ACT II

 Lindsay Boxer and Warren Jacobi were leaning against a silver SUV when Denise arrived at the warehouse.  The crime lab was already there as were several uniformed officers.  At least they all appeared to be waiting and weren’t prowling around where they weren’t supposed to be.

 The attorney got out of her car and watched as Lindsay shoved off the SUV and sauntered closer.  Denise made no move to meet her halfway, waiting expectantly for Lindsay to come to her.

 “You got it?” Lindsay asked.

 “Of course.  But you have no idea the tap dancing I had to do to get it.”  Denise slapped the papers into Lindsay’s palm.  “You owe me, Inspector.  And don’t think I’ll forget that you sent Jill to do your dirty work.”

 Lindsay straightened, stung a little by the rebuke.  “She offered.”

 “And you gladly accepted, I’m sure.”  Denise glanced around.  She noted the old church, but her eyes didn’t linger on it.  Watkins had died screaming in there.  And Jill…  Denise swallowed and looked away.  “Where is it?”

The inspector tamped down her anger and pointed at the front of the warehouse.

 “Let’s get this over with.”  Denise marched away from them.

 Lindsay glanced back at Jacobi who raised his eyebrows in mild surprise as the attorney led them toward their crime scene.  With a sigh, Lindsay fell in step behind the other woman.

 “Thank you,” Lindsay managed to ground out.  “For helping us with this one.”

 “This has nothing to do with you.  If it were any other case, I would have told you to go fuck yourself for breaking and entering,” Denise replied, her voice low so the other officers wouldn’t hear.  “But this bastard was right under my nose.  He swore in my witnesses.  I want him hung by his balls from the highest cross I can find.  If that means bending the law to make it happen, then I’ll do it.”

 Lindsay blinked but wisely chose to remain silent.  They arrived at the entrance to the warehouse and Denise motioned toward the door as two uniformed officers stepped up with a battering ram.  It seemed like overkill since Denise knew there was an unlocked door or window somewhere, but they had to make it look good for the courts.

 “Take it down,” Denise ordered.

 Minutes later, they were inside and the bloody rag was being bagged and tagged.  There was evidence of more blood and a lot of it once the techs got some lights into the room.  Denise hung back, watching the proceedings with a combination of hope and anger.  The cops were swarming all over the room, paying her no attention whatsoever.

 A noise to her left made the attorney turn her head.  What she saw made her go deathly still.  Staring up at her from behind a grate in the floor was a pair of silver gray eyes.  They blinked at her then just as suddenly disappeared as their owner turned and fled.

 For a long moment, Denise couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t move.  Her whole body felt paralyzed with shock, but then some angry part of her brain started yelling at her to move, to stop him…

 “Lindsay!”

 The inspector turned in surprise where she’d been talking to Jacobi.

 Denise pointed at the grate, unable to do anything more.

 It took Lindsay about half a second to understand.  She shouted orders to the other officers as she came running, drawing her weapon and pointing it down at the grate.  Lindsay saw nothing and gave Denise a quick look.  “You’re sure?” she demanded.

 Denise nodded vigorously.

 Lindsay toed the edge of the grate, flipping it over.  She eased to the edge, shone her flashlight into the hole.  There was a tunnel below and the impression of two fresh footprints was visible in her beam of light.  “Shit.”  Without thinking, she re-holstered her weapon and clambered down the short ladder.

 “Lindsay!” Jacobi shouted as he tried to catch up.  He cursed his partner’s name then scrambled after her.

 Denise took a step back until her back hit the wall.  She’d just looked into the eyes of the devil, she realized as the attorney started to shake all over.  Denise thought seeing him wouldn’t affect her, but knowing what he did to Jill… she was both terrified and so enraged she could barely think. 

