"Okay," she said.

Now they were at Town Hall in SoMa, the former Marine Electric Building, one of the best places around for casual dining with a sophisticated twist.

The interior was dark, with exposed brick, hardwood floors, and subdued lighting. Jackson Brady's hair seemed to draw light from the overhead starburst fixtures that had once hung in the ceiling of a theater in Spanish Harlem.

Yuki was having a margarita, a drink that she loved and that took her out of her misery - and, if she had more than one, out of her mind as well. If she'd ever earned a margarita, today was the day.

"A suspension of the case isn't the worst thing," Brady was saying. He was working on the Cajun shrimp appetizer along with his beer.

"No, it's not the worst thing," Yuki agreed, "but it's still a disaster disaster. You know how many hours I put into that case?"

"Seven thousand?"

Yuki laughed. "Not seven thousand, but a whole h.e.l.l of a lot, and now it looks like that b.i.t.c.h is going to go free."

"Unless you find more evidence."

"Yeah. If we find more evidence, we can still try her with a new jury, but you know, the world turns, the files stack up, some other heinous piece of c.r.a.p is caught, and we mount another case."

"I'll keep the Candace Martin file on my desk."

"Thanks, Jackson. Even if you don't mean it."

"I mean it."

"Now, tell me you don't lie, why don't you?"

"I lie sometimes."

Yuki laughed again. "Well, don't lie to me."

"Okay."

"I'm serious. I've been told that you're married. What's the story?"

"I'm still married."

"f.u.c.k," Yuki said. "Waiter."

Brady took her arm out of the air. "I'm still married. But I hope not for long."

Yuki took a slug of her margarita, set the gla.s.s down, and as the waiter came by, said to him, "Could you take this drink away? Thanks." Then she said to Brady, "Tell me the whole story. I'm listening."

"You remember that shooting incident I told you about?" Brady asked her.

Yuki said, "You shot the guy who came up out of the crack between the bed and the wall holding a semiautomatic."

"Yeah. So Liz and I were already heading our separate ways, and that deal that went down - almost getting whacked, killing the guy, the IAB, the media on our lawn - all that tore it. Whatever thin connection we had left."

"Because you're a cop?"

"Yep. Because I'm a cop," he said. "She wouldn't be the first woman who said, 'I didn't sign up for this.' So after a year, we separated and I moved to San Fran. Alone. Divorce is pending. Pending on how much she can make me beg for it."

"You have kids?"

"Nope."

"Want any?"

"Maybe. I'm forty. But I'm not there yet. How about you?"

"I honestly don't know."

"We don't have to decide tonight," Brady said.

"Okay," Yuki said, laughing. This guy was funny. She liked him. A lot.

The waiter brought the b.u.t.termilk-fried chicken, a side of sauteed greens, and creamy-looking yams, and Yuki felt herself on the verge of coming back to life. She hadn't eaten all day.

Brady picked up his fork, paused with it in the air, and said, "I was going to tell you about Liz."

"I know."

"I was. And I want to ask you something."

Yuki had a forkful of chicken in her mouth. She was getting high from the chicken. She turned her eyes on Brady.

"Mmm-hmm?"

"Will you come home with me tonight?" Brady said.

Chapter 97.

RAIN WAS IN THE FORECAST, but it came down only when Cindy was leaving her office for the day. She stood at the curb under her red umbrella, cold rain blowing up the skirt of her raincoat and soaking her new shoes.

She pulled a wad of tissues out of her pocket and caught the long, high-pitched, trumpeting ahh-chooooooooo-ahh ahh-chooooooooo-ahh, a sneeze that just about took off the top of her head.

It looked like every d.a.m.n cab in the city was taken or off duty. Cindy phoned All-City, the cab company she used regularly, and after listening to background music and ads, she was told, "Sorry, please call back later."

Cindy sneezed again, damm it. Not only was she fighting a cold, she was also half starving and now late for dinner at Susie's. She visualized the back room at Susie's, that haven of warmth - and the name Quick Express leapt into her mind.

She pictured the cab company she'd visited earlier in the week when she was working on the drug-and-rape story. Since then, there had been no reports of the serial rapist, and the story had taken a dive off the front page.

