ACT II

 Jill had called Claire while Denise had freshened up.  She hated to wake her friend from some much needed sleep, but Jill suspected Claire would want to be there, and there was no one more compassionate than Claire Washburn when you’ve just lost someone that made your world a better place.

 Kelly Yung had been a twenty-three-year-old law student at Berkley when she’d been murdered.  Jill wished she could go back 24 hours and shake the girl, order her not to take the drug, warn her that it would be the last thing she ever did.  She wanted to yell at her for how much she was going to hurt Denise by her actions.  But she couldn’t, and now she and Denise were standing over Kelly’s sheet-clad body.

 Claire entered the room, shucking off her light jacket and immediately grabbing a pair of latex gloves.  She nodded at Malcolm Ricker, her counterpart on the day shift.  He dipped his head in understanding before excusing himself to leave the women alone.  Kelly was Claire’s case, even more so now that dental records had identified her.

 “Denise,” Claire greeted gently.

 Denise glanced up at the medical examiner.  “Dr. Washburn.”  Her voice sounded tired and strained but her features were devoid of tears at the moment.

 “I understand you’re next of kin?” Claire asked for confirmation.

 Denise blinked.  “No.  I…”

 “You said she was your sister,” Jill blurted, suddenly feeling foolish.

 “She is.  My little sister.  I’m her mentor,” Denise replied peevishly. 

 “Big Brothers, Big Sisters?” Claire asked, feeling both relief and pity for the woman in front of her.

 Denise nodded as her eyes dipped back down to the white sheet.  “Can I see her?”

 Claire didn’t hesitate.  She rolled the sheet back from Kelly Yung’s recently washed features and did her best not to flinch at the tiny sound that emerged from the back of Denise’s throat.  “Is it her?” she asked needlessly, Denise’s reaction already all the proof she needed.

 Denise nodded again before turning away.  “Bernhardt… I…”

 “I’ll deal with your schedule for today,” Jill told her.  “If there is anything you need… anything we can do…”

 “I need to notify her family,” Denise informed them.

 “It’s already been done,” Claire said softly.  “They’re on their way in from Los Angeles.”

 Denise nodded distractedly.

 “Can I give you a ride home?” Jill offered, feeling a desperate need to do something for the other woman.

 The kindness seemed to finally be too much for Denise and she straightened before facing both women again.  Suddenly she was all business.  “I’m fine.  I would appreciate it if you kept me in the loop on this investigation.  I have to see to a few matters this afternoon for Kelly’s family.”

 “Of course,” Claire said easily before Jill could answer.

 Denise finally dipped her head at both of them, her gaze lingering one last time on Kelly’s face.  Without another word, she pivoted on her heel and left the medical examiner’s office.

 “Hell of a week,” Claire murmured into the silence.

 Jill nodded distractedly as she turned her head and stared at the doors, wishing that she could follow, wishing that Denise would let her do something to help.

 “Leave it alone, honey,” Claire said, guessing the path Jill’s thoughts were walking.  “This is Denise we’re talking about.”

 “I know,” Jill answered as Claire covered the body once more and snapped off her gloves.  The truth didn’t stop the need Jill had to go to the other woman, though.  With a sigh, Jill resigned herself to another 24 hours without sleep as she vowed to find Kelly Yung’s killer before he claimed another victim.  It was all Denise would let her do.

 ****

 

Cindy sighed and sat back from her computer at the Register.  She had deadlines to meet… stories to write… but all she could think about was Nikki Beaumont.  She’d run plenty of Internet searches on her predecessor and had been increasingly impressed with each nugget of information she’d mined.  No wonder the club had been so reluctant to let her in.  She couldn’t hold a candle to a cop as good as Nikki.

 The rustling of a bag drew her attention away from the screen and Cindy looked up into the eyes of her lover.  “Hey,” she blurted in surprise.

 “Hey,” Lindsay said with a hesitant smile.  She lifted the bag she was holding, ignoring the curious glances she was receiving from Cindy’s co-workers.  “Fried chicken and mashed potatoes from Mel’s,” she offered.  “I figured you hadn’t eaten yet.”

 Cindy was ready to lie when her stomach growled loudly at the heavenly smell.  She shut off her monitor but not before Lindsay saw a picture of Nikki on the screen.

 “Is this supposed to be some kind of peace offering?” Cindy asked as she leaned back in her chair and slipped her glasses off.

 Lindsay fidgeted a little, shrugging jerkily before slipping her free hand into the back pocket of her jeans.  “Maybe.  A tiny one,” she suggested with a slight quirk of her lips.  “Honestly, though, I need to talk to you about something.”  Jill’s parting words had stayed with her, finally forcing Lindsay to reluctantly leave the apartment and seek out the reporter.

