and his old man.”
Jimmy is pointing a finger at Jacobson, voice rising again, up and over the sound of the water. I know stopping him now, or even slowing him down, would be like trying to stop the waves.
But I have to try.
“Jimmy,” I say again.
“Don’t Jimmy me!”
He at least puts his hand down. “Are you the one who really shot your father and that girl?” he asks Jacobson.
“No,” Jacobson says to Jimmy. “I swear.” He tries to back away from Jimmy, nearly slips and falls in the sand. “I’ve told you before. No matter how much of an asshole you think I am, I’m not a killer.”
“But it has to be either Licata or Champi who killed my partner,” Jimmy says, his voice eerily low. “You think I’m just going to let bygones be bygones?”
“If it was Joe, what does it matter now?”
“It matters to me,” Jimmy says. “So if you know where Licata is, you tell me right here and right now.”
“All I ever knew was that he had a place in Montauk somewhere. Or maybe it was Napeague.”
Jimmy says, “He’s got paper on a place on Elm Lane.”
“Not that one,” Jacobson says. “I think there was a bigger place somewhere, but neither me nor Eddie ever knew where. I never even had a phone number for the guy. When he had something to tell me, if one of the money transfers was even a day late, he’d call me.”
“When’s the last time you talked to him?” I ask.
“After Jane shot Joe. Licata wanted me to know that nothing had changed between us even with Joe gone. We met for a drink at the American Hotel. One drink. He told me it was still business as usual until it wasn’t. Then they got up and left.”
“They?” I ask.
“Anthony and his girlfriend. This little Asian woman. He called her Mei, never told me her last name. I got the feeling that she maybe had taken Joe’s place in the operation. She didn’t say much, but before we finished our drinks, I asked her what she did for Joe. She smiled at me and said, ‘Shoot.’”
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