“I know you think that everything that comes out of my mouth is a lie. But it's not. The other night, helping you escape, was the proudest moment of my life. You're my daughter. I love you. I always have.”
My eyes were still wet, and words came out I wished I could grab back. “I want you to go. I want you to pack up and go back to wherever you were for the past twenty years. I'm a cop, Dad, not your little Buttercup. Four people have been killed so far. You're involved somehow. And I have no idea how much you know or what you're hiding.”
My father's face went slack. I could see in the evaporating glow of his eyes how much this hurt.
“I want you out,” I said again. “Right now.”
I sat there, my arms folded around Martha, while he went into the guest room. A few moments later, he came out with his things packed. He looked small suddenly and alone.
Martha's ears stood up. She sensed that something was wrong. She moseyed over to him, and he gently patted her head.
“Lindsay, I know how much reason I've given you to hate me, but don't do this now. You've got to watch out for Coombs. He's going to come after you. Please, let me help.”
My heart was breaking. I knew that the minute he walked out the door, I would never see him again.
“I don't need your help,” I said. Then I whispered, “Good-bye, Daddy.”
Womans Murder Club 2 - Second Chance
Chapter 98
FRANK COOMBS leaned stiffly against a pay phone on the corner of Ninth and Bryant. His eyes were riveted on the Hall of Justice. It had all been leading here.
The pain in his shoulder cut through his body as if someone were probing at the edges of the wound with a scalpel.
For two days he had kept undercover, slipping down to San Bruno, hiding out. But his picture was on the front page of every paper. He had no money. He couldn't even go back and get his things.
It was almost two o'clock. The afternoon sun pierced his dark glasses. There was a crowd on the front steps of the Hall. Lawyers huddling in discussions.
Coombs took in a calming breath. Hell, what do I have to be afraid of? He continued to stare toward the Hall of Justice.
They should be afraid.
The service revolver was holstered to his waist, thanks to old faithful, Tom Keating. The clip was filled with hollow points. He extended his shooting arm. Okay. He could do this.
Coombs turned toward the pay phone. He placed a quarter in the slot and dialed. No more second chances. No more waiting. This was his time. Finally, after twenty-two years in hell.
On the second ring, a voice answered, “Homicide Detail.”
“Put me through to Lieutenant Boxer.”
Womans Murder Club 2 - Second Chance
Chapter 99
WE HAD A LINE on one of Coombs's prison cronies who had fled to Redwood City. I was waiting for a call back.
All morning, I had pushed the murder case forward while in the back of my mind I replayed the devastating scene with my father. Was I right to judge him for things that had happened twenty years before? More important, what was my father's involvement with Chimera?
I was finishing a sandwich at my desk when Karen stuck her head in. “Call on line one, Lieutenant.”
“Redwood City?” I asked as I reached for the phone.
Karen shook her head. “This person said you would know him. Said he was an old friend of your father's.”
My body stiffened. “Put it on four,” I said. Four was the common line shared by the office. “Start a trace, Karen. Now.”
I jumped out of my chair, urgently signaling to Jacobi in the outer room. I held up four fingers, pointing to the phone.
In seconds, the office exploded into a state of alert. Everybody knew this had to be Chimera.
We needed ninety seconds to get a solid read on the trace.
Sixty to narrow it down to a sector of town. If he was even calling from town. Lorraine, Morelli, and Chin all ran in, their faces tight with anticipation.
I picked up the phone. In the squad room, Jacobi picked up as well. “Boxer,” I said.... Anything to keep him on the goddamn line.
