ACT III

 

“Ms. Kwon!”

 Denise paused just outside her office door, files in hand, on her way to court.  She was startled to see Agent John Ashe with the SFPD’s newest homicide inspector heading her way.  Denise frantically searched her memory for the detective’s name and only remembered it just as she was forced to speak.

 “Inspector… Snow…” Denise said slowly, relieved when the woman didn’t correct her.  “Agent Ashe.  What can I do for you?”

 “We need a warrant,” Ashe explained without preamble.

 “You have a suspect in the death of David Arnold?” Denise looked at Snow hopefully.

 “We’re following a few different avenues,” Maggie replied.  “This warrant is associated with one of those.”

 “I’ll need a name,” Denise said impatiently.

 “Lindsay Boxer,” Maggie told her without flinching.

 Denise looked from Snow to Ashe who shrugged.  “Inspector Lindsay Boxer?” she asked, ice entering her tone.

 “We have probable cause…” Maggie started.

 “What you have,” Denise said cutting her off with venom in her voice,  “is about the lowest IQ I’ve ever encounter in the history of the San Francisco PD if you think for one second Lindsay Boxer would string up a serial killer and sew his lips shut.”

 “I take it you’re a fan,” Maggie drawled as her hand rested on her hips.

 “I’m a colleague who has worked with Boxer on numerous cases over a number of years.  We aren’t even anything close to resembling friends, but my respect for the woman is as high as it gets.”  Denise leveled a glare at Ashe that would have incinerated him on the spot if it could have.

 He held up his hands.  “I’m just looking for evidence that I think Inspector Boxer is storing in her attic.  This theory that Boxer snapped and played surgeon on your killer’s lips ain’t mine.”

 Denise looked back at Snow who didn’t look remotely apologetic or like she was about to back down.  “You’ve lost your mind.”

 “Take a step back, Counselor, and look at this case like someone who doesn’t have a personal connection,” Snow volleyed.  “If Lindsay weren’t someone you knew… if she were just another cop… you’re telling me you wouldn’t look twice at her?”

 “But I do know Lindsay, and she’s not just another cop.”

 “And David Arnold worked in this building… swore in your witnesses… not once did you know people were swearing with their hands on one side of the bible while a devil held up the other.”

 Denise’s head snapped back at the rebuke.  “You’re out of line,” she seethed.

 “And you’re letting your personal judgment get in the way of a legitimate line of inquiry, Counselor.”

 “Preliminary time of death…” Denise began.

 “Is preliminary,” Snow reminded the other woman.  “And Boxer could have had help.”

 The two women stared each other down.

 “Listen,” Ashe hesitantly stepped between them.  “Whatever her motives are… I just need a look at that evidence.”

 Denise transferred her glare to him.  She would have rather had a root canal then give them their warrant, but looking at the situation objectively, she knew Snow had a point.  Denise didn’t have to like it, though.  “Fine.  I’ll have Jill meet you there with the warrant in half an hour.”

 “Oh boy,” Ashe muttered before sighing.

 Maggie looked shaken at the thought of having to explain herself to Jill.  “Don’t you think…”

 “Half an hour,” Denise said between clenched teeth.  She stepped around Ashe and went toe-to-toe with the inspector.  “Know this, Snow.  You’re starting off on the wrong foot with this office.”

 “Even if it catches me a killer?” Maggie asked with steel in her voice.

 “You’re wasting your time,” Denise snarled.  She shoved past the inspector, so angry she could barely think.  A part of her wished she could go to Lindsay’s apartment to watch Jill rip the little pipsqueak apart.  She’d have to settle for a secondhand account… maybe over drinks, some part of her brain helpfully suggested.

 “As helpful as I remember her,” Ashe said cheekily as he watched Denise’s toned legs as she walked away.

 ****

 

“It makes sense,” Jill argued from her seat as Claire paced in the medical examiner’s office.  “You have to admit it makes sense.”

