Page 93 of Unlucky 13 (Women's Murder Club 13)
JOE CALLED OUT to me from the foyer, “I’ll be back in an hour, Blondie. And that’s a promise, more or less.”
“Godspeed,” I called back.
I was in a hurry, closing the snaps on Julie’s pastel-striped onesie and looking for her knitted hat with the daisy in front, when the phone rang. I’d ducked her calls too often.
“Cindy—hey.”
“Tell me everything,” she said.
I was glad to hear her voice. It had been a while.
“Joe’s picking up Martha from the vet and I’m using my lunch hour to take Julie to the park.”
Cindy laughed, said, “That’s fascinating, but I meant, tell me everything about Brady and Yuki.”
I only had time to give her the Twitter version, so no need to go off the record. I told her that Brady had made an appearance at the squad this morning and was going to be back on the job as soon as he was able to pull a full day.
“Lost part of his ear,” I told her. “An earlobe. Four br
oken ribs, too, but he’s going to be fine.”
“Whoaaa. And Yuki?”
“Yuki is down to about two-thirds her fighting weight, which means she couldn’t go one round with a chicken. But she seems pretty good, all things considered. She’s going to take off work for a couple weeks.”
“Sure. She probably needs to sleep with both eyes closed.”
“She said the ground is still moving under her feet.”
Julie was fussing, gearing up for a tantrum. I picked her up while keeping the phone between my ear and shoulder. I unfolded the stroller with one hand and said to Cindy, “How are you? Just the headlines.”
“Everything is good, well, except for.” Cindy’s voice dropped. “Morales.”
I looked at the time. I had a meeting with Jacobi in forty-eight minutes and I hadn’t left the house.
Cindy was saying, “I still worry, you know. That she’s got it in for you.”
I said, “Please don’t worry about me, Cindy. Please? I’m a cop. I carry a gun. And now I’ve got a playdate with my bossy baby girl.”
We said good-bye and I strapped my precious daughter into her stroller.
“Wow, you look amazing with that hat,” I said. “Hold it.”
I got my phone. I took Julie’s picture and sent it to Joe.
“Are you ready?” I asked Julie.
And then I said her lines, too.
“‘Ready? It’s about time you got off the danged phone. I certainly am ready to go to the park, Mom.’
“All right, baby girl. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 104
THE SUNLIGHT WAS soft and the air was scented with eucalyptus. In fact, I could almost smell the ocean, too, as I walked Julie’s stroller through my neighborhood, its diversity reflected in the restaurants and shops.
I wanted to enjoy this unexpected quality time with Julie.