 Cobwebs brushed Lindsay’s features with a ghostly touch as she ran down the tunnel.  The inspector had her gun out again as well as her flashlight, searching in vain for any sign of Arnold.  The smell of age, dirt and stone made the air feel thick to breathe.  The tunnel branched off every so often, and Lindsay would slow each time, easing around those corners and making herself as small a target as possible.  Every time, the tunnels were empty.

 “Lindsay!” Jacobi shouted again as he finally caught sight of his partner and hurried to catch up.  “What in the Sam Hill do you think you’re…”

 The bullet impacted the wall next to Lindsay’s head, and she ducked before firing blindly into the darkness.  Behind her, she heard Jacobi go down, and she hoped he was merely seeking cover.  Her ears rang from the gunfire in the underground space and some distracted part of her brain realized she was going to have a hard time hearing the next few days.

 “David Arnold!”  Lindsay yelled into the dark tunnel.  “This is Inspector Lindsay Boxer with the San Francisco Police Department.  I order you to put down the gun and…”

 More bullets struck the wall next to Lindsay and she dodged, feeling a few chips of stone or brick sting her cheek.  She fired toward the area where she was sure she’d seen a muzzle flash then waited.  Distantly, she heard running.

 “Jacobi?”

 “I’m good,” her partner replied, but he sounded pissed.

 They started after Arnold.  Lindsay heard a bang up ahead, like a door being thrown open.  There was a glimpse of sunlight followed by the return of darkness.  She picked up the pace, feeling rage driving her.  When she rounded the corner where she was sure he was hiding, Lindsay did it with gunshots.

 “Lindsay!”  Jacobi shouted in horror.

 When the echoes faded, the only sound was harsh breathing.  Jacobi pointed his flashlight up to reveal a trapdoor.  He knew there was no point going through it.  Arnold was either long gone, or was waiting to pick them off like fish in a barrel when they tried to come through.  He swung the flashlight around to illuminate Lindsay’s bleeding features.

 “What in the hell?” he demanded. 

 Lindsay shoved past him, furious that Arnold had gotten away.  Again.

 ****

 Cindy could tell simply by her lover’s walk that Lindsay was upset.  Her brown eyes were locked on the inspector’s figure, watching her pace back and forth as she spoke into her cell phone.  It was times like this that their respective positions really sucked, the reporter mused.  She itched to duck under the police tape and skirt the patrol officers that were milling about to get to Lindsay’s side.  Watching the tense set of Lindsay’s body was causing Cindy’s back to tighten in empathy.

 Lindsay pivoted then seemed to do a double take when she spied Cindy waiting not so patiently behind the crime scene tape.  A tiny lift of Lindsay’s lips made the whole world seem better, the reporter decided, and Cindy dipped her head and offered an encouraging smile of her own.

 The redhead was so lost in observing Lindsay that when a hand landed on her shoulder, startling her so badly she dropped her notepad, Cindy almost screamed.

 “Ms. Thomas, if you would come with me.”

 Cindy blinked and looked at Warren Jacobi like he’d grown a second head.  She stooped to pick up her notebook, wondering why he sounded so formal, before following along.

 “What did you do this time, Thomas?” One of the other reporters asked and the men and women around him chuckled.

 Cindy ignored him and trotted after the fast walking Jacobi.  She assumed he was going to sneak her back to talk to Lindsay so she was a little surprised when he detoured and took her around the corner behind a crumbling building, out of the line of sight of the entire scene.  “Inspector Jacobi,” she teased, continuing his formalness and going so far as to drop her voice to a manly-sounding register.  “What’s going on?”

 “What’s going on is your girlfriend is losing her damn mind,” Jacobi replied as he put his hands on his hips.  “She was running around in that damn tunnel getting us both shot at.”

 Cindy’s breath hitched at the mere thought of someone shooting at either of them.  “Tunnels?”  The reporter blurted instead of addressing the obvious.  

 “Cindy, can the questions right now.  I’m serious.  I’m not talking to you as a reporter.  I’m talking to you as the one person who can get Lindsay to see some damn reason.”

