Act II:
“You’re kidding.”
Jill shook her head as she took another sip of her martini. “Wish I was,” she muttered.
Lindsay just gaped at her. “Denise thinks Honeycutt will come at you with that?”
“Apparently. Either that or Denise has a very odd way of looking into my sex life.” Jill polished off the rest of her drink then flagged the waiter for another. They had arrived at Papa Joe’s fifteen minutes early and had decided to get a head start on the drinks after the day’s events.
“Sonofabitch,” Lindsay rasped, her Texas twang more pronounced than usual.
“That about sums up this day,” a voice floated over them.
They both looked up to see Cindy standing there with Claire.
Lindsay felt her heart kick against her ribs, and she almost choked on the sip of beer she’d just taken. Her body acted without conscious thought as she scooted over to make room for the reporter. Lindsay saw the look of surprise flicker across Cindy’s features before the reporter carefully eased in next to her.
Claire smiled knowingly as she slid into the booth next to Jill.
The waiter arrived instantly and took their drink and food orders before leaving them alone once more.
“Well,” Claire said to break the sudden tense silence. “Bitch of a day, huh?”
Her friends all smiled and some of the tension eased.
“When are you all scheduled to testify?” Cindy asked them, sticking to the oddly safer topics of murder and justice and soaking up the chance to be near them all without any yelling.
“Day after tomorrow,” Lindsay answered readily. Cindy looked at her and their gazes met and held for a moment before Cindy’s slid away.
“Same here,” Claire said.
“Tomorrow after lunch,” Jill admitted with a sigh.
“So I’m up before you all, huh?” Cindy asked them.
“Makes sense,” Jill informed her, setting aside her anger with the reporter for one night. It felt good to have the four of them together around a table again. “You got the case reopened. Denise will show how that happened, how desperate a son was to clear his father.”
“Desperate enough to kidnap a reporter,” Lindsay added with a slight smirk.
Cindy didn’t dare return the teasing, too afraid it would upset the fragile balance they all seemed to be keeping. “So… Denise prepped me. Anything I should know from you veterans? I’m not used to being on the other side of the story like this.” She rubbed at the still-healing wound on her chest, feeling it ache a little after the long day she’d had. She noticed all three of her friends’ attention zeroed in on the motion and she immediately put her hand back on the table. Claire looked at her knowingly.
“Take the time to think about your answers,” Jill told her. “On cross, I mean. Honeycutt is smart. She’ll try to trip you up.”
“I just don’t understand why we’re going to trial. Dow signed a confession that night. That stopped the execution.” Cindy put her elbows on the table.
“He recanted. Said he was forced to sign it under police duress,” Jill explained.
“Surely they can’t expect that to stick,” Cindy protested.
“Plenty of people want to paint the police as the bad guys,” Lindsay added. “They’ll jump all over it if Honeycutt can give them any reason to buy it.”
“That sucks.” Cindy looked like she’d swallowed something nasty. The waiter chose that moment to set her beer in front of her and a cheery looking margarita in front of Claire. The drink was so incongruous with Claire’s current mood that Cindy almost found the sight funny.
“You have no idea,” Jill murmured as she thought about what lay ahead for her on the stand tomorrow. She picked up her third martini, plucking out the toothpick and olive before taking a healthy swallow.
“Might want to slow down there, ace,” Lindsay pointed out with a smirk. “Don’t want the jury thinking you’re loose and a drunk.”
“What?” Claire and Cindy both chimed in.
Lindsay explained what Denise was expecting the defense to try with Jill tomorrow. Both women looked at Jill in mute shock when Lindsay was done.
“Honey,” Claire started.
“Brings new meaning to the phrase ‘I made my bed now I have to lie in it.’” Jill sighed and put her head on her fist. “I can’t believe I didn’t even think about Honeycutt asking me this line of questioning. What kind of lawyer am I?”
“One who almost had to shoot a man last week,” Claire reminded her.
Cindy swallowed, wanting the conversation to drift anywhere but to the circumstances around the school shooting. She stiffened in reaction and felt Lindsay do the same. The reporter took a healthy swig of her beer. “Are you ready for her if she comes at you with that?”
Jill shrugged. “As ready as anybody can be. Can’t say that being painted as a slut on the witness stand is going to help my career.”
“You never know,” Lindsay drawled. “With some of the men and women you work for you might actually move up in the world.”
They all shared hesitant smiles.
Claire sighed. “Okay. Enough small talk,” she said seriously. “No, I haven’t talked to Ed, he’s not returning my phone calls. No, I don’t know what I’m going to do about the job in San Diego. And no, I have no idea what I’m going to do when I get home tonight.”
Cindy glanced at Lindsay only to find the taller woman already watching her. The sight of those eyes on her hit her system like a jolt from a live wire. They nodded once, a silent truce established for the evening. Lindsay scooted closer and Cindy almost wanted to cry when she felt her friend’s thigh brush up against her own. It had only been six days, but she’d missed this, missed being a part of the group. She missed the connection and closeness among them. She missed Jill’s smirks and Lindsay’s slow smiles.
