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Channel 3 Action News set up downtown in Paradise, in the parking lot behind the Ranch Market. There was an equipment truck, and an air-conditioned mobile home to house production, wardrobe, and makeup and Jenn. Jenn had a small dressing room in it, with her own bathroom. A maze of hookups ran around the trailer and across the parking lot.

“I can even take a shower,” Jenn said.

“Always wise,” Jesse said.

A stocky strong-looking woman came in without knocking. She had short gray hair and Oakley sunglasses and seemed, even standing still, to be in a hurry.

“Marty,” Jenn said, “this is my…friend Jesse Stone. He’s the police chief here. Jesse, this is Marty Freeman, my producer.”

“Stone?” Marty said. “Same name as yours.”

“We used to be married,” Jenn said.

“Nice to meet you,” Marty said. “Come on, Jenn, got to use all the light we can.”

Jenn was in full makeup. She kissed Jesse, very carefully, on the mouth, and went out after Marty. Jesse watched as she went away. She had on a dark blue top and white pants, and expensive sneakers. Very yacht-y. The pants fit her well, and Jesse watched her backside twitch as she walked away. He was seeing her sexually again. Was he supposed to? Christ, who wouldn’t see her sexually? He looked around the small dressing room. There was a small closet with several changes of clothes. He could smell her perfume. He knew that when she took a shower and toweled off, she would spray scent in the air and walk into it naked. He wondered how many other men knew that. He imagined them watching her, as he had. A group of them. Faceless, nameless, somehow triumphant. Laughing and elbowing each other like players in a bad farce. She smiled at them. Soon she’d have sex with them. He could hear himself breathing. That’s it, he thought. That’s the bastard. I don’t know what it is yet, but it’s not love.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His face looked ordinary, the way it always looked. He spoke to the image in the mirror.

“Man,” he heard himself say. “I need a drink.”