 Claire shook her head and swallowed, praying that she wasn’t about to get ill.  The mere thought that the real Kiss-Me-Not Killer had taken out Arnold as some kind of favor to Lindsay… It made her quake inside.  “I don’t like this.”

 “If he went after this guy for screwing with Lindsay…”

 “What would he do to Cindy?” Claire finished the thought.  She sat on the edge of her desk, her knees suddenly too wobbly to hold her.  “Damnit,” she whispered as she put her head in her hands, trying in vain to find some small reserve of strength to draw on.

 Jill watched her with clear empathy.  “Look, Harris had to be a protégé.  The real killer set him up.”

 “Harris hated Lindsay with a passion,” Claire reminded her friend.

 “Again, the real killer could have fostered that in Harris.  Fed him lies, stories… whatever it took.  But it backfired.  Harris went after Linz…”  Jill didn’t have to remind Claire of the rest.

 “Pete,” Claire said suddenly.

 “What about him?”

 “If the real Kiss-Me-Not Killer is still out there… he didn’t mess with Pete.  Maybe he won’t hurt Cindy,” Claire tried to rationalize.

 “Pete was only around for two weeks,” Jill countered.

 “But they slept together,” Claire argued.  “If the killer is that jealous, he’d have gone after Pete.  Maybe we’re making this whole thing into something out of guilt, Jill.  Maybe some part of our subconscious wants so desperately to make this thing with Lindsay right…”

 “No.”  Jill got to her feet and stood in front of her friend.  She took Claire’s hands into her own and waited for the medical examiner to look at her.  “No, Claire,” she said gently. “We know.  We both know it’s him.”

 Claire closed her eyes and squeezed Jill’s hands.  “We need to find Lindsay.  She needs to know,” she breathed.

 “I thought we were going to wait,” Jill almost whispered, hating the thought of dragging her friends back from the vacation they so desperately needed.

 Claire shook her head and opened her eyes.  “That was before we suspected a motive in Arnold’s death.”

 A rap on the door made both women jump.  They turned as Denise Kwon opened the door and stepped inside.  The acting district attorney’s gaze went to their linked hands before lifting and locking on Jill’s blue eyes.  “I have a warrant for you to deliver.”

 “In the Arnold murder?”  Jill moved away from Claire and strode toward her boss, reaching for the piece of paper in Denise’s hands.

 Denise pulled the page back, lifting it past her shoulder.  “You’re not going to like it.”

 “Who is it for?” Claire demanded to know.

 “I’m giving this to you because I think you could stand to blow off some steam, Bernhardt.”  Denise handed Jill the warrant.  “But don’t even think about shooting the messenger.”

 ****

 

“You coming?”

 Maggie blinked as Ashe got out of the car and headed across the street.  The engine had barely shut off before the agent had opened his door and left her sitting there, fumbling with her seatbelt.  “Ass,” she hissed as she got her own door open and scrambled after him.

 It was easy to see why Boxer hadn’t been a fan of Ashe’s.  Maggie felt a pang of regret about what she was doing, about violating Lindsay’s space.  She didn’t want to be right about Tex.  A part of her genuinely admired Lindsay, but Maggie had been in this place before.  She had to know… had to be sure that Boxer hadn’t turned into the very thing she chased.  Lindsay would never see it this way, but Maggie knew that part of her drive to find out the truth was out of respect for the other inspector.  She believed that Lindsay wanted to be a good cop, and that if she crossed the line, Lindsay would want someone to stop her.

 “Ashe, would you wait?  We don’t have the warrant yet.”  Maggie hustled after him, watching him climb the front steps like he lived there.  She could see he was already pulling out a set of lock picks from his back pocket. 

 A little blue car rounded the corner up the street, tires squealing in protest.  Both the agent and the inspector glanced at it and frowned.

 “Maybe you want to deal with a pissed off DDA,” Ashe muttered.  “I just want my evidence.”  He let himself in and closed the door, leaving Maggie to handle Jill alone.

