11th Hour (Women's Murder Club 11)

“Yes, sir.”

I watched Brady get into his car, then I pulled out my phone, saw three messages from Joe, and ignored them. I arranged dog-sitting for Martha, then leaned back.

I must have sighed. “So you ready to tell me what’s going on, Linds? I’m not going to leave you alone until you spill.”

My mind was still in high gear, boosted by my surging hormones and the whole crappy day.

“Have you cheated on Cindy?” I asked him.

His mouth fell open and he stared at me, a look of shock and disappointment on his face I hadn’t seen in all the years I’d known him.

“Why would you ask me that? Is that what she thinks? Did Cindy say that to you?”

“No. So, have you, Rich?”

“No. Hell no. Seriously, is this what you’ve been thinking? Is this what’s got you all jammed up?”

Conklin’s gaze left me, went past me and through my window, but his shocked expression didn’t change. I heard a hard rapping on the glass.

I swung my head, saw Jacobi’s face right there. He was scowling. He knew that we weren’t parked on his street by accident.

He signaled to me to roll down my window, and I did it.

All I could get out of my mouth was “Jacobi” before he lit into me, lit into us both.

“How nice of you to visit. You are visiting, right, Boxer? You too, Conklin. My old friends, stopping by to see how I’m getting along?”

“It’s a stakeout,” I said miserably.

“You’re tailing me.”

I dropped my head. I was ashamed and mortified. Jacobi gripped the window frame and shook it as if he were rattling bars on a cage.

“You think I’m that Revenge shooter? Is that it, Boxer? I don’t hear from you for weeks, months, then, suddenly, ‘Can you help me with my cases, Warren?’

“I don’t know how many thousands of hours I worked with both of you,” he spat. “Put my life in your hands and vice versa.” He looked at me, then at Conklin, then turned his hooded eyes back to me.

“You turn my stomach, both of you.”

“Jacobi, I’m sorry. Wait!”

“That’s Chief. Chief Jacobi.” He turned away, stalked off with his wooden gait. The silence in the car rang like a bell.

Conklin said, “I’m going after him.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I called Brady.

“Is Jacobi leaving the house?” he asked me.

“Brady, he made us. He made us and he called us out.”

Chapter 73

CONKLIN CAME HOME to the apartment he shared with Cindy. It was completely dark except for the light in the kitchen. That meant that Cindy had been working for hours and hadn’t gotten up to turn on the rest of the lights.

He put his keys in the dish on the hall table, called out, “Honey, I’m home.” Heard a faint “Hey” in response.