 Cindy blinked realizing something serious was on Lindsay’s mind by her tone of voice.  Fighting or not, that edge to Lindsay’s voice always got under her defenses and now was no different.  She stood and grabbed her purse.  “Sure,” she said.  “Want to hit the park?”

 Lindsay sighed in relief.  “That would be perfect.”

 ****

 Neither spoke much as they ate, enjoying some of the sunshine they hadn’t seen in days.  They sat on a park bench overlooking the San Francisco Bay and watched the boats come and go as a gentle breeze stirred the leaves and their hair.

 “You heard about the victim from last night?” Cindy finally broke the silence as she wiped her fingers on a napkin.  Lindsay slowly lifted her head to look at her, and Cindy felt her stomach flip at the lost look in her lover’s eyes.  She swallowed, wondering what dark thoughts were torturing Lindsay this time.

 “Jill shot me a text message,” Lindsay admitted.  “Denise has had a hell of a night.”

 “I once thought I could never feel bad for that woman.  I sure feel bad for her now.”

 “Yeah,” Lindsay said distractedly.

 Tucking one foot under her, Cindy shifted so she could turn and look at Lindsay.  “Tell me,” she urged, hoping to simply order out the secret Lindsay was nursing.

 “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” Lindsay confessed.  “But telling you makes you complicit in this mess.”

 “Complicit?” Cindy asked, her brow furrowing.  “Did you break the law or something?” she teased faintly, but her stomach tightened in sudden fear.  “I’ve obviously been a bad influence on you.”

 Lindsay’s lips quirked at that and one of her elegant eyebrows lifted, but she said nothing more on Cindy’s penchant for winding up behind bars.  “I’m at least keeping the law from being carried out right now.”  Lindsay sighed and slumped back against the park bench.  “Pete called Denise last night.”

 The warm breeze seemed to turn cold at the mention of Pete Raynor’s name.  Cindy swallowed again, her irritation with Lindsay about Nikki evaporating into the ether.  “I’m guessing he wasn’t inviting her over for tea.”

 Lindsay snorted but there was gratitude in her eyes when she glanced at Cindy again.  She reached out and captured one of her girlfriend’s hands, lacing their fingers and feeling the contact ground and calm her in a way nothing ever had.  Cindy was her touchstone, the one serene place in the life she’d chosen to live.  “Pete admitted to killing Jill’s stepfather.”

 “Wow,” Cindy breathed after a few shocked moments, a mixture of emotions tumbling through her.  She felt a little sick at herself that she was glad the man was dead, but he’d hurt Jill and Cindy refused to apologize for being relieved he would never harm her friend again.  “Pete said he killed William Carter?”

 Lindsay nodded, watching her lover closely.

 Setting her containers of food on the ground, Cindy scooted closer to Lindsay, wrapping her hands around her lover’s bicep and leaning her head on Lindsay’s shoulder.  “He wants to see you, doesn’t he?” she guessed.  She heard Lindsay swallow roughly.  “He won’t tell us where he buried Carter’s body otherwise?”

 “You’ve learned to read me too well,” Lindsay teased halfheartedly. 

 “Yeah,” Cindy agreed.  “But I’ve learned him, too,” she murmured.  “And he’ll use anything at his disposal to get to you.  Even this.”

 Swallowing again, Lindsay watched the boats out on the water.  “I know.  He’ll never stop until time or the needle makes him.”

 “What are you going to do?” Cindy asked after a quiet moment.  “Does Jill know?”

 Lindsay leaned her head against Cindy’s, breathing in the reporter’s familiar soap and shampoo.  “No.  We haven’t told her.  I don’t know what to tell her.”

 Cindy took a deep breath.  “She would want to know, Linz.  I’m not sure if it would matter to Jill where that bastard dumped Carter’s body, but Jill would want to know he’s dead.”

 Lindsay fiddled with her fork before tossing it into her Styrofoam container and setting it aside.  “I don’t know if I can do it, Cindy.”

 “See Pete?” Cindy guessed.  Her upset with Claire, Jill and Lindsay over Nikki’s involvement in the club seemed petty now in light of what Lindsay and Denise were dealing with. 

 “Yeah.”  Lindsay sighed.  “He’s still playing games.  Even locked up, he’s still playing games with all of us.”

 Cindy considered the situation.  “We should tell Jill and then we’ll go from there.  I’m not sure she’d want you to see Pete, either, sweetheart.”

