The
note crumpled in her hand as she curled her fingers into a fist.
She didn’t need to read it again.
The contents… every word… was burned into her brain, playing on an
endless loop.
I
can’t do this anymore.
Tears slipped out and left hot trails down her cheeks as she closed her eyes. How had it come to this? How had it gone wrong so fast after all these years of being so right?
It was an impossible choice she was being asked to make. Wasn’t it?
There was a scuffling sound from the doorway, but she didn’t open her eyes. The tears came harder when she smelled familiar perfume as her visitor came closer. A warm hand touched her back, and she felt Cindy sink into a crouch next to her. The reporter’s voice was hushed when she spoke.
“Claire? What’s wrong?”
****
“I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”
Wide, sad brown eyes looked back at her.
“It’s just…” Lindsay searched for the words to explain her anger. “It’s… she just…”
Martha laid her head down on her front paws and looked up forlornly at her pacing master. She just wanted her morning dog treat.
Lindsay took out her phone and flipped it open. “I should just call her. I should just call Cindy and…” She flipped the phone closed with a snap. “No. No… I’m not calling her. I’m not gonna cave this time. She always looks at me with those puppy dog eyes… you know the ones.” She glanced at the dog. “Exactly. Just like that,” she said pointing at Martha.
Martha sighed.
“She could have died,” Lindsay said with sudden volume, making Martha’s ears twitch. “She risked her life, again. Why does she keep doing that when it makes me crazy? Sometimes I think she does it on purpose to make me crazy. She’s a reporter… a story is not worth risking your life over.” Lindsay flopped down in one of the kitchen chairs before slapping her phone on the table. “Damn it.”
Her fingers drummed on the tablecloth. She ached to hear Cindy’s voice. Craved the sight of the girl’s sunny smile. Lindsay wanted to look into those warm, teasing brown eyes that got her to open up and say things she normally wouldn’t.
There was something about Cindy Thomas that settled Lindsay in a way nothing or no one ever had. It was what made staying away from her so damn hard… what made her so mad that it could have been lost.
You’re gonna miss me when I stop coming around, Cindy had said to her once.
Damn it all to hell if the girl hadn’t been right.
Lindsay raked her hands through her hair, wishing she knew what in the hell to do.
The phone rang and she jumped, startling Martha who raised her head and barked once in response. Lindsay checked the caller ID.
Cindy
Thomas.
Her heart leapt behind her ribs. The angry part of her wanted to let the call go to voicemail, wanted to ignore it all together…
She flipped the phone open. “Boxer,” she answered, wincing when she heard how eager she sounded to talk to the reporter, even if it was to yell some more.
There was a pause on the other end, and Lindsay closed her eyes, feeling her heart ache just a little. She wanted to take everything she’d said to Cindy back, wanted to apologize for being an overprotective ass, but Cindy owed them an apology. Not the other way around.
“Lindsay…” Cindy hesitated again, and Lindsay strongly suspected the reporter had expected to get her voicemail. “Um… can you get down to Claire’s office ASAP?” Her voice was quiet, strained.
“Something turn up on the Blake or Dellan murders?” Lindsay asked.
“Just… come quick. Claire… Claire needs us for something.”
Lindsay felt her stomach sink. “What’s wrong?”
“Please,” Cindy said softly. “Just come. I can leave when you get here if you want.” Lindsay heard Cindy swallow. “Claire needs you.”
That was all Cindy had to say. “Give me twenty. I’m on my way.” Lindsay started to say more but Cindy hung up, leaving Lindsay with the drone of a dial tone. She felt irrationally hurt which was stupid, she decided, because she was the one who was supposed to be mad.
Lindsay got to her feet and grabbed her keys off the counter, her thoughts on Cindy and what Claire could possibly need. She jogged to the door, quickly letting herself out.
Martha watched her go before her ears flicked and she sighed again. Suddenly the door reopened and Lindsay came trotting hurriedly back inside. She reached into a cookie jar on the counter then tossed the patient dog a biscuit.
Martha crunched happily as Lindsay left once more.
****
Act I:
“So what is this about?” Jill looked less than thrilled with Cindy’s summons. They’d barely spoken since the incident at the school six days ago. She was still mad at the chance Cindy had carelessly taken with her life, but she’d still come running when the reporter had called. As much as she wanted to keep her distance, it was proving hard. She missed Cindy. Missed her damn perkiness. It was annoying.
But Cindy didn’t look perky this morning. She looked exhausted and worried. When Cindy looked worried and wasn’t talking… that’s when Jill knew whatever shit was going on was serious.
“It’s Claire.” Cindy’s voice was subdued. “I came by to talk to her this morning. I found her crying in her office.”
Jill’s blue gaze shot to Claire’s closed door. She and Cindy were standing inside the morgue, relatively alone save for the two sheet covered-bodies she was trying to ignore nearby. “Crying?”
