“I feel numb.”
“Looks like an exhibit fell on you. I’m going to try to move it. Hang on.”
“Tell my husband … Robbie … I love. Him. The key is in the tackle … box.”
“You get to tell him yourself, Sophie. Listen. We’re a team now. I’m going to try to move this junk off you. The visibility in here really sucks. If anything hurts you, shout out.”
Sophie moaned and then she was quiet again.
Joe sized up the six-by-six-by-twelve-foot case, which was part metal, part glass, with jagged edges and what looked to be a heavy steel base. If he could get a decent angle and a good grip … if he could lift and shove at the same time … if Sophie weren’t pinned by something he couldn’t see underneath the display cabinet … a whole lot of ifs.
He at least had to try.
He told Sophie what he was going to do on the count of three, and then, hoping to God he could do it, Joe got his arms around the plastic backing, bent his knees under the base, and heaved.
There was a good deal of creaking and rocking, but the exhibit shifted off the woman’s body and then stabilized. Joe was pretty sure Sophie should be able to move if her back wasn’t broken.
He asked her, “Sophie, can you roll onto your side so that you’re facing me?”
Joe never got an answer.
There was a small blue flash up ahead, like an arc of electricity, followed immediately by a concussive boom. Something heavy struck the back of Joe’s head. Sparks flashed in front of his eyes as, weightless, he fell through the dark.
CHAPTER 4
I WAS IN a state of high anxiety as I stood upstream of the exodus from Pier 15, with a clear view of the halogen-lit incident scene.
Uniformed cops moved barricades into place on the Embarcadero, closing it off from Bay Street to Market, shutting down local traffic.
The incident commander, wearing a neon-yellow vest, directed ambulances toward the internal parking area inside Pier 9, which had now become a staging area for medical units.
Fire trucks with lights flashing and sirens on full blast drove over the sidewalk and up to the entrance gate. Men and women wearing EMT vests gathered and stood ready as the firefighters went in.
Joe had said, “Back in five.”
Time was up. When he said that, had he truly believed that a quick look at the scene would take only five minutes? His estimate was off, but I resisted the fierce temptation to call him, telling myself that he was working hard and fast and couldn’t take time to call me. Still, I was in tremendous conflict. Was Joe in trouble? Had something happened to him inside that bomb site? Should I just stand here? Or should I get help?
I looked at my watch. He’d been gone for twelve minutes. Now thirteen.
I phoned Mrs. Rose, my neighbor, my friend and babysitter. I yelled over the noise that I was near Sci-Tron. That I wouldn’t be home until late. I was calling Brady when, as if tapping the keypad had triggered it, another bomb went off.
The force of that explosion obliterated every other sound, including my own voice screaming, “Joe!”
I broke for the entrance to the pier, but before I reached it, I was stopped by three firefighters, who blocked my way and pulled me off to the side and out of harm’s way.
I fought back.
“Jesus Christ. I’m a cop. My husband’s in there. Give me some help, would you please? I have to find him.”
One of the firefighters said to me, “Officer, you can’t go in, not now. Please stand back. Stand there. We’ll get him out as soon as we can.”
The firefighters were doing their best to control an unstable situation, and I didn’t hold it against them. I stood where I’d been directed to stand, out of the path of the rescue squads and with a pretty good view of what had been Sci-Tron’s entrance. I prayed that Joe would walk out onto the sidewalk.
Please, God. Let Joe be safe.
That’s what was in my mind when the medical examiner’s refrigerated trailer rumbled through an opening in the barricades and parked on the trolley tracks that ran down the middle of the Embarcadero.
I turned away from the mobile morgue and looked out over the bay as I called Joe’s number again and again, hitting the Redial button incessantly and getting no reply.