The 17th Suspect (Women's Murder Club 17)

“Don’t you feel it?” she said. “That we’re kind of drifting apart?”

There was some silence before Brady said, “I see. I see. I’m neglecting you.”

He disengaged from their embrace, seemed flustered or as if he was looking for the right words. He sipped his water before saying, “Jacobi unloaded a pile of administrative work on me. He just can’t handle it all anymore. On top of that and every other dog biting my butt, I’m primary on that attempted murder and suicide.”

Yuki had heard about the case. A woman had left divorce court and driven her car onto a sidewalk and into her husband, his girlfriend, and the husband’s lawyer. Then she had sped to the Golden Gate Bridge, climbed over the railing, and jumped to her death.

Brady said, “The husband and girlfriend are okay, but the lawyer is in ICU. If he dies, it’s got to be processed as a homicide, even though the killer already self-inflicted the death penalty.”

Yuki said, “See, I miss talking like this. Even about work. Hearing what you’re thinking about.”

He tipped up her chin and pecked her lips. When dinner came, Yuki turned down another drink. Brady ate like he hadn’t eaten in the last twenty-four hours. After he had put down his knife and fork, he asked her to b

ring him up to speed on her woman-on-man rape case.

While she was telling him, he glanced at his phone a couple or three times, saying “Hang on” and “’Scuse me,” returning texts before shutting the phone off.

“Sorry,” he said. “Work. My phone is always open.”

He couldn’t turn off his phone for an hour? That clinging sadness she’d been carrying around had finally lightened, and now it was weighing her down again.

They skipped dessert and coffee. Later that night when they were both in bed, and rain clouds veiled, then revealed, the full moon outside their bedroom window, Yuki lay wide awake.

Had Brady been telling her the truth when he said he was just overly busy? Or was he keeping something from her?

What in the world was wrong?

CHAPTER 31

YUKI DROPPED OFF to sleep sometime after two and slept through the alarm that went off at half past seven. Later, when she started awake, Brady’s side of the bed was empty.

She would just get to work on time if she pulled herself together fast—and somehow she did it, walking smartly through the doorway to the DA’s suite of offices at nine fifteen. Apart from the fact that her hair was still damp, she was good to go.

The DA’s office was organized with small windowed rooms at the perimeter, surrounding a maze of cubicles at the center. The cubes were fully occupied with paralegals and assistants on the phones, making casework hum.

As Yuki passed Len’s corner office, his assistant, Toni Reynolds, who manned the desk outside his door, waved her down.

“Yuki, Len needs to see you and Arthur. Right away.”

“Now?”

“As soon as his meeting breaks up,” Toni said. “Oh.

Good. Here’s Arthur. Both of you, please sit down. He’ll be right with you.”

Yuki was surprised at this summons to Len’s office. “Right away”? What had happened?

Yuki and Arthur had hardly settled into chairs in the hallway when Len Parisi’s office door blew open.

Len’s assistant said to Yuki, “I hope you don’t mind, but I had to coordinate a lot of schedules. Judge Rathburn wants to see all concerned at ten.”

Yuki didn’t know why the judge wanted to see them, and she didn’t get a chance to ask. Parisi appeared in his doorway looking exasperated and told Yuki and Art to come in.

They took the love seat and watched the big man edge behind his cluttered mahogany desk and sink heavily into his chair.

He moved stacks of papers around on his desk, lined up his pens, then got into the business at hand.

“Giftos filed a motion to suppress the sex video,” he said. “That video is all we’ve got. I’ve never felt at peace with that. Rathburn is reasonable,” he said. “He listens and he can be reached. Don’t let Giftos intimidate you, Yuki. And he will try.”