“Yeah.” Cindy shook her head. “She was clutching a note in her hand.”
“What did it say?”
“It’s not like I pried it out of her fist, Jill,” Cindy snapped, her own emotions getting the better of her for a moment. Only Claire had been there for her the last few days as Jill and Lindsay had given her the cold shoulder.
Jill blinked, startled by the flash of heat from the redhead. The last time she’d seen it directed at her, Cindy had wound up bleeding on the courthouse steps with a bullet in her before Jill had gotten a chance to apologize. The memory made her heart hurt and she had to look away. She really needed to sit down and hash things out with the reporter, but she wasn’t ready to forgive and forget just yet. Without another word, she walked to the door, feeling Cindy fall in step behind her. Jill knocked and entered without waiting to be asked. Claire was sitting at her desk, staring off into space. She was no longer crying, but Jill could see the evidence that she had been. The sight shook her.
Claire wasn’t supposed to cry. She was their anchor. The well-adjusted one of their overly-emotional and relationship-challenged group. Seeing Claire so upset caused the coffee in Jill’s stomach to sour.
“Honey?” Jill said as she came closer. “Are you okay?”
Claire took a breath and looked at them both. She held out the note, and Cindy took the crumpled ball of paper. “Read it,” Claire said, her voice hoarse with tears. “Save me from saying it.”
Jill went shoulder to shoulder with the reporter, each forgetting their irritation with each other for the moment to focus on Claire. Cindy smoothed the note out as best she could then tilted it toward the light so they could see it better.
Claire,
I
can’t do this anymore. I
can’t watch you risk your life chasing after killers.
We have two children. What
am I supposed to say to them when their mother doesn’t come home because she
died looking into things she has no business looking into?
I’m
not going to let another serial killer into our lives.
I won’t. You bring home
enough death every day with your job. Why
do you have to seek out more?
We
need this fresh start if we’re going to survive, Claire.
Please, take the job in San Diego.
One way or another… I’m going.
I hope it’s with you instead of without you.
Ed
Cindy read far faster than Jill. She was on her second pass of the note by the time the attorney read Ed’s familiar signature. They turned and looked at the medical examiner, both speechless.
“Now you know,” Claire said wearily.
“An ultimatum?” Jill asked. “From Ed?”
Claire nodded. “I was offered a nice position in San Diego. More money, less hours…”
“But you’re not going to take it,” Jill blurted. “Ow!” She yelped when Cindy elbowed her harder than necessary in the side. “What?” Jill demanded. “She’s my best friend. I don’t want her to leave!”
“Claire…” Cindy moved away from the attorney and sat on the edge of Claire’s desk. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I didn’t think there was anything to tell,” Claire sighed. “I wasn’t going to take the job. I’m happy here. My friends are here.” She looked at Cindy’s hand where it rested on the wood of her desk. She reached out and took that hand in her own, feeling Cindy squeeze back. “Ed seemed all right with that…”
“Until a new serial killer showed up,” Jill guessed, her voice suddenly subdued.
“And the shooting at the school,” Cindy murmured. It seemed like there was no end to the fallout over that. More collateral damage, her thoughts suggested. The aftermath had already crippled her relationships with Jill and Lindsay.
“We were already having problems before that,” Claire admitted. “You knew,” she reminded Jill.
“I just thought…” Jill shook her head. “I mean… you’re the Washburns. You’ve always been the Washburns. You and Ed are like the only people I know who make marriage work.”
“Apparently not anymore,” Claire muttered. Cindy’s grip tightened on hers. “Nothing has been the same since the shooting… he’s not the man I married. I’m not talking physically,” Claire hastened to explain.
“We know,” Cindy said quickly. “So this… Hallelujah Man showed up and piled another straw on the camel’s back, huh?”
“The who what?” Jill asked.
Cindy looked from Jill’s blue eyes to Claire’s dark ones. Both of them were looking at her like she’d lost a marble or two. “You didn’t see the Chronicle? They named the serial killer. Because of the Bibles, the scripture…”
“It’s a Love and Money song,” Jill pointed out with outrage. “I like that song.”
Cindy tapped her chest with her fingers. “Not my paper. Not my problem. I’m just saying… it’s gonna catch on.”
Claire shook her head. A tiny part of her almost wanted to smile at the pair of them. They were like squabbling siblings. The thought segued into images of her own children and her amusement vanished as her heart constricted. “What if he sues for custody?” Claire abruptly asked.
Cindy and Jill immediately returned their focus to Claire. “Okay… let’s slow down here. No reason to get litigious, yet,” Jill said. “You and Ed just need some time… talk things out. There have to be some options here.”
Claire picked up the note where Cindy had laid it on the desk. “I’m out of time,” she said in an elevated voice. “I either choose the two of you and Lindsay, or I choose my family. There are no other options.”
