11th hour

Chapter 117

Jacobi and I were having dinner at Aziza, a Moroccan restaurant; aromatic, homey, decorated in deep, earthy tones, and fragrant with all the spices of Arabia.

Jacobi’s color was good and he was wearing a blue sweater that made him look years younger than his age. Better than he’d looked in a long time.

“William Randall died without gaining consciousness,” Jacobi told me. “Good side of that is that he wasn’t convicted of anything. His widow will still get his pension.”

“You think Randall knew that Chaz Smith was a dirty cop?” Jacobi shrugged. “He could have known. It’s very possible. Ah. I got back the ballistics, Lindsay.”

“Are you going to tell me something bad, Jacobi? Because I just want to catch up and have dinner.”

“The shot to Randall’s kidney came from Brady’s gun.

That was the kill shot, and since Brady’s going to be on leave for a while, it won’t matter if he has to be without his gun and badge while we prove he fired on Randall in self-defense.”

“Don’t tell me I have to keep running the squad, Jacobi. I really don’t want to do it.”

“I’m going to be running the squad. Me.”

“Yeah?” I grinned. I liked what Jacobi was saying. A lot. “Until Brady returns and I can move back upstairs to my nice office with its beautiful view of Bryant Street.”

I slapped his hand above the plate of couscous, lifted my virgin mojito, and said, “Here’s to having you back in the corner office.”

Jacobi grinned and clinked his glass against mine, and then he laughed.

“I’m not going to let you cowboy around while I’m running the squad.”

“Oh, like you can change me. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“You’ve got a baby in the oven, Boxer — ”

“I think that’s ‘bun in the oven’ — ”

“And I’m part of your family. Don’t forget that I walked you down the aisle on the happiest day of your life.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

I hadn’t forgotten a minute of that day. Me on Jacobi’s arm. Walking on rose petals. Seeing my husband-to-be waiting for me in the gazebo overlooking the sea.

I put my hand on my tummy, stared off into space, then came back to the moment when I realized that Jacobi was staring at me.

“Is something wrong, Boxer?”

I touched his hand. “You were terrific that day. Standing up for me.”

“It was a great honor.”

His eyes showed me what I already knew. How much he cared. How close we had been and would always be.

“I’m going to get sloppy,” I said. “Brace yourself.”

“No, no, please don’t do that,” he joked.

I got up and went around the table and he stood up, and I hugged him really hard. I said into his ear, “I missed you, Warren. I’m so glad you’re coming back.”