“What do you want to do?” Jill asked, feeling guilty that she was happy to have Claire’s problems to worry about instead of her own.
Claire took a sip of her margarita. “I told Cindy before we came over here that I want to get drunk.”
Lindsay and Jill looked at each other in alarm.
“Fortunately for all of you I have way too much sense for that.” Claire set the drink down just as the waiter arrived with their food.
“Facing Ed wasted is probably not a good idea,” Lindsay agreed with a tiny smile. “In fact,” she said more seriously. “Shouldn’t you be home right now instead of sitting here with the three of us?”
Claire knew she should be home, and it was probably very telling that she didn’t want to be.
“What is Ed going to do for work if he goes to San Diego?” Cindy asked as she sipped her beer. Lindsay’s perfume drifted over her and she found the scent distracting. She snuck another quick glance at the taller woman and was surprised to see Lindsay’s own gaze skitter away.
“He has a consulting position lined up.” Claire picked aimlessly at her salad. “It would be good for him, but he can get something like that here.”
“Has he tried?” Jill asked.
“I wish.” Claire sighed. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t even want to go home. If it weren’t for the kids…”
“You can stay with me,” Jill offered before the others beat her to it. “I certainly owe you one.” She smiled as she used her teeth to pluck the olive off her toothpick.
“Thank you, but I need to be the more mature one and face the music here. I might show up on your door later tonight, though.”
“I’ll leave the light on for you,” Jill teased gently. She nudged Claire with her elbow. “It’s going to be okay,” she promised Claire. “We’re going to help you through this.”
Claire set her fork down and covered her eyes with one hand as a fresh wave of tears threatened. She felt three hands on her arm a moment later and knew without looking that Lindsay, Cindy and Jill were all touching her, doing the only thing they could for her. In that moment, her decision crystallized into hardened resolve. She couldn’t give up the three people who would go to hell and back for her for a man who could barely be bothered to cook her dinner.
Claire revealed none of this to her friends, though. She owed it to Ed, to what they’d once been, to talk to him first.
****
Cindy watched Jill and Claire drive away like they were in the last lifeboat and she was still on the deck of the Titanic. She slowly turned her head to see Lindsay watching her from where the taller woman leaned against the window outside Papa Joe’s. Six days ago the two of them had fought right here in front of God and everybody. Cindy knew she didn’t have the energy to deal with another round right now. “Well…” she said uncomfortably. “Good night, Lindsay.”
Cindy walked to the end of the block, her keys in hand as she approached Maggie, her little red car. Tears were blurring her vision and her chest felt tight with the effort not to cry. The evening spent with the club had been bittersweet. Now that it was over, though, she was back to her very depressing reality. She heard footfalls coming toward her at a jog and she turned just as Lindsay pulled up and paused in front of her. “Hey,” Cindy said then winced at how stupid that sounded.
Lindsay smiled. “Hey,” she drawled back. “I… um… I wanted to apologize. For this morning, I mean,” she clarified. She wasn’t ready to forgive Cindy for what happened in the school. Not yet. But Cindy had looked so quiet and down during dinner that Lindsay couldn’t let her walk away. Not like this. “I didn’t mean for you to leave this morning.”
Cindy took a breath, feeling a small measure of relief. Her shoulders lost some of their tension. “It’s okay,” she answered. “You two have known Claire a lot longer than I have. I probably would have just been in the way.” She turned to open her car but Lindsay caught her wrist. Cindy’s breath hitched and she felt tingles shoot up her arm at the touch as Lindsay eased her back around.
“You were right,” Lindsay confessed in a near whisper.
“About what?” Cindy asked slowly, sensing Lindsay wasn’t talking about what happened with Claire.
“I do miss you when you stop coming around,” Lindsay admitted hesitantly.
Tears obscured Cindy’s vision and she had to look down at the keys in her hands, noticing that Lindsay’s fingers were still wrapped firmly around her wrist.
Lindsay swallowed. “I’m still mad. And I’m not done yelling at you, not by a long shot.” She felt her own tears burn as she swallowed again. “But… you’re still a part of us… you’re still…” Lindsay took a breath. “You’re still important to me.” She felt her heart constrict when Cindy looked up at her in surprise, tears running down her cheeks. “I just… we need to be there for Claire right now.”
“I know,” Cindy agreed.
“We’ll fight when this is over.”
They both smiled tremulously at each other. Slowly Cindy nodded. “Sounds good to me. Well… not good. You can yell pretty loud…”
Lindsay’s smile got wider. “And I’m going to. Make no mistake about it. There will be lots and lots of yelling.”
Why did that thought make Cindy want to grin like an idiot, the reporter wondered. “Okay,” Cindy said quietly, feeling lighter than she had in a week. She had never looked forward to an argument before, but she knew once they had it then maybe she could come back in from the cold.
Lindsay reached out with both hands and used her thumbs to wipe the tears from Cindy’s eyes. The reporter looked so tired and defeated it was nearly driving Lindsay out of her mind with the desire to just draw her into a hug. Cindy chuckled at her antics and Lindsay felt herself smile again. God, she had missed that little laugh. “Okay,” Lindsay agreed when she finally backed off a step. “Night then.”