They were all quiet a long moment. Jill made eye contact with Cindy who wordlessly eased away and made room for the attorney to crouch in front of Claire. Jill licked her lips. “What do you want to do?” she asked with an edge of fear in her voice. She prayed she could put Claire’s needs over her own, but the thought of her friend not being there every day was making her stomach twist in knots.
“The answer should be a given,” Claire said softly. “I should want to do whatever it takes to keep my family together.”
Jill frowned, the lawyer in her reading between the lines. “You should…” she said slowly. “Does that mean… you don’t?”
The double doors in the morgue swung open as Lindsay Boxer moved into the room, her considerable presence filling the suddenly too small space. Jill watched as Lindsay’s eyes immediately locked gazes with the reporter she hadn’t seen for a week. For the first time, she could actually see the real potential between them, feeling the undercurrent of sexual energy that flowed between the two effortlessly. Not that either one of her friends seemed clued into the fact, however.
Cindy tore her gaze away from the welcome sight of Lindsay and glanced back at Jill and Claire before sighing. “I’ll…” she motioned at Lindsay with a wave of her hand, resigned to being the one to fill the newcomer in.
Jill nodded just as Claire covered her eyes and tried mightily not to cry again. Lindsay saw the tears and went still before surging toward her upset friend.
“Claire?” Lindsay got as far as the doorway when Cindy grabbed her arm, spinning her away and yanking her toward the hallway and some privacy. “Hey!” Lindsay barked but she went willingly when she saw Jill’s encouraging look.
“We’ll figure this out,” Jill promised Claire as she rubbed her back with soothing circles. She was as scared for the club as she was for her friend’s marriage. Already they were fragmented from the friction with Cindy. What would they do if they lost the one friend who knew how to hold them all together? “We’ll figure this out,” Jill said again, praying that it was the truth.
****
Lindsay nearly stumbled out into the hallway as Cindy gave her a rougher than necessary push. The reporter might be short, but she apparently had some muscle on her smaller frame Lindsay wasn’t aware of. “What’s wrong?” she demanded before the doors had even closed behind them. “What happened?”
“Claire is upset.”
“No. Really, Lois Lane? The tears didn’t clue me in on that,” Lindsay spat then mentally cursed herself when Cindy flinched and put a few more steps between them. She hated that sudden distance, wanted to eliminate it, but her stubbornness kept her where she was.
“Do you think you could put aside being mad at me for one morning for Claire’s sake?” Cindy looked up at her beseechingly. She watched as some unidentifiable emotion chased its way across Lindsay’s face. She hated this, hated them fighting after the weeks before when they had been growing so much closer. Cindy blew out an aching breath and dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’ll fill you in and leave,” she offered, her throat tight. “Okay?”
Lindsay jammed her hands into her back pockets to keep from touching Cindy. She wanted to draw the reporter into a hug, but instead she felt like she was kicking her when she was down. “I’m sorry,” Lindsay said in a calmer voice. “I just… I don’t like seeing Claire cry. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Cindy cleared her throat, taking Lindsay’s apology as the small victory it was. “She got a letter this morning. From Ed.”
Lindsay could only think of one kind of letter from Ed that would make Claire cry. Her heart went into freefall. “Oh God. What…?”
“He gave her an ultimatum.”
“Ed?” Lindsay said in disbelief. She shook her head, trying not to think about Tom, trying not to remember the sudden swell of painful memories that threatened to bring her to tears. No. No, Claire was not going to go through that. Not Claire and Ed…
“Either Claire takes a job in San Diego or…” Cindy trailed off and looked at the floor again.
Lindsay rubbed her forehead before pinching the bridge of her nose, hard. “This is not happening,” she murmured. “Not to them.”
Cindy said nothing. The same thought had been going through her own mind, but it was more about her and Lindsay than her friends. She felt guilty for that. It seemed like so much was falling apart around her, and she didn’t know where to start trying to fix any of it.
“I have to…” Lindsay shook her head and moved past Cindy, returning to the morgue and Claire’s side.
Cindy continued to stand there in the empty hallway. Tears welled up and spilled over and she wiped at them angrily. With one last longing look at the doors, she left the remaining members of the club behind. This was no time for the friction between her, Lindsay and Jill. The last thing Claire needed was to deal with the tension among them.
She slammed open the door leading to the muted sunlight beyond. She’d come back and be there for Claire later.
Alone.
****
Lindsay hesitantly stepped into Claire’s office. Her friend was sobbing quietly and she felt her own tears well up in reaction. It made the whole world feel wrong to see Claire cry like that. Jill was holding her, the blonde’s features stricken as her blue gaze lifted and met Lindsay’s.
Wordlessly, Jill handed Lindsay the note and the inspector read it with a sigh. The truth, written clearly in Ed’s handwriting, was no easier to accept even with visual proof. “Claire,” Lindsay’s voice held the ache she was feeling for her friend. “I’m sorry.”
