Unlucky 13(6)

“We’re wearing bridesmaids’ dresses?” I asked, totally horrified.

“Of course. Pink ones. Off the shoulder. Big skirt.”

Well, Cindy and Claire would look good in pink. I would look like a half-baked ham.

“Don’t worry, Linds,” Yuki said. “You can use it after the wedding. It’s a nice little cocktail dress.”

“And I was just sitting here wishing I had an off-the-shoulder pink cocktail dress,” I said, laughing in order to keep the terror out of my voice. “Can I get a tiara to go with that?”

Yuki laughed and said, “I’m kidding about the dresses, girls. I’m not having any maids of honor, none of that. Having a judge. Having vows. Having food. Having dancing. Sound okay?”

“Brilliant,” Claire said. “We’re throwing your engagement party. For four. Tonight.”

Right after we said good-bye to Yuki, I left Claire’s office, jogged through the breezeway, and entered the back door to the lobby of the Hall of Justice, with its super-size ceilings and garnet-colored marble walls. I took the stairs to Homicide and after passing through the squad’s outer office went through the little swinging gate and into the bullpen.

I said, “Yo,” to our PA, Brenda, and then made my way around the desks in the bullpen. I found Brady in his hundred-square-foot glass cubicle at the far end.

He looked just like always—delts and biceps pulling the fabric of his blue shirt, white-blond hair pulled back and banded in a short pony, head bent over his computer.

I’d had a few issues with Brady since he’d taken over my old job as squad boss. From the first, I bucked at Brady’s impersonal management style. But lately, I hate to admit, I’ve become a fan. He’s impartial. He’s decisive. And he has a track record as a really good cop.

I knocked on Brady’s glass door. He said, “Come in, Boxer.”

I did and kept coming, all four steps to his desk. Then I grabbed his shoulders and kissed him.

“Congrats, boss.”

The look on Brady’s face was priceless.

“Thanks.”

I was grinning my face off as I crossed the squad room to my desk and Conklin’s. My partner looked up from his computer and said to me, “I saw you kissing up to the boss.”

“He and Yuki are getting married. Swear to God. And we’ve got a hot lead. So, let’s get to work.”





CHAPTER 5


I SWUNG DOWN into my desk chair and said to my partner, “The explosive material in the belly bomb is a magnesium compound and the victims ingested it.”

“They ate it? And it exploded? That’s not possible.”

“I’m quoting Claire, who got that from the FBI lab. They found a trace of the compound in the stomach contents. Seems that stomach acid activates the explosion.”

“Damn,” Conklin said, rocking back in his chair. “Do the Feds have any theories as to who put this stuff into the food?”

“Not yet. I’m way open to anything you come up with.”

I pulled up the scene pictures again, this time focusing on the hamburger bag and waxed-paper wrappers among the pile of litter on the floor. The hamburger bag had come from Chuck’s Prime, a chain of fast-food restaurants that had made a name for themselves for hamburgers of superior grass-fed, made-in-America beef.

I turned my computer so Conklin could see the photo and said, “Look here. I think Trimble and Katz had a couple of Chuckburgers—and sometime not long after that, they blew up.”

Conklin said, “There’s a Chuck’s in Hayes Valley, about fifteen minutes south of the bridge.”

We signed out a squad car and Conklin drove. I listened to the car radio with half an ear while Conklin said, “I should tell you, Linds. I eat at Chuck’s twice a week. Maybe more.”

“I’ve had a Chuck’s bacon burger a few times and have to say, they’re pretty tasty.”

“Yeah,” Conklin said. “Might be time for a change.”

Twenty minutes later, we parked at the corner of Hayes and Octavia near the park known as Patricia’s Green and in the heart of the Hayes Valley commercial district, a strip with trendy shops, boutiques, restaurants, and cafés.

In the middle of the block was a big parking lot, and beside the lot, like a sunny seaside trattoria, was Chuck’s.

The outside tables were shaded by market umbrellas, and inside, a counter wrapped around two walls, and square wooden tabletops formed neat lines. Few people were eating burgers at this time of morning, but the serving folks were ready for the lunch crowd, smartly dressed as they were in aqua cowboy shirts with pearl buttons and tight white jeans.