Cindy watched Lindsay pivot on the heel of her boots and start walking away. She cursed her brain and her body a second later when both decided to happily chase after the taller woman. “Lindsay!”
The inspector turned just as Cindy launched herself into her arms and drew her into a crushing hug. Lindsay’s eyes slipped closed as she wrapped her arms around the smaller woman and pulled her in close. The scent of Cindy’s perfume and shampoo reached her nose and Lindsay inhaled deeply, going so far as to lay her cheek down on Cindy’s soft hair. It felt so good to hold her it nearly made her weep in relief.
Cindy buried her face in the crook of Lindsay’s neck, her hands fisted in Lindsay’s leather jacket. When she felt Lindsay’s arms come around her back her whole body nearly sagged in relief. Maybe they would be okay. Just maybe.
****
The house was quiet when Claire let herself in about two hours later. Homework lay forgotten on the dining room table and she took a quick look at it to make sure it was finished before following the sounds of some sort of space war being waged by her two sons by way of their Xbox 360. She lounged in the doorway to their room, smiling as she watched them play.
It wasn’t fair, she decided, her smile fading. It wasn’t fair what was about to happen to them. Their lives were about to be shaken to their foundations and Claire spared a moment to curse Ed for doing this to them, to curse herself for not finding a way to stop this before things had come to this point. She never once thought her husband a coward until that moment. The cop, the good, solid family man she’d fallen in love with all those years ago… Claire wondered where he had gone.
She’d been so relieved when Ed survived his surgery. Even the news that he was paralyzed was met with a measure of relief. It didn’t matter. Better to have his life than his legs, she’d thought. He had survived. That was all that was important to her. But now… now Claire wondered if Ed did survive. It sure as hell seemed like her husband, the man she remembered and loved, had gone into that hospital but had never come out of it.
With a sigh, Claire finally shoved off the doorframe and headed for the bedroom. She paused in the doorway when she noticed her suitcase was out. Ed was in the process of packing his. His arrogance added another layer of ice to her cold, hard anger. He looked up when he felt her presence.
“Hi,” he said slowly.
Claire crossed her arms. “What are you doing?” Her voice was low, even, a clear warning sign he should have picked up on and either didn’t or chose not to.
“What’s it look like?” he asked casually.
“Running?” Claire suggested.
Ed looked away as he stuffed a fistful of socks inside his luggage. “I’m not running. We’re starting over. We’re getting a fresh start.”
Claire swallowed and took a deep breath. Her next words would change her life, the lives of her sons. Everything she knew was on the cusp of change and it would begin the instant she opened her mouth. She wanted to snap at him for assuming that she would just cave to his wishes. She wanted to cry because she couldn’t give him what he wanted. “You can go if you want to. I’m staying and so are the boys.”
The words fell into the silence that suddenly stretched out between them. Finally, Ed swiveled his wheelchair to look at her. “Claire…”
“No. You gave me an ultimatum. Now you have your answer. The boys stay with me, Ed. You want to run away from everything you go ahead, but you’re doing it alone.”
“We can fix this. All we need is a fresh start,” he said as he wheeled closer.
Claire took a step back. She shook her head. “Moving to another city, giving up the friends I love and a job I enjoy… that won’t fix anything. The kids are happy here and you would yank them away from everything they’ve ever known just because you don’t want to face your issues?”
Ed jerked his chair around and moved back to the bed. He began stuffing more items into his suitcase. “This isn’t all about me,” he snarled in a low voice.
“No, Ed, it’s not. Stop making it that way.”
He looked up at her. “I need this. I need a change.”
“I believe you,” Claire said softly, her voice trembling as she felt her twelve year marriage crumbling around her. “But you haven’t even tried here. Don’t tell me this is about a serial killer, or what happened at the school… this isn’t about me and my work. You always, always supported me, Lindsay, Jill and now Cindy as well. What changed Ed? Do you even know?”
His anger went from simmering to white-hot instantly. “Can’t you do one damn thing for me?” He bellowed.
“One damn thing?” Claire’s voice sunk to its lowest register. “You mean helping you with your physical therapy? Or cooking you your meals even after I’ve been at work all day and sometimes all night earning the money that keeps a roof over our heads and food in your stomach? Or how about the fact I’m always, always, always trying to lift your spirits while all you want to do is drag mine down into the hell you enjoy wallowing in so much?”
Her bitterness surprised him. Claire could see it in his eyes. “You would just walk away?” He asked softly. “From everything?”
“You may not have the use of your legs anymore, Ed, but you walked away from us a long time ago. You think you can’t do this anymore? What about me? What about the boys? I want my husband back. They want their father back. If you want to keep blaming the world for everything, go ahead. I’m done.”
“I thought you loved me,” he said, his voice hard.
“I do love you,” Claire whispered as the tears she’d been fighting began to fall. “I just can’t be with you anymore. Not like this.” She couldn’t face him. Her whole body shaking, she turned and walked away.
****