Jill rubbed the other woman’s back. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie.” She watched as Lindsay came closer. They shared a look over Claire’s bowed head before Lindsay sank to her knees and eased her long arms around Claire’s frame.
“He’ll come to his senses, Claire. He’s just…” Lindsay swallowed. She knew what Claire was feeling. What it was like to have a killer come between you and your marriage. It seemed like stepping away from something so violent, so cruel, should be so easy, but it wasn’t. If anything, for a person with any sense of justice, it made stepping away nearly impossible. This was what they did. Stopping monsters like Billy Harris and the man they were chasing now… it was what they were meant to do.
Ed should know that. He’d been a cop. He’d given his legs for the job. Where did he get off demanding this of Claire? Unless it was an excuse… and that thought didn’t make Lindsay feel any better.
“Maybe he is coming to his senses,” Claire finally said as her sobs wound down. “He’s right. I bring death home.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jill answered with a touch of heat. She leaned back and ducked her head, encouraging Claire to look at her. “I’ve seen you at home. I lived with you. You’re a wonderful mother, a wonderful wife… Ed is being the prick of the century.”
“Jill…” Lindsay’s voice was tight and held a note of warning.
“He is!” Jill shot back without remorse. “Linz, let’s stop tip-toeing around this. We all know he’s still messed up over the shooting, but this is his way to get attention, to feel like he has some power… to yank her away from the things she loves. I want to be sympathetic to him, but damn it, this is Claire! I’m not going to sit back and pretend I’m okay with this.” Jill turned her watery blue gaze on the woman in question. “He knows you’ll go! He knows you’ll leave us…” Jill’s voice broke and she blinked several times as she fought tears.
Claire was silently watching her. “How can he know that, honey?” she finally asked, her voice hoarse. She was touched by Jill’s display of anger on her behalf. She took her friend’s hand in hers, drawing strength from it when Jill returned her grip without hesitation. “How can he know that when I’m not even sure?”
Lindsay shifted so she could look into Claire’s eyes. “Wait. Just wait… Claire…”
“I don’t have anything left to give, Lindsay,” Claire confessed, her tone defeated. “I’ve tried and tried and tried… and the only things that keep me sane are my girls and my boys. I love him, I love him so much I can barely breathe… but right now… right now I can’t be with him. What am I supposed to do?”
Lindsay was wide-eyed in response to Claire’s revelation. Claire had never looked at her like that before, had never asked for this kind of help from any of them. Her stomach twisted when she realized she didn’t know what to say, what to do. Lindsay could only be there for her. Make me laugh when the chips were down, she remembered saying to Cindy. It wasn’t just her rule. It applied to all of them. “You’re asking me for marital advice?” Lindsay managed to joke. “Seriously?”
Claire blinked in surprise then a tremulous smile touched her lips. She reached out and placed her hand gently on the side of Lindsay’s face in silent thanks.
Jill’s phone rang and the attorney cursed. She unclipped it from her belt and checked the caller ID. “Shit.”
“What?” Claire asked as she turned away from Lindsay.
“Denise. I’m late for our prep.”
“The Dow trial?” Lindsay guessed.
Jill nodded. “She can wait. I’m ready for this case.”
Claire took Jill’s hands. “Honey, she’s your boss, and we worked too hard to put that man where he belongs.”
“I’m not leaving,” Jill was adamant.
“Yes you are.” For the moment, Claire was back to being the one member of their group that could always see reason. “You’re a witness on the stand tomorrow, Jill.”
“So?”
Claire gave her a look that made Jill feel like a misbehaving teenager. “I don’t want to leave you…” Jill began.
“I’ll stay,” Lindsay chimed in. “You need to go. Denise will have a cow with a bonnet on it if you don’t.”
Jill hesitated, clearly torn.
“Go,” Claire instructed. “We’ll talk more later.”
Jill shook her head and sighed. Finally she leaned over and kissed Claire on the cheek. “We’re not done.”
“Not by a long shot,” Claire agreed. “I’ll see you tonight at Papa Joe’s?”
Jill’s features softened. “Yeah. Hell, I’ll even buy.” She winked then gave Lindsay a meaningful look before leaving her two friends alone.
“You want me to talk to Ed?” Lindsay asked when it was finally quiet again.
Claire shook her head. “No. I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Her voice was hushed.
Lindsay closed her eyes. “We’re a part of the problem, aren’t we?” She asked knowingly. “The club?”
“It’s not a club,” Claire murmured with weary amusement. She managed a smile when Lindsay snorted. “It’s everything right now, Linz,” Claire said after a moment.
“But we’re not helping. The demands we put on your time…”
“It’s not about that.” Claire pursed her lips then looked at her hands. “He… resents you, Jill, and Cindy. He thinks I put all of you first.”
