“Richie, do you love her? Or don’t you? You have to figure that one out.” That’s safe, sweet, and her mother won’t send out invitations.” I said, “Rich, in my humble opinion, you and Tina are at flowers and dinner. Or does the ring in earring send too much of a message?”
“So I was thinking I’d get her a pair of earrings. Then my partner and I started up the incline.
I braked on the shoulder, turned on the flashers, grabbed my Windbreaker, and locked up. We drove slowly past the nifty old houses on Pilots’ Row and then hit a wall of traffic. I kept my eyes on the road, staying on Lincoln, a two-laner flanked by historic buildings on the left and a parking lot on the right for visitors to the bridge. To tell the truth, I was hoping for that, too. She hadn’t given up hope that she and Richie could get back together. And Cindy was still suffering from their breakup six months ago. But, his ex-girlfriend Cindy is my home girl. “So what do I get her that means ‘I like you a lot so far’?” We’ve been together for two months,” he said. He phoned Claire and said we were about eight minutes out, then picked up where he left off, asking my advice on his romantic dilemma. I followed Lincoln through the Presidio and past the Crissy Field Overlook toward the bridge as Conklin called Brady and told him we were answering Claire’s call. He said, “Claire wants us to look at a traffic fatality?” My partner is smart, steady, a glass-full type of guy, and on this particular day, he was pretty happy with himself. I repeated to Rich what Claire had said and turned the car around.
She gave me her location, and I told her we’d be there as soon as weather and traffic permitted. If you and Richie are in the neighborhood, I could use another opinion.” “I’ve got two DBs in a single-car smash-up and I don’t know what the hell I’m looking at. “Lindsay,” Claire shouted over the braying of car horns. I was behind the wheel of the squad car, and Inspector Rich Conklin, my partner of many years, was in the seat beside me when Claire called my cell phone.Ĭlaire Washburn is my closest friend, and also San Francisco’s Chief Medical Examiner. There had been no sign of sun so far, just a thick fog that had put the blocks to traffic around the Golden Gate.
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