The Trial (Women's Murder Club 15.50)

“Yes, my sweets. Did you have a good nap?”

Catherine came out to meet me. She put her arm around me and walked me and Julie inside her lovely, beachy house near the bay. She had already set up her girls’ old crib, and we tried to put a good spin on this dislocation for Julie, but Julie wasn’t buying it. She could and did go from smiles to stratospheric protests when she was unhappy.

I didn’t want to leave her, either.

I turned to Cat and said, “I’ve texted Joe. He’s on call for whenever you need him. He’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Sounds good,” she said. “I like having a man around the house. Especially one with a gun.”

“Don’t worry,” Cat and I said in unison.

We laughed, hugged, kissed, and then I shushed Julie and told Martha that she was in charge.

I had my hand on my gun when I left Cat’s house and got into my car. I stayed in radio contact with my escorts, and with one car in the lead and the other behind me, we started back up the coast to my apartment on Lake Street.

I gripped the wheel so hard my hands hurt, which was preferable to feeling them shake. I stared out at the taillights in front of me. They looked like the malevolent red eyes of those monsters you see in horror movies. Kingfisher was worse than all of them put together.

I hated being afraid of him.

I hated that son of a bitch entirely.

Chapter 22

An hour after I got home to my dark and empty apartment, Joe’s name lit up the caller ID.

I thumbed the On button, nearly shouting, “What’s wrong?”

“Linds, I’ve got information for you,” he said.

“Where are you?”

“On 280 South. Cat called me. Julie is inconsolable. I know I agreed that it was safe to take her there, but honestly, don’t you think it would have made more sense for me to come over and stay with the two of you on Lake Street?”

I was filled with complex and contradictory rage.

It was true that it would have been easier, more expeditious, for Joe to have checked into our apartment, slept on our sofa instead of Cat’s. True that along with my security detail, we would have been safe right here.

But I wasn’t ready for Joe to move back in for a few nights—or whatever. Because along with my justifiable rage, I still loved a man I no longer completely trusted.

“I had to make a quick decision, Joe,” I snapped. “What’s the information?”

“Reliable sources say that there’s Mexican gang activity on the move in San Francisco.”

“Could you be more specific?”

“Hey. Blondie. Could you please take it easy?”

“Okay. Sorry,” I said. The line was silent. I said, “Joe. Are you still there?”

“I’m sorry, too. I don’t like anything about this guy. I’ve heard that Mala Sangre ‘killer elites’ have come to town to deliver on Kingfisher’s threats. Los Toros activity has also been noted.”

“Gang war?”

“I’ve told you all I know.”

“Thanks, Joe. Drive safe. Call me if Julie doesn’t settle down.”

“Copy that,” said Joe. “Be careful.”