4th of July

Chapter 14

I WOKE UP IN a sweat, having thrashed my Egyptian cotton sheets to a fine froth. I took a couple of Tylenol for the pain and a sky blue Valium the shrink had given me, then I stared at the pattern the streetlights cast on the ceiling.

I rolled carefully onto my uninjured side and looked at the clock: 12:15. I’d only been asleep for an hour and I had the feeling I was in for a really long night.

“Martha. Here, girl.”

My pal jumped onto the bed and settled into the fetal hollow I made with my body. In a minute, her legs twitched as she herded sheep in her sleep while my brain continued to churn with Tracchio’s new neatly hedged version of “Don’t worry about nothin’.”

To wit:

“You’re gonna need two attorneys, Boxer. Mickey Sherman will represent you on behalf of the SFPD, but you’ll need your own lawyer to defend you in case . . . well, in case you’ve done something outside the scope of your job.”

“Then what? I’m on my own?”

I was hoping the drugs would tumble my mind off the hard edge of consciousness into the comfort of slumber, but it didn’t happen. Mentally, I ticked off the remains of the day, the meetings I’d set up with Sherman and my lawyer, a young woman called Ms. Castellano. Molinari had recommended her highly—and it means something when you get a rave review from the deputy director of Homeland Security.

Once again I concluded that I was taking good care of myself, given the circumstances. But the coming week was going to be hell. I needed something to look forward to.

I thought of Cat’s house. I hadn’t been there since she had moved in right after her divorce two years ago, but the images of where she lived were unforgettable. Only forty minutes south of San Francisco, Half Moon Bay was a little bit of paradise. There was a crescent-shaped bay with a sandy beach, redwood forests, and a panoramic ocean view, and it was warm enough in June to relax on Cat’s sunporch and bleach the ugly pictures from my brain.

I simply couldn’t wait until morning. I called my sister at quarter to one. Her voice was husky with sleep.

“Lindsay, of course I meant it. Come whenever you like. You know where the keys are.”

I fixed my thoughts on Half Moon Bay, but every time I nodded off dreaming of paradise, I snapped awake, my heart racing like a cyclotron. Fact was, my looming court date had taken hold of my mind and I couldn’t think about anything else.