DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To Demeter94[at]yahoo.de
Cindy laughs at something Anna Romero says, and for a split-second there's this warm cozy feeling I remember before reality strikes again. Hard. Nothing will ever be the same.
I catch Claire's worried glance at me and just shrug. I won't be killing the mood tonight, pardon the pun. This is the second night we took Anna to Suzie's. She's an FBI profiler, in town to assist us on the newest serial killer case, and already she's talking about how she loves San Francisco and always wanted to live here.
I like her. She's tough, ambitious, dealt with some bad nightmares and doesn't take shit from anyone. She'll just never be Jill Bernhardt, and that's it.
"Can I use that?" Cindy asks excitedly. Anna smiles at her. "Sure you can."
It's very hard to tell Cindy Thomas 'no'. So far, Anna's already gotten some important facts about the dynamics around here. Smart woman that she is, she has soon realized that what we're doing is more than the occasional girls' night out, and I can tell that she wants in.
When we first jokingly called ourselves the Women's Murder Club, we had no idea what would come out of it, in terms of friendship and a professional network. We might mave made a mistake, audaciously thinking it was going to last forever. Still, the end came to brutal and sudden. There will be Cindy, Claire and I. There will never be another 'club'.
"Maybe we should leave it at that for tonight," Claire suggests, seeming to sense my mood.
Cindy's lips purse in a disappointed pout, her eyes sparkling from a few too many of those Margheritas. "Not just yet." She has beautiful eyes. It's not the first time I have noticed, and as always, it makes me a little uncomfortable. I rather focus on the fact that she's acting about 12 years old. "Somebody's so ready for bed," I tease her, and she rolls her eyes at me.
"Losing your touch, Linds?"
"I'm not the one who has a conference at 7 tomorrow."
That sobers her up a little, and she sighs. "You're actually right, and I've still got some work to do before that. Let's call it a night, girls."
I see the pleased expression on Romero's face, and I'm tempted to tell her not to get her hopes up too high. Claire has already left and I'm stuck with paying the bill when I see Cindy walking Anna to her car and kiss her on the cheek before the profiler gets in. Cindy flips her cell phone open, probably to call herself a cab. I stand, purse in hand, slack-jawed for some reasons I care to admit, and others, I don't.
I hand a random bill to the waitress and head out after her, intend on getting some answers.
Rosie calls after me, "Wait, Lindsay, it's way too--" But I've already slammed the door shut behind me.
"Hey." Cindy looks vaguely amused at my dramatic exit. Maybe she's not the only one who has had a few drinks too many tonight.
"What was that supposed to be?"
"Anna? By now you should know I like tough chicks."
"But... you..." I sputter, struggling to disregard the fact that she's drunk and her words can't be taken too seriously. "You are dating my partner! You're breaking his heart and I'm the one who has to listen to him whining all day. You are not going to do that to me."
Cindy steps close enough for me to smell her perfume, way too close to those big, curious eyes I... kind of... like. "Is it really his heart we're talking about? If it makes you feel any better, Linds, we broke up." She smiles mischievously. "We were realizing that you were making our relationship way too complicated."
"I do wh--"
I don't get that far though, because she kisses me, lips, tongue, her body pressed against mine making me aware of every curve and God, I've wanted this for such a long time. Discarding all the reasons why I shouldn't, I awkwardly put my arms around her to pull her closer. I'm going to get married, damn it.
The sound of a car pulling up makes me step back hastily. Her cab.
"Think about it," Cindy says, and with a smile, she winks at me.
The truth is, I realize as I walk home in the cool night air, I already have. But that was at a time when the four of us were invincible, when there was nothing we couldn't do. Now... I just don't know, I wish Jill was still with us. I wish I knew what the hell to do.
Return to Women's Murder Club Fiction
Return to Main Page