3rd Degree (Women's Murder Club 3)

“No,” she said, “I just took something. I want to go to sleep. I have to be in court tomorrow.”

“I’m proud of you, Jilly.”

“I’m proud of me, too. You’re not going to mind if I need a little hand-holding over the next few weeks?”

“No hand I’d rather hold. I’m giving you a big hug, honey. Get some sleep. And here’s some advice from a cop: Keep that door locked.”

I hung up the phone. It was going on two in the morning, but I didn’t care. I wanted to call Claire or Cindy and tell them the news.

Jill finally booted the asshole out!

Chapter 54

“HEY, LIEUTENANT,” Cappy Thomas shouted as I walked in the following morning. “Leeza Gibbons on the line. Entertainment Tonight? Wants to know if you can do lunch.”

I had made the mistake of calling Jacobi from the plane last night, and maybe gave a few too many details about the day. Some snickers rippled around the squad room.

I took some hot water back to my desk. A light was flashing on my phone. I punched it in.

“Listen, LT”—Jacobi’s voice—“me and the missus were thinking about heading over to the Big Island sometime in July. Any chance you can snag the G-3?”

I punched off the line, spooning a pouch of Red Zinger into my mug.

“Hey, LT, phone!” Cappy yelled again.

This time I picked it up and snapped, “Look, I didn’t sleep with him, I didn’t ask for the jet, and while you bozos were scratching your balls back here, I actually moved the homicide case along.”

“I guess that’ll have to do as an update.” Cindy laughed.

“Oh God…” I lowered my head, letting the blood drain from my face.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t call to bust your chops. I’ve got news.”

“I’ve got news, too,” I said, thinking of Jill. “Yours first.” Cindy’s tone was urgent, so I didn’t think she was talking about Jill.

“Your fax should be ringing any second.”

Just then Brenda knocked on my window, and handed me Cindy’s transmittal.

Another e-mail.

“This was on my computer when I got to work this morning,” Cindy said.

I was jolted back to reality. This time the sending address was [email protected]

The message was only one line: That wasn’t us in Portland.

It was signed, August Spies.

Chapter 55

“I’VE GOT TO TAKE this upstairs,” I said, shooting out of my chair, almost pulling the phone out of the wall. I was halfway up to Tracchio’s office before I realized I forgot to tell Cindy about Jill. Things were going too fast now.

“He’s behind closed doors,” his secretary warned. “You’d better wait.”

“This can’t wait,” I said, and pushed the door open. Tracchio was used to my barging in.

He was facing me, seated at his conference table. He was flanked by two others with their backs to me. One was Tom Roach, the local FBI liaison.