Her name was Miranda and she played “Dora” on a daytime TV show I had never seen, but Mrs. Rose had almost fainted when Miranda walked in the door.
We were all having cocktails. Mrs. Rose had refused the invitation to be my date. She had a new grandchild and was glad to get out of my house.
I gave her a hug and a check and she patted my arm and said, “Have fun. I’ll be here in the morning.”
Brady came into the open kitchen looking for the corkscrew. He opened a bottle of wine and said, “Whatever is cooking is making me slobber.”
I laughed. “Ten more minutes. That’s all. Just ten.”
Yuki followed Brady in, put her arms around his waist, and kissed his back. God, it had been a long time coming, but these two were just made for each other.
“Do you need help with the salad dressing?” she asked me.
“Of course I do,” I said.
Out in the living room, Edmund was roaring with laughter; Claire was, too, at something Miranda had said, and Jacobi was flushed in a very good way. Cindy was in the big chair, holding Julie on her lap. If or when to have babies had been the big logjam in her otherwise wonderful relationship with Richie, and I think every time she comes to my house, she’s trying Julie on to see if she can imagine herself as a mom.
I saw Richie standing behind the sofa, looking at Cindy holding Julie. Wow. He was in love.
As for me, I ached more than a little.
Joe had been over a few times to see Julie, and it was a meltingly beautiful thing to see them together. But I had never let him stay the night or even for a meal.
I just wasn’t ready. And I didn’t know how I would ever be ready. He had lied. He was mysterious. I didn’t know where he was living, what he was doing, or how I could ever fit in with a man I no longer trusted.
It was Brady, of all people, who helped me take the roast out of the oven. Claire got the vegetables onto the table and Edmund poured the wine.
Richie was clinking his glass with a spoon, saying, “Lindsay, it’s wonderful to be here. I’m personally so glad you had help with the cooking, since we all know you can’t even make coffee.”
Everyone laughed, even Julie and me.
The buzzer rang from downstairs.
Claire said, “That’s the dessert. I’m not telling you from where. Just get away from the door so I can still make it a surprise.”
Claire is a chocoholic, and I say that’s a good thing.
I said, “OK, surprise me.”
I went back to the table and Claire pressed the buzzer. A minute later, I heard the door latch open and Claire say, “You’re not the cake.”
So what was this?
I got halfway to the door and saw my husband standing there in the hallway.
He said, “Geez, Lindsay, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
I said to my bosom buddy, “Claire. You set this up.”
“Me? No. Not me. No way. I would never do anything like this. Nuh-uh.”
And she melted away from the door.
Joe had a bunch of roses in his hand. He looked like the prince who woke up Sleeping Beauty with a kiss. Handsome. Expectant. And like, maybe, his steed was tethered down at the curb. I stared into his face and saw the lines in his forehead, which were deeper than they had been a couple of months ago. He had some gray at his temples that I hadn’t noticed before.
I stood at the door, feet firmly planted, blocking the entrance.
He said, “Lindsay?”
I honestly didn’t know what to do or say.
Let him in?
Or say, “Not now. Maybe some other time.”
MEET THE WOMEN’S MURDER CLUB
Four women sit at their usual table in Susie’s bar, and the conversation, as always, is murder…
LINDSAY BOXER
A homicide detective in the San Francisco Police Department, juggling the worst murder cases with the challenges of being a first-time mother. Her loving husband Joe, baby daughter Julie and loyal border-collie Martha give her a reason to protect the city. She’s not had the easiest start in life, with an absent father and an ill mother, and she doesn’t shy away from a difficult career. Keeping control of her head and her heart can be tough, but with the help of her friends, Lindsay makes it her mission to solve the toughest cases.
CLAIRE WASHBURN
Chief Medical Examiner for San Francisco and one of Lindsay’s oldest friends. Wise, confident and viciously funny, she can be relied on to help, whatever the problem. She virtually runs the Office of the Coroner for her overbearing, credit-stealing boss, but rarely complains. You may hear her called ‘Butterfly’ thanks to a tattoo just below her waist. Happily married with children, her personal life is relatively calm in comparison to her time in the Women’s Murder Club.
CINDY THOMAS
An up-and-coming journalist who’s always looking for the next big story. She’ll go the extra mile, risking life and limb to get her scoop. Sometimes she prefers to grill her friends over cocktails for a juicy secret, but, luckily for them, she’s totally trustworthy – most of the time … She’s just published a book, somehow finding the time to write between solving cases, writing articles for the San Francisco Chronicle and keeping her on–off relationship with Lindsay’s partner, Rich Conklin, together. Other than reading, she loves yoga and jazz music.
YUKI CASTELLANO
One of the best lawyers in the city, and desperate to make her mark. Ambitious, intelligent and passionate, she’ll fight for what’s right, defending the underdog even if it means standing in the way of those she loves. Often this includes her husband – who is also Lindsay’s boss – Lt. Jackson Brady. Her friends can barely get a word in edgeways when she’s around, unless she’s got a Germain-Robin sidecar in her hand!
WHEN YOUR JOB IS MURDER, YOU NEED FRIENDS YOU CAN COUNT ON.