 Lindsay felt her stomach flip.  Cindy didn’t use terms of endearment often, but Lindsay loved it when she did.  She shifted and dipped her head, kissing Cindy softly and thoroughly.  “I love you,” she whispered when they parted.

 Effectively turned into a pile of romantic mush, Cindy could only let out a purr of contentment.  She cuddled closer to her lover, tucking her head under Lindsay’s chin.  “We’ll figure something out,” she promised.

 Draping an arm around Cindy’s shoulders, Lindsay pulled her closer.  “We usually do,” she admitted.

 “You’re still not off the hook about Nikki, though,” Cindy reminded her, hoping to ease some of the seriousness of their situation.

 Lindsay kissed the top of Cindy’s head.  “Of course not.”

 ****

 

A hesitant knock drew Claire’s attention away from the phone and onto her late afternoon visitor.  Even though it had been eight years since she’d last seen that familiar form darken her door, it felt like yesterday.  Tall, with dark hair tied back, and sparkling brown eyes that had always, always held a hint of mischief, it was as if Nikki Beaumont hadn’t aged a day.  Claire blinked, wondering if she was seeing things or if the lack of sleep was finally catching up to her.

 “Hi,” Nikki said softly as she leaned with forced casualness in Claire’s doorway.  “Remember me?” She smiled but there was a trace of fear in her brown eyes.

 Claire pushed back from her chair, completely unaware when tears gathered and began to stream down her face as she moved across her office and crushed the taller woman against her in a hard hug.  Nikki’s hands fisted in the back of Claire’s lab coat and held on.

 “I’ll take that as a yes,” Nikki’s drawled with her familiar southern accent.  Her own tears dotted her cheeks at the warm welcome she’d hope for but didn’t dare expect.

 “I was just about to call you again.”  Claire stepped back.  “Wh…?”

 “I got your first message just as I was getting ready to take off from the airport.”  Nikki stepped back and put her hands on Claire’s shoulders.  “As soon as someone checked with the department about that damn drug, my old partner called me and let me know.  I already had a flight booked.”  Nikki put her palms on either side of her old friend’s face.  “You look exhausted.”

 “And you look so much better than the last time I saw you,” Claire countered with a smile.  “It’s so good to see you looking happy and healthy, Nikki.”

 The detective blushed.  “Took me a while to get my head on straight,” she admitted.  “But I did.  I just didn’t know how to say I was sorry for everything that I said that night.  I don’t know… it almost felt like my penance… to lose all of you.”

 “Honey…” Claire chided.  “I should have called.  Hundreds of times I should have called.”

 They smiled hesitantly at one another. 

 “I figured maybe I could lay this case to bed finally,” Nikki admitted as Claire stepped back.  “And atone for a few of my own past sins while I was at it.”

 “You were hurting…” Claire started to argue.

 “I was an ass,” Nikki said with a little bit of a laugh.  “I was young and stupid and very, very drunk and said a whole host of things I knew would hurt.”

 “You wanted everyone to hurt as much as you were hurting, sweetheart,” Claire said in understanding.

 Nikki narrowed her eyes and smiled.  “How many years did it take before you came to that conclusion?”

 “A few.”  Claire grinned and bumped the taller woman with her hip.  “I have become older and wiser,” she declared sagely and was rewarded with a delightfully familiar chuckle from Nikki.  “Come see what we have on the case.  You came all this way, I think I can give you a peek at the files as a professional courtesy.”

 Nikki cleared her throat.  “Is there still a club?” she asked as she followed Claire over to her desk.

 “Yes,” the medical examiner confirmed as she perched on the edge and handed the file to Nikki.  “We even added another fourth two years ago.”

 “Ouch.  I’ve been replaced,” Nikki joked as she flipped open the file and began to quickly peruse the contents.

 “Never,” Claire vowed.  “But Cindy wormed her way in.  With one of us even more than the rest,” she added with a wicked twinkle in her eyes.

 “Cindy?” Nikki asked playfully aghast.  “I got replaced by some California girl named Cindy?”  She groaned.  “Please tell me she isn’t some valley girl, blonde bimbo.”

 “She’s a redhead.  And she’s a reporter.”

 Nikki’s head rocked back from where she was reading about the latest victim.  “A reporter?”

 “You’ll love her just as much as we do,” Claire promised.  “Now please tell me you have a prime suspect with these murders.”

 “You bet I do, sugar,” Nikki promised.  “Brian Renollet.  A high society pain in the ass with a degree in chemistry.  I knew it was him then, but I couldn’t prove it before he skipped town.”

 “They’ll be no skipping this time,” Claire said as she picked up the phone. “Keep reading.  I’ll call the others and tell them you’re here.”