“You put your kids first,” Lindsay’s answer was swift and hard.
“Second then,” Claire agreed. She looked up into Lindsay’s concerned brown eyes. “I’ve always dropped everything and come running when any of you needed me. When Ed still had use of his legs… he didn’t care, but now… Now it feels like he thinks he can’t help anyone… so I shouldn’t be able to either.”
There was bitterness on both sides, Lindsay realized with a sick heart. How had she not seen what was happening between them? And she called herself a detective… “Why didn’t you say something?”
“When would have been a good time, Lindsay? When Tom was getting married? When you were being hunted by Kiss-Me-Not? After Cindy was shot?”
“Yes,” Lindsay said firmly, trying not to think of any of the unpleasant memories Claire’s words stirred. “During any of those times. Claire, I love you. We all do. You’re always there for any of us. You need to let us be there for you for a change.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” Claire confessed. “It’s much easier to dispense sage advice than to receive it.” She smiled sadly.
“Lucky for you,” Lindsay said as she dropped her head on Claire’s shoulder. “I have several years’ worth of your sage advice stored up in here.” Lindsay tapped her temple. “I can share your own wisdom with you. God knows you wouldn’t want any of mine.”
Claire laughed, just a little. She took a breath and lifted her head as she came to a sudden realization. “Where is Cindy?”
Lindsay’s eyes cut to the doorway. She thought the reporter had followed her in, had just held back to let her and Jill handle the situation. Seeing that the room beyond was empty made her feel like she’d been punched in the gut. Cindy had offered to go and Lindsay hadn’t told her to do otherwise. Apparently Cindy had taken her silence as an agreement. Lindsay swore softly under her breath. “She’ll… be back later,” she promised. It didn’t feel like a lie since Lindsay was fairly sure Cindy would check in on Claire… when she thought Lindsay might be gone.
“Ran her off, huh?” Claire asked without judgment.
Lindsay lowered her head. “Not on purpose,” she confessed, thinking she should have known better than to lie to Claire.
“Lindsay…”
“Look. You have other things to worry about than me and Cindy,” Lindsay told her.
“But maybe that’s something I can fix.” Claire’s voice was soft.
“We’ll be fine,” Lindsay promised. “We just need to get in a room and duke it out.”
“Promise me you’ll do it soon,” Claire pleaded.
“No fair,” Lindsay teased half-heartedly. “You’re using my sympathy for your situation against me.”
“At least something good could come out of this then,” Claire answered honestly. “And don’t pretend like this separation isn’t killing you.”
It was, Lindsay inwardly admitted. It was keeping her up, occupying her thoughts… making her have asinine conversation with her dog… “I’m not the one at fault here,” Lindsay reminded her. “It was stupid. What she did was dangerous and it damn near got her…” Lindsay swallowed when she remembered coming into that stairwell, seeing that bastard with his hand inching up Cindy’s thigh. A shudder racked her body.
“Honey…” Claire took a breath. “If you’re going to be that mad at Cindy then you should be just as mad at me and Jill.”
Lindsay hated logic when applied to her emotions. It gave her a headache. “It’s not the same,” she answered feeling lame.
“No… I don’t think it is,” Claire agreed slowly. “But I don’t think you’ve figured out why, yet.” She watched as Lindsay looked at her with confusion. “You think about that, Lindsay. Why it feels different to you when Cindy risks her life.” Claire wearily patted her friend on the shoulder as the first of the morning employees began to arrive.
Lindsay sat perfectly still, trying to puzzle out what Claire meant. Her friend got to her feet and moved past her, greeting her staff as if nothing was wrong, as if her life hadn’t come apart at the seams this morning. Why was it different with Cindy? Lindsay suddenly wanted to understand, but a fearful voice inside her head seemed to think she was better off not knowing.
****
“You’re late.”
Jill moved past Denise who was standing ramrod straight in the DDA’s doorway. “I had a personal matter,” she explained through clenched teeth. She dropped her briefcase into her chair then looked at Denise expectantly. “Do you want to do this here or in your office?”
“We have a free courtroom for an hour,” Denise answered. “We’ll do it there.”
“I don’t need to…”
“You’ve never been a witness before, Jill,” Denise cut her off. “I’m damn sure going to make you know what it feels like to be one before Nicole Honeycutt does.”
“Is this really necessary?”
Denise crossed her arms. “We’re talking about a man who left another to rot in prison and nearly die for his crimes. A man who would have accosted you and probably much worse if Inspector Boxer hadn’t arrived when she did.”
Jill really didn’t need or want the reminder. “I recall. I was there.”
“The Galvans deserve justice for all he put them through. And Tracy Welling deserves justice that is long overdue.” Denise’s voice quavered the tiniest fraction at the mention of the former DDA.
