THINGS AT THEoffice were somewhat quiet, and I had an itch to cut out early. It wasn’t long after lunchtime.
Julie was in day camp for at least another hour, and I spontaneously decided to go bust her out early. I thought it would be fun to take her down to the Aquarium of the Bay. She loved that place. That meant I loved it too.
I didn’t bother telling my lieutenant, Jackson Brady, that I was heading out. He’d told me several times his job was to keep things running smoothly, not babysit veteran detectives—a great attitude that unfortunately was not shared by all supervisors.
As I was hurrying along, I somehow heard my name being called over the din of conversations and people rushing through the bullpen. I saw Cindy Thomas coming toward me from the unit’s entrance. We exchanged hellos. I immediately picked up my former pace and made Cindy walk just as quickly, back toward the reception area.
Cindy said, “Where are you sprinting to? A lead on your homicide?”
“I’m going to pick Julie up early and take her to the aquarium at Pier 39.”
“Ohh, that does sound like fun. Can I join?”
“Sure, if you want.” I didn’t feel like Cindy would be imposing on my time with my daughter. I was happy someone loved her enough to come with us. That’s a special kind of friendship. “What brings you down to the Hall? Were you here to see Richie?”
“Actually, I was looking for you. It’s about the guy at the party last night. Eric Snaff.”
“I meant to call you and tell you not to meet him unless I’m with you.”
“Too late. I just left him at the Shake Shack.”
I frowned at Cindy. As usual, she let it roll right off her back.
Cindy said, “He has a compelling story. I was hoping I might impose on you to verify a few things through your contacts.”
“Can it wait till Monday?”
“Of course. I won’t even have all my information together until at least Monday.”
Ten minutes later, Cindy was in my car. She really did want to go with me to pick up Julie.
Twenty minutes later, I was poking my head in the door of Julie’s classroom.
“I’m here for Julie Ann Molinari,” I told the teacher.
My daughter popped right up, ran to me, and jumped into my arms. I squeezed her. “How’s my Julie-bug?”
“Great! I made you and Daddy a picture.” She turned and looked at her young teacher, who handed me a piece of construction paper with a big smile.
I studied the paper and said, “That’s beautiful.” I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking at. But the colors really were nice.
“It’s a puppy. I’m not sure what his name is yet. But it’s a cute puppy with big eyes.”
As soon as we got out to the car, Julie ran and greeted Cindy as well. She climbed into her booster seat and started buckling herself into the harness just as my phone rang. It was a slow, short tune everyone associated with the Russian Gulag. I used it for any call coming to me through the San Francisco police network.
I dreaded picking it up. All I said was “Lindsay Boxer.”
It was a dispatcher whose drab voice I didn’t recognize. “A body has been found at Golden Gate Park.”
“I’m not the homicide inspector on duty.”
“I was told to call you directly.”
“Who told you to call me?”
“Claire Washburn from the medical examiner’s office. She’s at the scene.”
I turned and looked at Julie’s smiling face. Something inside me died just a little bit. I said into the phone, “I’ll be there shortly.”