 Cindy took a deep breath, unsettled by how upset Jacobi clearly was.  And he was saying “damn” a lot which never bode well.  When Jacobi started cussing in earnest then he had to be seriously pissed.  “Was it wrong to chase the suspect?”

 “It is when the damn tunnel is as black as pitch and there is nowhere to get out of the damn line of fire.”  Jacobi snatched off his glasses and rubbed furiously at his eyes.  They still bothered him from the dust and dirt that had been down there, some of which still liberally covered his clothes.  “That’s not what worries me most, though,” he admitted.

 The reporter felt the bottom of her stomach drop.  “This sounds bad.”

 “It is bad, very bad, as in I’m leaving it out of my report so Lindsay doesn’t get fired bad.”

 Cindy licked her lips and braced herself to hear something she was sure she didn’t want to hear.  “What happened?” she asked again.

 Jacobi sighed.  “We thought we had him cornered.  Lindsay…”

 And suddenly Cindy knew what her lover had done.  Just like the night when they’d first come face to face with Arnold, when he’d been on top of Jill about to do God only knew what with that pipe.  “She went in shooting,” she guessed.

 Jacobi nodded, his surprise at her response clear on his face.  “She wasn’t trying to apprehend him, Cindy.  Lindsay was trying to kill him and damn near got us both killed in the process.”

 The redhead swallowed and looked back the way they’d come.  Cindy was feeling almost ill, and she fingered the barely visible bruise at her temple as a headache began to throb behind her eyes.  “Warren…”

 Jacobi realized he’d upset her, and he stepped closer, putting his hands on her shoulders.  “Talk to her,” he told her.  “Make her understand that she is not a judge, jury and executioner.”

 “She won’t listen.”

 “Cindy…”

 “It’s Jill, Jacobi.  Arnold would have raped her… tortured her… murdered her.  There is nothing I can say that would stop Lindsay from putting a bullet in him if she got the chance.”  A single tear slipped down her cheek.  “I’m not so sure I wouldn’t go in shooting either…” The truth made her shudder.

 “Hey.”

 At the sound of her lover’s voice, Cindy wiped her face.  She could hear Lindsay’s boots crunching on gravel as the inspector came closer.  A moment later, Cindy took a deep breath of Lindsay’s perfume, and it had the odd effect of making her feel both warm and unsettled.

 “Any luck?” Jacobi asked casually as he gave Cindy a second to compose herself.

 “Still canvassing.”  Lindsay drew even with Cindy only to frown when she got a look at her profile.  “You okay?”

 “Yeah,” Cindy answered as she turned to face Lindsay, hoping this would be one of the rare times she could get something past her perceptive lover.  Cindy frowned when she saw bleeding scratches on Lindsay’s cheek.  “Are you okay?”

 Lindsay’s hand reflexively went to the injury.  “Fine.”  She forced a smile as her gaze went to the stewing Jacobi.  Her jaws clenched when she deduced what the pair had probably been discussing.  “Not interrupting anything, am I?” Lindsay asked her partner, her eyes narrowing.

 “Not at all,” Jacobi answered dryly.  “Take care, Thomas.”  Jacobi moved past them both and left without another word.

 “He told you.”  Lindsay’s accent was as thick as her voice was rough.

 Cindy looked up into Lindsay’s eyes.  “You did the same thing inside the church.”

 “He was about to hit Jill with a pipe.  Was I just supposed to let him while I took the time to properly identify myself?” Lindsay snapped.

 “If you’re going to yell at me for caring about you, I have other things to do,” Cindy replied softly.

 Cindy couldn’t have shut Lindsay up any faster if she’d slapped her, Lindsay thought.  Her head rocked back and she blew out a frustrated breath as she jammed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.  “He got away again,” she said tightly.

 “I know.”  Cindy’s voice was soft, soothing.

 “He’s still out there.  He could still come after Jill.”

 “I know.”

