Jesse dropped the recorder off at Marty Reagan’s office, then headed for the police station. He parked in his allocated spot in back and was just getting out of his cruiser when a black Mercedes sedan pulled up alongside him.

The back door opened and a giant of a man dressed in a green dashiki got out. In his hand was a Smith & Wesson semiautomatic pistol. It was pointed at Jesse’s heart.

“Against the car,” he said, motioning with the pistol. “You know the drill.”

Jesse leaned against the Mercedes, his hands on top of the car, his legs spread wide. The man frisked him and swiftly disarmed him.

“Get in,” the man said.

Jesse stepped away from the vehicle and looked at him.

“What are you, deaf,” the man said.

He stepped up to Jesse and pushed him.

“In,” he said.

Jesse briefly looked around and spotted no one. He got into the car. The man followed, still holding the Smith & Wesson. He closed the door behind him, and the Mercedes sped off.

“The fuck you think you doin’,” Thomas Walker said.

He was in the front passenger seat, facing Jesse. Jesse didn’t say anything.

“The fuck you feeding Clarice all that bullshit for? Get her all upset. I didn’t do my best to help you? You think I misrepresented the truth to you? You think it was me killed that girl?”

Jesse stared at him.

“You messin’ in places you got no business messin’ in, Jesse Stone. You still alive only ’cause you got Gino Fish in your corner. What part of ‘This shit ain’t none of your business’ don’t you understand?”

“What were you doing with Janet Becquer,” Jesse said.

“Private.”

“Not good enough.”

“Say what?”

“That’s not a good enough answer. You were seen all over town with a girl who was later found murdered. You lied about your involvement with her.”

“Lied?”

“You fed me your bullshit about some job offer and her not taking it. You failed to mention that you had been all over town with her.”

“You trying to make me for her murder?”

Jesse didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t do it. Okay? I didn’t kill that girl.”

Jesse remained silent.

“I got a warning for you, Jesse Stone. You keep dogging me like you be doin’, I’m gonna kill you. You mess with Clarice again, I’m gonna kill you. If you don’t walk the fuck away from this, I’m gonna kill you. Do you understand?”

“Maybe if you used smaller words.”

Walker glared at him.

“Don’t fuck with me, Stone,” he said.

“You don’t scare me, Thomas,” Jesse said. “Regardless of whatever threat you believe you present, I’m still going to do what I have to do. If that doesn’t suit you, then you best kill me right now.”

“Pull over,” Walker said to the driver.

The car swerved and lurched to a stop at the curb.

“Get the fuck out,” Walker said.

“Give me back my gun,” Jesse said.

“Herschel,” Walker said to the man holding Jesse’s Colt. “Throw the gun out the window.”

Herschel did as he was instructed.

Jesse stared at Walker.

“Out,” Walker said.

Jesse stepped out of the car. Walker lowered his window.

“Consider yourself warned, motherfucker,” he said.

Then the Mercedes sped off, leaving Jesse standing in the road.