4th of July

Chapter 69

WHEN WE GOT BACK to Cat’s house, there was a patrol car in the driveway, and Chief Stark was walking toward us. He looked as grim as ever, brow scrunched up, with a haunted look in his eyes that was actually contagious.

“What is it, Chief? What’s happened now?”

“The ME’s starting the posts on the Sarduccis,” he said, squinting into the sun. “This is your formal invitation.”

I felt a surge of excitement that I masked out of consideration for the chief. I introduced Cindy and Claire.

“Dr. Washburn is the CME in San Francisco,” I said. “Okay for her to come along?”

“Sure, why not?” the chief grunted. “Take all the help I can get. I’m learning, right?”

Cindy looked at the three of us and saw that she wasn’t being included in the invitation. Hell, she was the press.

“I get it,” she said good-naturedly. “Look, I’ll hang out here, no problem. I’ve got my laptop and a deadline. Plus, I’m a leper.”

Claire and I got back into the Bonneville and followed the chief’s car out to the highway.

“This is great,” I said, my enthusiasm brimming over. “He’s letting me into the case.”

“What am I doing?” Claire said, shaking her head. “Aiding and abetting your completely ill-advised involvement when we both know you should be out on the porch with a gin and tonic, your butt in a chair and your legs over the railing.”

I laughed. “Admit it,” I said. “You’re hooked, too. You can’t turn away from this thing, either.”

“You’re nuts,” she grumbled. Then she looked over at me. My grin set hers off.

“You kill me, Lindsay. You really do. But it’s your ass, baby.”

Ten minutes later, we followed Stark’s car off the highway into Moss Beach.