 “Cindy…” Lindsay couldn’t look at her as she focused her gaze on the ground.  “I can’t… I can’t promise you I won’t…”

 “Kill him?” Cindy asked.

 Lindsay nodded.

 “That’s not what scares me, Linz.”

 Lindsay’s head came back up and she looked at the reporter in surprise.  “It’s not?” she blurted.

 “What scares me…” Cindy’s lower lip began to quiver as tears pooled in her eyes and slipped unchecked down her cheeks.  “What scares me is how much I want you to.”

 Lindsay went deathly still.  All the anger, the feelings of failure, and the rage at Arnold… they all dissolved in the wake of that one almost whispered sentence.  Lindsay swallowed as she felt bile rise up in the back of her throat.  What had this case done to Cindy?  What had she done to Cindy?  There were no words… nothing Lindsay could think to say that would make either of them feel any better in that moment.

 “It isn’t you,” Cindy got out, thinking that there was a better place and time for this talk.  “Don’t think this is about something you’ve done to me… that you’ve tainted me or…”

 “How am I not supposed to think that?” Lindsay asked, her voice huskier and deeper than normal.  “You never felt like this before you…”

 “The man who shot my father,” Cindy cut her off.  “He didn’t get the death penalty.  He might even get out on parole in another ten years.”  She wouldn’t meet Lindsay’s gaze but she could feel it boring into her.  “I asked you to step back up into that attic, Linz.  You didn’t want to go.  Maybe… maybe I’m the one who’s doing the tainting here.”

 Lindsay could feel her body shaking.  She shook her head.  “No…”

 “I have to go,” the reporter announced.  Without another word, Cindy turned and fled, leaving a shocked Lindsay too stunned to follow.

 ****  

 The sun had slipped below the horizon hours ago by the time Lindsay finally let herself into her dark apartment.  She closed the door behind her and waited, listening for sounds of Cindy moving about the space, waiting to feel that wave of warmth she always experienced just knowing the reporter was there… waiting.

 Silence beat back at her, and Lindsay closed her eyes.  Cindy hadn’t answered her phone the rest of the day and the lack of contact was driving Lindsay nearly insane.  The silver lining was that she was so busy worrying about her lover that she’d barely thought about Arnold slipping through her fingers again.  Lindsay just needed to see Cindy, hear her voice, know that they were going to be okay… 

 The inspector slowly slid down the door, drawing her knees to her chest just as Martha came around the corner and happily trotted up to her owner.  The dog slowed as she came closer then whined when she saw the tears tracking down Lindsay’s face.  She began licking them, catching them with a sloppy tongue that made Lindsay laugh just a little through her tears.

 Lindsay buried her face in the scruff of the dog’s neck and Martha let her, as if the dog understood that her human just needed a moment.  Martha’s head came down on Lindsay’s shoulder and they simply stayed that way for several minutes.

 “Thanks,” Lindsay finally whispered as she kissed the dog on the head.

 Martha whined again.

 “You miss your buddy?  Me too…”  Lindsay’s voice broke and she cleared her throat.  “Maybe she’ll be back tomorrow.”  The thought that maybe Cindy wouldn’t be was so terrifying Lindsay could barely breathe.  “When did I get to need her so much, huh, girl?”  She ran her hands through the dog’s thick coat.  “This place feels so empty without her now, doesn’t it?”

 And so did she, Lindsay had to admit.

 Deciding some alcohol was in order, Lindsay slowly got to her feet and moved toward the kitchen.  She was on her third glass of Scotch when a knock at the door drew her attention.

 Her heart leapt into her throat and she moved quickly to answer it, hoping Cindy had finally decided to talk.  Flinging the door open, Lindsay went stock still when she saw who was on the other side.

 “Pete.”

 “Hey,” he said gently as he took in her features.  “You okay?”    

 Lindsay shook her head then laughed bitterly.  “Perfect,” she said.  “Just perfect.”

