Second Chance

Chapter 44

I WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER what I was doing when I heard the news. I was home, tending a pot of farfalle on the stove. “Adia” by Sarah Mclachlan was playing on the stereo.

Claire was coming over. I'd lured her for dinner with my famous pasta with asparagus and lemon sauce. Not lured her, actually... begged. I wanted to talk about something other than the case. Her kids, yoga, the California Senate race, why the Warriors sucked. Anything.

I will never forget... Martha sat toying with a headless San Francisco Giants mascot bear that she had appropriated to her side of the property list. I was chopping basil; I checked on the pasta. Tasha Catchings and Art Davidson had drifted out of my mind. Thank God.

The phone rang. A selfish thought knifed through me, hoping that it wasn't Claire bagging out of our date at the last minute.

I cradled the phone in the nape of my neck and answered.

It was Sam Ryan, the department's chief of detectives.

Ryan was my administrative superior in the chain of command. At the sound of his voice, I knew something had to be seriously wrong.

“Lindsay, something terrible has happened.”

My body went numb. It was like someone had reached inside my chest and squeezed my heart in their indifferent fist. I listened to Ryan speak. Three shots from point-blank range... Only a few yards from his house. Oh, my God... Mercer... “Where is he, Sam?”

“Moffitt. Emergency surgery. He's fighting.”

“I'll be right down. I'm on my way.”

“Lindsay, there's nothing you can do here. Get out to the scene.”

“Chin and Lorraine will cover it. I'll be right down.”

The doorbell buzzed. As if in a trance, I rushed over, opened it.

“Hey,” said Claire.

I didn't say a word. In an instant, she recognized the pallor on my face. “What's happened?”

My eyes were wet. “Claire... he shot Chief Mercer.”