First to Die

Chapter 64

THE THREE OF US leaned against a stone wall in City Hall Park, picking at salad sandwiches we had bought at a nearby grocer's. The murder club meets again. "You were right," I said to Claire. I passed her a copy of the security photo showing Red Beard sneaking into the Cleveland wedding. She stared at it, her eyes focusing intensely. Claire looked up only when the confirmation of her first physical supposition brought out a curious half smile. "I only read whatever that bastard left behind." "Maybe," I said, tossing her a wink. "But I bet Righetti would've missed it." "This is true," she allowed with a satisfied beam. It was a bright, breezy late-June day; the air was fragrant from a crisp Pacific breeze. Office folk worked on their tans; secretaries gabbed in groups. I recounted what I had found in Cleveland. I never mentioned what had taken place by the lake between Chris Raleigh and me. When I finished with Merrill Shortley's shocking revelation, Cindy said, "Maybe you should've stayed out there, Lindsay." I shook my head. "It's not my case. I was only there on a consult. Now I'm running point between three jurisdictions." "You Uiink Merrill Shortley has more to tell?" asked Claire. "I don't think so. If she knew, I think she would have told me." "The bride must have had other friends here," said Cindy. "She was in publicity. If this guy was famous, maybe she met him through her job." I nodded. "I have someone checking that out. We also have the Seattle PD combing through her apartment." "Where'd she work when she lived here?" Claire asked. "An outfit called Bright Star Media. Apparently, she was connected into the local music scene." Cindy took a sip of iced tea. "Why not let me have a go at it?" "You mean like you did at the Hyatt?" I said. She grinned. "No, more like Napa. C'mon… I'm a reporter. I sit all day with people trained to find the dirt on anybody." I bit into my sandwich. "Okay," I finally said, "be my guest." "In the meantime," Cindy inquired, "can I run with what we have so far?" Much of it was classified. If it came out, it would point back to me. "You can run with the similar pattern of murder in Cleveland. How we found the bodies. The bride's back217 ground here. Absolutely no mention of Merrill Shortley." In that way, I hoped the killer would sense that we were closing in on him. It might cause him to think twice about killing again. Cindy went over to a nearby ice cream cart to buy a gelato. Claire took the moment to ask, "So how are you feeling? You okay?" I blew out a long breath and shrugged. "Queasy. Lightheaded. I was told to expect it. I'm having a blood treatment this afternoon. Medved said he'd be there." I saw Cindy on her way back. "Here," Cindy announced brightly. She was carrying three gelatos. Claire clutched her chest and pretended she was going into cardiac arrest. "I need gelato about as much as Texas needs a warm breeze in August." "Me, too." I laughed. But it was mango, and with the infection attacking me inside, it seemed like wasted caution to refuse. Claire ended up taking hers, too. "So what you specifically haven't told us," she said with a slow roll of her tongue, "is what went on between you and Mr. Chris Raleigh in Oh hi-oh." ""Cause there was nothing to tell," I said and shrugged. "One thing about cops" -Cindy laughed" is you would think they would learn how to lie." "You writing for the gossip page now?" I asked. Against my will, I felt my face blush. Claire and Cindy's greedy eyes bore down on me, driving home that it was pointless to resist. I pulled a knee up on the edge of the wall and sat yoga style. Then I took them through where things stood: the long, slow dance in my apartment, eliciting "You don't dance, girl," from Claire. "You cook." I described the anticipation of sitting next to him on the plane; the nervous walk down by the lake; my own doubts, hesitation; the inner conflicts holding me back. "Basically, it took every bit of self-control not to rip his clothes off right there on Lakefront Walk." I laughed at how it must have sounded. "Girl, why didn't you?" Claire said, wide-eyed. "Might've done you some good." "I don't know," I said, shaking my head. But I did know. And though she tried to smile through it, Claire knew, too. She squeezed my hand. Cindy looked on, not knowing what was going on. Claire joked, "I'd give up losing twenty pounds to see Cheery's expression if the two of you got picked up for going at it in the woods." "Two San Francisco cops," announced Cindy in a newscaster tone, "in Cleveland in pursuit of the bride and groom killer, were discovered cm naturel in the bushes by the Cleveland waterfront." The three of us choked with laughter, and it felt so good. Cindy shrugged. "That, Lindsay, I would've had to print." "From now on" -Claire giggled"I can see things growing pretty humid in that squad car." "I don't think that's Chris's style," I defended him. "You forget, the man's into The Shipping News." "Oh… it's Chris now, huh?" mooned Claire. "And don't be so sure about that. Edmund plays three instruments, knows everything from Bartok to Keith Jarrett, but he's risen to the occasion in some very unexpected places." "Like where?" I laughed, the surprise caught in my throat. She coyly shook her head. "I just don't want you thinking that 'cause a man keeps himself with a certain dignity there's any dignity when it comes to that." "C'mon," I exhorted, "you put it in play. Let's hear." "Let's just say that a few John Does aren't the only thing that have been stiff on our examining tables." I almost fumbled my gelato onto the ground. "You've got to be kidding. You? And Edmund?" Claire's shoulders jiggled in delight. "As long as I've gone this far… Once we did it in a parterre box at the symphony. After a rehearsal, of course." "Whatta you guys do? Just go around leaving your mark like poodles?" I exclaimed. Claire's round face broadened with delight. "You know, it was a long time ago. But as I think of it, that time in my office at the coroner's Christmas party- that wasn't so long ago." "As long as we're baring our souls," injected Cindy, "when I first got to the Chronicle I had this fling with one of the senior guys from Datebook. We used to meet down in the library. In the far reaches of the Real Estate section. Nobody ever went there." Cindy scrunched her face, abashed, but Claire cackled with approval. I was amazed. I was learning the hidden, suppressed side of a person I had known for ten years. But there was a little shame building in me as well. I didn't have a story. "So," Claire said, looking at me. "What's Inspector Boxer got to share from her closet?" I tried to recall a single moment when I'd done something totally crazy. I mean, when it came to sex I didn't think of myself as someone who held back. But somehow, no matter how hard I searched my memory, my passion always ended up between the sheets. I shrugged, empty-handed. "Well, you better get started," Claire said with a wag of her ringer. "When I'm drawing my last breath, I won't be thinking about all those fancy degrees or conferences 1 spoke at. You only have a few times in your life to really cut loose, so you might as well take them when they come." A little tremor of remorse knifed through me. At that moment, I didn't know what I wanted more: my place on the list- or a goddamn name for Red Beard. I suppose I wanted both.