 “Bastard.”  Maggie sucked in a lungful of air and turned on her heel, waiting for Jill to slam her car into park.  The blonde attorney practically leapt from the vehicle and headed for Maggie, anger radiating out of every pore.  “This is gonna be fun,” Maggie muttered under her breath, only to have the air knocked out of her when Jill slapped her hard in the chest with the warrant.  Maggie stumbled back a few steps, nearly tripping over the curb.

 “What the HELL?” Jill demanded as the warrant fluttered to the asphalt between them.  “I think that you’re out here trying to track down David Arnold’s killer and instead you’re out to ruin my best friend’s reputation?  You stupid bitch…”

 “Whoa,” Maggie said as she held her hands out to her sides, struck nearly dumb by the rage rolling off Jill in potent waves.  “Let me explain.”

 “Screw that.  Arnold’s killer is out there.  The man who kept me from my justice is running about free as a damn bird while you’re letting your ambition get the best of you.”  Jill reached down and snatched up the warrant, balling it in her fist.  She’d never felt so angry in her life.  Not at the stepfather who had abused her or the mother who had looked the other way.  Not even at Arnold for torturing her in a dusty, dank and deserted church.  “Lindsay would never… EVER… replicate one of Kiss-Me-Not’s crimes.  Not even if you put a gun to her head!”

 “Jill…” Maggie tried to grab the attorney’s shoulders, tried to anchor her in her anger so she could see reason.  Jill slapped one hand away and stepped back.  “Just hear me out.  I have good reason for looking at Lindsay.  Some rational part of you knows that.”

 “Some rational part?” Jill almost screamed.  “What’s rational about any of this?  Lindsay Boxer is more of a cop than you’ll ever be.”

 The words stung.  Maggie didn’t deny it.  But she’d been here before.  She’d been the one doing the shouting and the shoving.  And she’d been wrong.  Horribly wrong.

 “I understand how you feel, but I’m doing my job.  I don’t have to like it, and you don’t have to like it, but I’m doing what needs to be done.”

 “Claire has confirmed the time of death, Inspector,” Jill spat.  “Lindsay was standing right in front of me at the Register, in full view of a room full of reporters and the medical examiner when someone was strangling David Arnold to death.”

 “Could she have had help?” Maggie demanded.  “Could her ex-husband or her partner…”

 “Tom and Jacobi?” Jill almost shrieked.  “Jesus, are you out of your mind?  Linz wanted Arnold dead,” Jill confessed in her fury, “but she left with Cindy to make sure she wouldn’t cross that line.”

 They stared at each other for several tense moments before Maggie took a step back.  She closed her eyes, relief and guilt warring for emotional preference in the moment.  “The medical examiner is sure?”

 “Positive,” Jill replied, her tone razor sharp and full of venom.

 Maggie nodded and blew out a breath.  “You won’t believe me, but I’m glad to hear that.”

 “You’re right.  I don’t believe you,” Jill snarled.  “What in the hell were you thinking?”

 “I already got this lecture from your boss, I don’t need one from you,” Maggie said wearily, but without rancor.  “You’re entitled to be mad at me.  Hopefully when you calm down you’ll let me explain.”

 “You know what you can do with your explanation, Inspector Snow?”  Jill paused, letting her anger swell.  Denise had been right.  She’d needed to unload on someone and right now this was feeling pretty damn good.  “You can…”

 A series of four quick pops ground Jill’s threat to a halt and drew Jill and Maggie’s attention to Lindsay’s duplex as they tried to place the sound.  Suddenly, Maggie pivoted, clutching Jill around the waist and throwing them both toward the ground.

 Behind them, Lindsay’s home exploded.

 The sky rained fire, glass and wood all around them.  Maggie blanketed Jill, their limbs intertwined, the inspector protecting the attorney from the falling debris and heat.  Jill was aware of the other woman’s dead weight, and she rolled them both, rising up on her knees to better look Maggie over for injuries.  The scent of burning wood filled the air, mingling with Maggie’s perfume as Jill dipped her head and listened for the sound of breathing or to feel the stir of air against her cheek.

 She wasn’t sure she detected either.

 ****

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