Jill heard it. She swallowed when she realized she had forgotten that this case had to be pretty damn personal to Denise. She and Welling had been friends. Hell, Denise was sitting in Welling’s old office. Reminders of the case… of her lost friend… were literally everywhere. If it had been Cindy, Claire or Lindsay that Dow had raped and murdered…
Their gazes held for a tense moment.
“You’re the boss,” Jill finally relented with a sigh.
“If only you would remember that more often,” Denise sniped before pivoting on her heel and marching off down the hall.
Jill resisted the urge to display a finger at the retreating figure. Instead she followed wordlessly, her steps taking her toward the courtrooms several floors below while her thoughts stayed firmly behind in Claire’s office.
****
“Tom.”
Lieutenant Tom Hogan jerked at the light, feminine voice that called to him as he stepped off the elevator. He glanced over in surprise to find Cindy Thomas sitting on a bench in the hallway. The young reporter looked tired and wasn’t as fast to jump to her feet as he would have expected. He’d always thought she was pretty, her fiery red hair and warm brown eyes appealing. “Ms. Thomas,” he greeted her civilly.
Cindy gave him a pained smile. “I’m about to do something that is going to get me in mondo trouble.”
Tom crossed his arms and regarded her with bemusement. “From what I know of you, that won’t exactly be something new. Should I call down and get the holding cell ready?”
Cindy winced. “Not that kind of trouble, thankfully.”
“All right,” Tom said. “Lay it on me.”
Cindy took a deep breath and prayed she wasn’t about to make a huge mistake. She wasn’t especially fond of Tom, but she still thought at the end of the day that he was a good man. It was just hard to get past the knowledge that he’d walked away from Lindsay when she’d needed him most. That was something Cindy would never forgive him for, even if she and Lindsay never spoke again. “It’s just… none of them will ask… especially not Lindsay.” Cindy hesitated. “So… I just…” She closed her eyes and screwed up her features, her hands flapping helplessly as she tried to make herself say the words.
Tom lifted an eyebrow at her antics. It blew his mind that his ex-wife was so close to such a spastic person. Maybe Lindsay found Cindy to be as entertaining as he did. “What?” He prompted impatiently.
“It’s about Claire and Ed,” Cindy got out.
Now she had his attention. “What about them?” he asked more seriously.
“Promise me you won’t say anything to Lindsay about me telling you this. I’m in enough hot water with her already.”
That was news to him, but Tom merely shrugged. “Fine. What’s going on with Claire and Ed?” He listened as she filled him in, understanding why she had come to him with the news and appreciating the position she was potentially putting herself in. “You’re sure about this? Ed adores Claire.”
Cindy sighed. “I’m sure. I saw the note myself.” She glanced at the floor then looked back up at him. “I know you and Ed worked together. Maybe…”
“He’d talk to me?” Tom guessed.
“It’s Claire and Ed,” Cindy explained.
“Good marriages go bad sometimes,” Tom told her, his voice quiet.
Cindy swallowed, feeling unexpected jealousy surge inside her at his words. She frowned, confused, but unwilling to give the emotion the attention it deserved. “Will you help or not?”
Tom regarded her. “Why are you in trouble with Lindsay?”
The change in topic made Cindy pause. “The stuff at the school. She’s mad at me for taking chances with my life.”
“You were trying to save a child,” he said slowly. He’d read the reports and been impressed with what she’d tried to do, even though the cop in him knew she shouldn’t have done it. “She knows that.”
“Apparently not.” Cindy stuffed her hands in her back pockets. “She and Jill are barely speaking to me right now.”
Tom frowned. That didn’t sound like his wife… his ex-wife… at all. “Really,” he murmured, his brain taking this news in and beginning to formulate reasons for Lindsay’s actions. His gaze cut to the redhead again and he looked at her speculatively.
“What?” Cindy asked, suddenly feeling like she was under a microscope.
Tom looked at her a moment longer. “Nothing,” he finally said slowly. “I’ll talk to Ed. See what I can find out.”
Cindy fished into her purse then gave him her card. “Would you call me after you do?”
“You’re butting in, Thomas,” he warned her.
“Hell yes I am,” Cindy agreed. “Claire is always there for me. I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything I can to be there for her.”
Tom fingered the corner of the card, reading the neat print before lifting his head and meeting Cindy’s determined gaze. He nodded once.
So did Cindy. “I’ll leave you to your day then, Lieutenant,” she said formally as a cluster of uniformed officers walked by them. Cindy spun on her heel and headed for the elevators, aware of Tom’s gaze on her back. She felt like she’d just dug herself an even deeper hole with Lindsay, but there was no help for it.
“Please let this work,” Cindy said under her breath as the doors opened and she scrambled inside, not caring if the elevator was going up or down just so long as it took her away from Tom’s curious eyes.
