The 5th Horseman (Women's Murder Club 5)

“Okay, okay, Officer. I have it here. What was I doing wrong?”

“Your license, please.”

“Sure,” Yuki said, shielding her eyes from the light.

She turned away, rooting in her handbag, spilling credit cards and change out of her wallet. She seemed very nervous, not herself at all. She finally located her license and handed it over.

Jacobi took the license to his car. Ran it through the computer, giving her time to think. Then he walked back through the hard, slanting rain and asked Yuki to get out of her car.

“You want me to get out of my car?”

“That’s right. Get out and put your hands on the hood. Mind if I take a look inside here? Anything you want to tell me about? A weapon? Any illegal substances?”

“Warren? Is that you? It’s me, Yuki. What’s this about?”

“That’s what I want to know.”

Yuki was getting soaked, her hair falling over her eyes, making her look like a wet Yorkie. She was wearing sweatpants, a thin T-shirt, beaded bedroom slippers, no socks. Her teeth were chattering.

Jacobi flashed his light briefly around the interior of the Acura, then told Yuki, “Okay, you can get back in.”

He watched her buckle up, handed her back her license, and said, “I’ve been behind you for quite a while, Yuki. What the hell were you doing?”

“You were following me?”

“Please answer my question.”

“I was just going for a drive, okay?” she said, getting pissed off now.

“Don’t lie to me. You were following that Mercedes.”

“No—okay. But so what? I’m just, I’m just—it’s nothing!”

“Think about what you’re saying,” he said, raising his voice, wanting to shake her up, wanting to scare her a little.

“If that guy is the whackjob you believe he is, don’t you think he’s going to get you out of his way? C’mon, Yuki, think.”

He watched Yuki make fish lips, coming up with nothing.

“I’m not being a prick here because it gives me a thrill. You’re a nice person and way too smart for this. You’re looking for trouble, and I hope to God you don’t find it.”

Yuki wiped the water off her face with her hands, nodded her head. “Do you have to tell Lindsay?”

“That depends on you.”

“I’ll go home, Warren. I won’t even stop for gas. How’s that sound?”

“That’s fine. By the way, your inspection sticker has expired. Take care of that.”

“Thank you, Warren.”

“Okay. Drive safe. Be good.”

Jacobi walked back to his car, thinking about the job. He had a wistful thought about stopping for a hot meal at the diner near his apartment. Then home for a nightcap and the 49ers game.

He heard the radio sputtering his call numbers as he opened the car door.

Chapter 93