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“Always the departmental small talk, huh, Lieutenant? I’m starting to lose some respect for you. You’re supposed to be a smart chick. Make your Marty-boy proud. So tell me, how come all these people are dead and you still don’t have it figured right?”

I could feel him sneering at me. God, I hated this man. “What is it, Coombs? What haven’t I figured out?”

“I heard your daddy ran out on you about the time I went to jail,” he said.

I knew what he was building up to tell me. Still, I had to keep him on the line. In the outer room, Jacobi was listening, but he was also watching me.

Coombs snickered. “You probably thought that the old man was jacking off some barmaid. Or that he left some bad markers out on the street.” Coombs put on a voice of mock sympathy. “God, it must’ve been tough when he took off and your mom died.”

“I’m going to enjoy nailing you, Coombs. I’ll be there when they start the drip at San Quentin.”

“Too bad you won’t have the chance, sweetheart. But I wanted to tell you something important. Listen. Your old man did leave markers. To me… I own them…. I took the fall. For him. For the whole police department. I own them all. I did the time. But guess what, little Lindsay? I wasn’t alone.”

Every fiber in my body tightened. My chest nearly exploded with rage. I glanced at Jacobi. He nodded to me as if to say, A few more beats… Keep him on.

“You want me, Coombs? I saw the photo in your room. I know what you want. I’ll meet you anywhere….”

“You want the killer so bad, it’s almost touching. But sorry, I have to pass on your offer. I’ve got one more date.”

“Coombs,” I said, glancing at the clock, “you want me, let’s go at it. Can you beat a woman, Frank? I don’t think you can.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant. Thanks for the fun talk. But it seems like, everything that happens, you’re just a tad too late. I still don’t think broads belong in the department. Just an opinion.”

I heard a click.

I ran out into the squad room. Cappy had a line going with Dispatch. I was desperately hoping Coombs hadn’t used a cell phone. Cells were the hardest to trace. One more date… I didn’t know what the hell Coombs was threatening. What was next? What?

“He’s still in the city,” Cappy shouted to me. He reached for a pen. “He’s in a phone booth. They’re trying to narrow it down.”

The detective started to write, then he looked up. His face was screwed in disbelief. “He’s in a booth… at the corner of Ninth and Bryant.”

All of our eyes met, and then everybody in the room was moving.

Coombs was calling from a block away.

Chapter 100

I STRAPPED ON MY GLOCK and yelled a call for closest available unit. Then I charged out of the office. Cappy and Jacobi trailed on my heels.

Just a block away… What was Coombs going to do?

I didn’t wait for the elevator. I bounded down the back stairs as fast as my legs would carry me. In the lobby, I pushed through staffers and civilians standing around and burst through the glass doors leading to Bryant Street.

There was the usual mass of people milling around on the front steps at lunchtime: lawyers, bondsmen, and detectives. I turned my gaze toward Ninth, craning my head to spot anyone who looked like Coombs.

Nothing.

Cappy and Jacobi caught up to me. “I’ll go ahead,” Cappy said.

Then it hit me. One more date… Coombs was here, wasn’t he? He was at the Hall of Justice.

“Police,” I shouted, signaling the unsuspecting crowd. “Everybody stand alert.”

I scanned through the startled crowd for his face. My Glock was at the ready. Bystanders looked at me in wide-eyed surprise. Several crouched down or started to move away.

This is what I remember about what happened next:

A uniformed cop came up the stairs, walking toward me. I hardly noticed; I was scanning for Coombs’s face.

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