****
Denise crossed her arms and looked at Jill expectantly. Jill sighed and moved past the benches, stepping through the small swinging gate before heading up to the witness box. Empty, the courtroom felt cavernous, every step echoing as Jill made her way to the stand. She sat down in the chair, wishing she were somewhere else, anywhere else than in this room at this moment.
“Take it in, Counselor,” Denise ordered.
Jill leaned back and looked out over the courtroom, expecting it to leave her with no impression whatsoever, just wood, marble and the ghosts of cases past. Her mind conjured the images of the jury to her left, the judge on her right, a crowd of people and reporters hanging on her every word to the front. Her heart rate accelerated and she broke into a slight sweat. Her sudden discomfort must have shown in her features.
Denise was smirking.
“So now what?” Jill asked to cover her unease.
“Have you given any thought as to what the defense will ask you?”
“I’m an officer of the court. If they’re smart they won’t ask me anything.”
“Arrogance will sink a witness every time, Jill. You know that.”
Jill sighed, conceding that Denise had a point. “We’re ready on direct.”
“We are,” Denise agreed. “And I have no doubt you could usually handle yourself on cross.”
“Usually?” Jill crossed her arms.
“You were in a school shooting last week, Jill. Not to mention you’re working on another serial killer case after what happened with Inspector Boxer and the Kiss-Me-Not killer. Your focus is off. Your cage has been rattled. I bet you’ve barely thought about this case beyond the time spent in my office prepping for it.”
Jill was uncomfortable with how accurately Denise had her pegged. She could rarely get a bead on her boss. Denise’s personality was constantly shifting and Jill never knew which of the woman’s personas would be on hand on any given day. She didn’t realize Denise was watching her so closely or was so aware of her mental state. “Okay,” she relented. “You’re right.”
Denise cocked her head and the tiniest hint of a smile crooked her lips. “Too bad that wasn’t on the record,” she drawled. She didn’t let the light moment last. “So tell me, Ms. Bernhardt. How many men have you slept with in the last month?”
Jill blinked and felt all the air go out of her lungs. “What?”
“Don’t react like that in court,” Denise told her. She came closer to the jury box, leaning her elbow on the rail. “Two? Five? Ten?”
The lawyer in Jill started turning the angles, trying to see where Denise was going with her line of questioning. She didn’t like any of the destinations. “I don’t see what that has to do with…”
“You have a reputation,” Denise cut her off, much as Nicole Honeycutt, the defense attorney, would most certainly do, Jill admitted.
“I’m single. I date. Neither of which is an invitation to be attacked by Mr. Dow.”
Denise dipped her head once, liking that answer. “You like sex, Ms. Bernhardt. Look at the way you’re dressed. You telegraph it very clearly.”
Any good lawyer would object to that, especially since it wasn’t a question, but it would serve its purpose. It would put the thought in the jury’s heads, draw their attention to her and away from Dow. Jill glanced down at her light blue shirt. She noted more buttons were open than necessary and the gauzy material was admittedly translucent in the right light. Shit. She took a breath. “You really think she’s going to come at me with this?”
Denise raised an elegant eyebrow.
Jill raked her hands through her hair. “We’re going to need more than an hour for this,” she sighed before slumping back in the witness chair.
****
A light tapping on the glass pane of her door drew Claire’s attention away from her thoughts and onto her visitor. Cindy stood in the doorway, a hesitant smile on her face, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans. “Hey,” Claire said quietly.
Cindy stepped inside. “Sorry I bailed on you this morning. How are you doing?”
“No one can blame you for not wanting to wade in hostile waters,” Claire replied with a half-hearted wink. She managed a tired smile as Cindy slumped into a chair on the opposite side of Claire’s desk. “You’re going to have to talk this out with them sometime soon.”
“Yeah. I know.” Cindy sighed and leaned forward, clasping her hands between her knees. “But I’m not here to talk about me. How are you doing?”
“Still processing,” Claire confessed. She frowned as she took a good look at the reporter. Cindy did not look well. Claire hadn’t see her this pale since the courthouse shooting.
“Have you talked to him?”
“He won’t answer my calls.”
Cindy’s jaw clenched. “Is it wrong that I really want to go give your husband a piece of my mind?”
Claire’s smile broadened a fraction. “Is it wrong that I want to let you?”
The reporter sighed. “I’m sorry about all this Claire. I feel like we let you down. We’ve been so wrapped up in our own lives we weren’t paying close enough attention to yours.”
“I think I’ve been in denial,” Claire admitted. “I just thought… if I keep going on the way I have been that things would even out.”
“No evening out, huh?” Cindy asked with a sad smile.
“Afraid not, skipper,” Claire said quietly. “As for being wrapped up in your own life… how are you feeling?”
Cindy’s head came up from where she was studying a chipped nail. “Feeling?”