That was the good news and the bad.

Good that she'd scared off that psycho by turning the brights on him with her three-part, above-the-fold story.

Bad because he'd gone underground - and that meant he might never be caught.

Meanwhile, she had a connection in the taxi business. It was just before six. With luck, the dispatcher she'd met, Al Wysocki, would still be on duty. Maybe he'd do her a favor.

Cindy pulled the number up from her phone list and pressed call call. The phone rang and a voice she recognized answered, "Quick Express Taxi and Limo."

"Al Wysocki?"

"This is Al."

"Al, it's Cindy Thomas from the Chronicle Chronicle. I met you a few days ago while I was working on my story."

"Yep, I remember you. Blonde."

"That's me, Al, and I've got a problem. Could you send a cab to the Chronicle? Chronicle? I'm soaked to my skin and I'm late for dinner." I'm soaked to my skin and I'm late for dinner."

"No problem, Ms. Cindy. I'll have someone there in five."

Chapter 98.

CINDY WAS DELIGHTED with herself. She described her raincoat and umbrella to Wysocki, folded her phone, put it in her pocket, and ducked back into the building, where she could see the traffic through the gla.s.s doors.

In five minutes, almost on the nose, a yellow Crown Vic pulled up and the window rolled down. She ran out to the street and immediately recognized the round face of the driver.

"Lady," he said with a grin. "You called a cab?"

"Al, I didn't mean you you should come yourself, but thanks a ton. You're too nice." should come yourself, but thanks a ton. You're too nice."

Cindy closed her umbrella, reached for the door handle, and opened the back door.

"I was going off duty," Wysocki said as Cindy settled into the backseat. "Happy to help you out. Hey. I gotta share this with someone who isn't going to get jealous. Where are we going?"

Cindy gave Al Susie's address, Jackson and Sansome, and leaned her umbrella against the door so the water would drip onto the mat.

"Share what?" Cindy asked, grabbing tissues from her pocket and blowing her nose.

"This is my lucky day," Al told her, stopping at the red light on 2nd. "I won the lottery."

"What?"

"Yeah, five hundred thousand dollars."

"Come onnnn. You're kidding me!"

"Seriously, I just kept playing my lucky numbers, and yahoo! - I won. I'm quitting tomorrow morning when I see the boss. This is Al Wysocki's last fare. I got a bottle of schnapps," he said. "Share a toast with me to my new life?"

"I don't know how that'll mix with Sudafed."

"Hey, just a sip. It'll do your cold good."

"Okay, then. Hit me," Cindy said. "You must be mind-boggled. Five hundred grand! grand! So what are your plans?" So what are your plans?"

Wysocki opened the twist-off cap on the flask of high-octane spirits, poured Cindy a few ounces into a small plastic cup, and handed it to her through the part.i.tion.

"I'm going to buy a sailboat," he said. He clinked the bottle against her plastic cup.

"To your new life," she said.

"Thank you, Ms. Cindy. Yeah, I've been going to the boat shows for about eleven years. I know just the one I want."

Cindy smiled and said "What ... kind of ... boat?"

"I want to get a sailing yacht. Small one, handmade, wooden hull," Al said, looking at Cindy in the rearview mirror as the light turned green. He said, "You okay, back there?"

"No ...," she said slowly, casting her eyes toward Wysocki's mirrored reflection. What was wrong with her? She was having trouble focusing. "I ... feel ..."

Wysocki grinned.

"You should feel great," he said. "You were looking for me, missy. And now you've found me."

Chapter 99.

CLAIRE AND I were at Susie's, all by ourselves, alone. First Yuki had blown us off, and now Cindy was a no-show; no show, no call, no nothing. Getting stood up by both of them had never happened before.

Claire said of Yuki, "Stop worrying yourself. That girl needs to get naked with a man every now and then. You know that, Lindsay. It's good for her."

"I don't have to like her getting naked with Jackson Brady, do I? I mean, come on. Of all the men in all the world, why him?"

Claire laughed. "A lot of girls would be clicking their heels to get naked with Brady."

"It messes with the chain of command."

"Anybody sleeps with anyone you know, it messes with the chain of command."