 He moved past her as if he’d been invited in, as if it were perfectly natural for him to be in her home.  Lindsay couldn’t believe the gall of the man as she followed him into the kitchen.  He picked up the bottle of scotch as he sat down.

 “Trouble in paradise?” he asked with a slight smile that should have been comforting but only managed to aggravate the inspector further.

 Once she would have found that smile welcoming.  Once she found it sexy as hell.  Now she just wanted to wipe it right off his face.  “I am not in the mood for company, Pete.”

 “So you’re keeping company with a bottle instead?  Just because we’re not dating anymore doesn’t mean I can’t listen, Linz.”

 “Pete…” Lindsay tried to control her rising temper.  “You need to go.  Now.”

 He picked up her cell phone and fiddled with it between his fingers.  “I bet you took my number out of this already, huh?”

 Lindsay’s jaw set and she rolled her shoulders, trying in vain to loosen up some of the almost unbearable tension that had settled in them when she’d seen him on the other side of the door.  “Look… I really can’t do this tonight…”

 Pete sighed and dropped his hands into his lap.  “Why won’t you just talk to me?” he asked.  “You broke up with me over the damn Internet, Lindsay.”

 “I know it wasn’t the best way to handle it…”  

 “I mean… you aren’t even giving us a chance to be friends here.”  Pete shook his head and looked up at her.  “I still care about you, Linz.  I came over here to talk… to try to understand… but you’re clearly hurting right now.  You can talk to me.”

 “No I can’t,” Lindsay said but her tone had softened marginally.  “I appreciate the offer but…”

 “But you’re upset about… your girlfriend…” he said slowly.

 “Pete…”

 “What happened with you and Cindy?”

 Lindsay took a slow, measured breath.  She’d suspected that Pete had figured it out, the man wasn’t stupid, but it still made her uncomfortable that he knew.  “You need to go.”

 “Lindsay…”

 “Please, Pete.  I promise I’ll call and we can talk at some point… just not tonight.” 

 He sighed again then got to his feet.  He still fiddled with her cell phone for another moment, spinning it between his fingers.  “I really wish I knew if I was still in here,” he said with a sad smile as he set it on the table.  “Goodnight, Lindsay.”

 She stood there, listening to him leave.  Her fingers snatched up her phone when the door closed and she flipped it open, thumbing through the numbers until she came to his.  With two presses of a button he was gone.  She wished it could be that easy to get him out of her life.

 Lindsay walked and fed the dog but opted to skip dinner herself.  She called Cindy three more times to no avail.  Her lover clearly didn’t want to talk.  Lindsay knew she wasn’t being fair about the whole thing.  There were plenty of times where she didn’t want to share and had just closed off, but being on the other side of it was driving her crazy.

 There was nothing left to do but get ready for bed so Lindsay did so with little enthusiasm.  Finally she stood next to her bed in maroon shorts and a matching t-shirt.  She picked up the phone next to her bed and tried Cindy’s number one last time.

 It immediately went to voicemail. 

 Something inside Lindsay snapped.  She flung the phone and watched it shatter against the wall.  It wasn’t enough to satisfy her anger, to ease the maelstrom of frustration raging inside her, so she started grabbing at anything she could get her hands on.  She threw pillows, a vase, her keys… toppling over bottles on her dresser, sending glass shattering in every direction as the vase busted through the mirror and turned her reflection into thousands of broken shards.

 She grabbed her badge off the nightstand and hurled it with all her might, mentally cursing the gold shield that she both loved and loathed now, blaming it for every bad thing that had happened to her in the last year.

 It slammed into her vent with enough force to sound like a rifle shot.  Lindsay turned back to her dresser to grab the lamp.

 Behind her, something clattered and fell over inside the vent.

 The inspector slowly turned around, her anger still simmering just under the surface, but the cop in her was too curious about the sound to ignore it.  She grabbed a chair and pulled it below the vent before standing up and looking inside. 

 What she saw made her boiling temper ice over.

 ****    

 

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