The medical examiner’s gaze lowered to a spot in the middle of Cindy’s chest and she watched with some amusement as Cindy’s hand went over it reflexively.
“I’m… I’m fine,” Cindy said with a shrug, but her normal gusto for lying badly was noticeably absent. “Great.”
“How’s the scarring?” Claire asked gently.
Cindy swallowed and got to her feet before aimlessly moving around the small space. “You’re not getting out of talking about you,” she informed Claire. “I know what you’re up to.”
“I’m up to worrying about you,” Claire told her.
Cindy looked decidedly uncomfortable. “The scarring is no big deal. Battle wound and all, you know?” she tried to joke. “The doctors were pretty careful.” She swallowed again. “Can we please not talk about this?”
“You aren’t sleeping, are you?” Claire pressed on. Claire realized with a jolt that Cindy always blew off any talk of her shooting. Maybe the girl had been traumatized more than she let on. Cindy had probably been holding it together when she’d had her support group, but with Jill and Lindsay, especially Lindsay, out of the picture the last week and the incident at the school so fresh in her mind… Claire suddenly felt heartsick for a completely different reason.
“How did we get on the topic of me here?” Cindy asked with a forced smile. “I’m here to help you.”
“You can’t help me if you’re at the end of your emotional and physical rope.” Claire got to her feet and came closer to the redhead. She put her hands on her shoulders as Cindy’s gaze dropped to the floor, refusing to meet her eyes. “Give me something else to worry about besides my own mess here,” Claire urged. “Talk to me.”
Cindy looked at her then, and Claire could see the exhaustion plainly in her brown eyes. They were bloodshot and dark circles marred Cindy’s usually flawless face. For a moment she ached more for her friend than she did herself, Claire realized. “Talk to me,” she said again.
Cindy took a shaky breath. “I’m still hurting,” she admitted reluctantly.
“That’s to be expected. You having nightmares?”
Cindy swallowed hard then nodded. She didn’t bother to tell Claire they weren’t of the shooting. They were of Billy Harris killing Lindsay’s father then turning the gun on her friend, filling her full of holes and making her bleed and beg for death. He’d smile. In every dream he would just smile as he held Lindsay down and began to sew her lips shut. Cindy shuddered. This new case… this Hallelujah Man as the Chronicle wanted to call him… it was stirring that hornet’s nest of fears up all over again.
“I feel like… I feel like I’m on borrowed time… always… when it comes to the club,” Cindy said after a moment.
Claire felt a pang deep in her chest. “Why do you say that?”
Cindy shook her head, all traces of the usually vibrant reporter stripped away, leaving Claire with the most naked and open window to the young woman underneath that Claire had ever seen. “I feel like I’m always screwing up… that Jill and Lindsay are just looking for an excuse…”
“And how does getting shot figure into that equation?”
“It’s slowing me down,” Cindy confessed. “I want so much to help… to make a difference, but I’m so tired. I’m falling behind. I’m not pulling my weight.”
“Cindy…”
“I don’t want to be left behind,” the reporter’s voice shook. “I don’t…”
Claire pulled the young woman into a hug. She felt Cindy shudder. “You don’t want Lindsay to hate you,” she guessed. She felt Cindy nod. “Honey, Lindsay could never hate you. She’s this mad because she cares so much about you.”
Cindy leaned back, pleased at the thought but not sure she believed it. “How come it’s okay for her to risk her life every day but when one of us risks ours…”
“It’s harder to watch your friends risk their lives instead of risking you own.” Claire tipped Cindy’s chin up so they were eye to eye. “She’s scared, Cindy. You almost died on us a few months ago. What happened in the school… it brought that back for all of us. You and Lindsay especially.” Claire put her hands back on Cindy’s shoulders.
“You really think Lindsay is this mad because… of my shooting?”
“I think she was terrified she was going to find you dead inside that school building. She almost lost you once, she’s scared that it will happen again with the types of risks you take with your job.”
Cindy took a breath, her brain sifting and sorting through the notions Claire had left her with. For the time being she set them aside and focused her attention solely on Claire. “All right. We talked about me. Now let’s talk about you.”
“Damn. Didn’t distract you all the way, huh?” Cindy pursed her lips and shook her head in mock seriousness, making Claire laugh just a little. She sighed. “I’m meeting Jill and Linz at Papa Joe’s. You coming?”
“I don’t think I’d be welcome there,” Cindy confessed reluctantly.
“I want you there,” Claire told her. She took a breath. “I need you there.”
Cindy’s head came up and she looked at Claire in surprise. “But Lindsay and Jill…”
“Can get over themselves,” Claire finished for her. Claire returned to her desk where she picked up her purse. “Can we just set it all aside? Just for this one night?”
“We can do whatever you need us to do,” Cindy said with determination.
“Good. Because what I need us to do is get drunk.”
Cindy’s eyes widened as Claire walked past her and out the door.
****
