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JOE AND I were in bed. It was early, ten something o’clock, but I was too tired to go for a run, too edgy to sleep. Joe yawned and stretched beside me. He was feeling wonderful. In fact, the last time he’d been in this kind of mood was when he’d first seen the face of his baby girl.
My version of Joe’s day had been terrifying.
I could still hear his breathless voice over the phone saying I had to come quick—he had Clement Hubbell in custody.
I had moved like there was a bomb tied to my tail. I got hold of the SWAT commander and said I’d get authorization later. I hoped to hell I could. I’d jumped into the lead SUV for the warp-speed race to Edgehill Mountain, the whole way hoping we would get there in time.
Now that it was behind us, I pictured SWAT battering down the red door, the hinges popping, the door lying down like a big red tongue on the floor as a dozen men with shields up and guns drawn stormed the kitchen. Joe was at the table with a muffin in his hand, sitting beside a shocked old woman, who’d huffed, “You could have knocked.”
Joe had started grinning like a kid who’d unlocked the parental controls on the adult entertainment channels—and that was before Hubbell had been booked.
I was still in post-adrenaline shock and kept thinking about how badly it could have gone. My husband could have died.
“You’re so tense,” Joe said, stretching out an arm, pulling me toward him.
“Pretty happy with yourself, aren’t you, hon?”
He laughed. “You bet I am. After all these years as a desk jockey, I still have the goods.”
He wrapped both arms around me, and I lifted my face for his kiss. His mouth and hands felt so good, I tried to let my thoughts go, but I couldn’t.
I was wired: flashing from the Calhoun family massacre, to the Windbreaker cops, to the notes from anonymous cowards accusing me of crossing the thin blue line.
“Lindsay?”
“I’m sorry, Joe. My mind’s still cranking. How about in the morning?” I said. “OK?”
He stroked my hair with his big paw.
“Course it’s OK. Talk to me,” he said.
I snuggled up to him and said the cases involving the dirty cops were still making me crazy. “I no longer know who to trust in the SFPD, not even in our own department.”
I hadn’t been talking long when I realized that Joe’s breathing had deepened and he’d dropped into sleep.
I got out of bed quietly and went to look in on Julie.
Little Miss Precious saw me peering into her crib. She burbled and raised her arms. I picked her up and took her to the chair by the window. I held her against my chest and rocked, all the while watching the traffic on Lake Street.
I saw no suspicious activity.
No men loitering or sitting in dark cars.
I rocked my sweetie until she fell asleep, and soothed by the motion of the chair and her breathing, I finally relaxed. I put her down in her crib and covered her up. Then I checked the locks on the front door and made sure the security system was on.
When all the hatches were battened down, I returned to bed, where my dear husband was alive and well, and maybe dreaming about his ten-star megaday.
I must have slept, because I woke up and looked at the clock. It was quarter after three. After what seemed like a minute, I looked at the clock again.
It was 7:45 a.m.
I had a meeting at eight. I was going to be late.
CHAPTER 91
I CALLED JACOBI from my car and told him I was on the way. He barked, “Damn it, Boxer. Get your ass moving. We’re holding the meeting for you.”
He wasn’t kidding.