 Nikki watched her friend dial.  “Definitely no skipping this time,” she agreed quietly.  The bastard was not going to get away again.

 Not this time.

 ****

 

Denise Kwon lay sprawled across her dark brown leather sofa, sipping from a glass poured from the bottom of her first bottle of Shiraz.  She’d drunk herself through forgetfulness and was working on the melancholy stage when a knock at her door had her getting unsteadily to her feet.  Denise peered through the peephole and swore before unlocking the deadbolt and throwing the door open.  “What do you want, Inspector?”

Maggie hesitated, her nose wrinkling at the strong scent of alcohol rolling off Jill’s boss.  “I needed to ask you a few questions about Kelly Yung,” Maggie admitted.  “I understand you knew her.”

 “Ah.  Official police business,” Denise muttered, her voice slightly slurred.  “Fine.  Make it quick.”

 Denise moved away from the door, not bothering to wait for Maggie to enter.  The police inspector closed and locked the door before following the Acting District Attorney into the living room where Denise curled up once more on the sofa and took a sip of her wine.

 “I’m sorry to bother you at this difficult time…” Maggie began, trailing off when she saw smiling pictures of the victim littering Denise’s coffee table.  Yung had been a beautiful young woman with a promising career in law until she tossed it all away.

 “Spare me the usual platitudes,” Denise spat, angered by the pity in the other woman’s eyes.  “Just ask your damn questions and go.”

 “Is there someone I can call for you?” Maggie asked.

 Denise stared hard at Maggie for a string of heartbeats.  “No,” she said firmly, suspecting they were both thinking about Jill Bernhardt but for different reasons.  “What do you want to know?”

 Sighing, Maggie came around the sofa and settled in the closest chair.  “Jill told me that you were Kelly’s mentor.”

 “Find job I did of that, huh?” Denise took another sip.  “I thought she was making something of herself and she was going out and throwing it all away.”

 “Did she party a lot?” Maggie asked.

 “Not that I was aware of.  Law school takes a hell of a lot of studying.  Not that you would know.  I didn’t even know Kelly was in the city.”

 Maggie clamped her teeth together and bit back the sharp retort she wanted to make.  Denise wasn’t exactly kind sober and they hadn’t gotten off on the right foot to begin with.  “Was she dating anyone?  Who were her close friends?”  Maggie fell silent as Denise reached over and picked up a small notebook from the glass coffee table and handed it to her.  “What’s this?”

“Every classmate, friend, teacher or boyfriend Kelly has mentioned in the last three years.”  Denise swirled the remains of her wine around in her glass.  “I stopped being Kelly’s big sister when she turned 18, but we remained close.  It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense that she would do something so foolish.”

 Maggie flipped through Denise’s detailed notes, impressed with her thoroughness.  “This will help,” she promised the attorney.

 “Doesn’t really matter if it will.  Won’t bring her back, will it?” Denise drained her glass.  “Anything else?”

 “When was the last time you saw Kelly?” Maggie asked, careful not to call Denise’s friend “the victim.”  Self-preservation told her that would be a fatal mistake.

 “Other than in the morgue this morning?” Denise sniped.

 “Ms. Kwon…”

 “Three days ago.  We had lunch.  She was over the moon about this new guy she was seeing.  Daniel Glass.  It’s all in the notebook.  I thought she’d gone back to Berkley after that.”  Denise looked at Maggie openly, wondering what Jill saw in the other woman.  She’d seen Maggie hanging around after hours, watched as Maggie and Jill had left for the evening giggling like schoolgirls with a crush.  Maggie was pretty, but the woman had accused Lindsay Boxer of murder.  How in the hell did Bernhardt see past that when Denise knew she couldn’t even let it go?

 “We’ll start with him then,” Maggie said.  Deciding there was nothing else but abuse to be gained by hanging around with Denise in this condition she got to her feet.  “I’m sorry for your loss, Counselor.”

 “You don’t know what I lost, Inspector,” Denise answered smartly.  “I trust you can find your way to the door.”

 “I think I can manage,” Maggie replied with her first glimmer of anger.  Alcohol might blunt a lot of Denise’s other edges, but her sharp tongue was obviously not one of them.  Maggie made a mental note to call Jill as she left Denise’s apartment.  Not that she wanted to expose Jill to her boss’ bad mood, but someone needed to check back on Kwon later to make sure she hadn’t drunk herself into a coma.  Maybe Jill could manage it on her way to meet Maggie for dinner…

 A plan in place, Maggie shut the door and checked to make it sure it locked behind her before heading to the elevator.

 ****

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