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Bryan and the bomb sniffers in their heavy suits and helmets streamed out of the building and bolted across the street to safety.
“How does he know?” Tyler asked, her face scrunched up in anxiety and confusion.
She and Dani ducked behind one of the patrol cars. Two other officers joined them just as a deafening explosion rang out. Dani dropped to a prone position without a second thought as all of the second-floor windows blew out, raining glass over the strip of lawn in front of the building. Shards of glass pinged against the other side of the car. Then, except for the ringing in Dani’s ears, there was silence. They held their positions for a couple of minutes more.
“Are you okay?” Dani asked Tyler, who lay beside her on the grass.
Tyler nodded.
Dani peered over the hood of the car. Black smoke billowed out of the pane-less windows, and within seconds flames were visible licking at the edges of the window frames on the second floor. The fire trucks pulled into position and the firefighters went into action pouring water through the upstairs windows, dousing the flames and sending up even more black smoke.
“Looks like he had it right,” Tyler said, back on her feet. She brushed down her uniform. “Right down to the minute.”
“Yeah,” Dani agreed. “Too bad he didn’t have that all figured out in time to stop it.”
Chapter Two
Gemma watched as Dani ran along the surf with Tucker at her heels, her long, tanned legs carrying her easily along the shore of Aquatic Park. Tucker barked with excitement, hopping around her feet, looking comical. His snout was a little longer and his ears more floppy than a purebred Boston Terrier, but his coloring was classic black and white. Dani thought he was part beagle. Gemma had no guess, as she knew very little about dog breeds. Nor did she care. Whatever he was, he was cute, sweet and happy, and he was their baby.
She leaned back in her seat at the foot of the bleachers, enjoying the autumn sunshine on her face. The bay was calm today and dotted with white sails beneath an uncompromising blue sky. Off to the west, just beginning to embrace the orange steel girders of the Golden Gate Bridge, the fog bank inched toward them.
Predictably, Tucker dashed into the surf, anxious to play fetch. Dani obliged him by pitching a rubber bone over his head. It bobbed on the water for two seconds before he nabbed it in his mouth and swam back, dropping it at Dani’s feet. She tossed it out again, then wiped her hand on her sweatshirt and laughed when Tucker’s overanxious lunge at the toy popped it out of the water and on top of his head. Dani glanced toward the bleachers to see if Gemma had been watching. She waved to let her know she was.
She turned her attention to the fishermen on the pier and the sailboats further out in the bay, acknowledging that she felt blissfully happy. How else could she possibly feel? She was a lucky woman, living in this beautiful city with the love of her life and working in a rewarding career. She thought of her mother, whose mind was gradually turning to mush. There was that, she thought, the lone shadow over her bliss. But she wasn’t the only one facing an eldercare crisis. At twenty-six, though, she was one of the younger ones. Gemma had been born long after her parents had given up trying to have children. They were told it was impossible. And then suddenly at the age of fifty-three, her mother had gotten pregnant. A miracle, they had called their little girl. It had not always been ideal having parents old enough to be grandparents, but there were advantages. They were stable, loving and patient people. But her father had died when she was eighteen and her mother was now wasting away in her last days of life. She dreaded the day that her mother would leave the world completely. It would be so lonely without her.
Thank God for Dani, she thought, searching the beach for her tousled brown hair. There she was, her sandaled feet in the lapping surf, clapping and calling to Tucker as he swam in with the toy on a more or less direct course toward her. Gemma shook away thoughts of her mother. She leapt off the bench and took off running to join her family. Today was a lovely October Saturday and they had nothing to do but love life. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but those pesky weekend chores would wait a few more hours.
Dani’s naturally wavy hair was windblown and damp, sticking to her cheek. She needed a haircut. She didn’t like getting haircuts, so she put it off until her bangs were hanging into her eyes and she couldn’t stand it anymore. Gemma liked the messy look. It went well with Dani’s playful personality and her many snarky expressions.
Gemma fished her phone out and snapped a couple of photos of Dani and Tucker playing on the sand, the towers of the Golden Gate Bridge rising out of a damp blanket of fog behind them. What an irresistible scene, she thought, admiring her composition.
“We should probably start back,” she said, coming up beside Dani as she wrestled the bone from Tucker’s mouth.
Dani nodded and smiled, then threw the bone into the bay one last time before the two of them started walking. Tucker was soon beside them, spraying them with a whirlwind of cold water drops as he shook himself off. Dani slipped her hand into Gemma’s and they walked along the curving shoreline past the Maritime Museum and on to the base of the steep hill up to Fort Mason.
Looking up the hill, Dani grinned. “Ready to run?”
Gemma sighed.
“Sure you are,” laughed Dani. “A month ago you wouldn’t have been able to walk it without stopping to catch your breath.”
It was true. She’d gotten in much better shape fast since the two of them started running together in preparation for the Bay Run for the Homeless, which was now only three weeks away. Gemma had never run a half-marathon, but each day she felt more confident that finishing was possible. After a month of training with Dani, she felt stronger than she ever had.
They started jogging up the hill at a moderate pace. Dani had been in good shape ever since Gemma had known her, but even she was more muscular now, better toned and, Gemma liked to think, healthier all around due to the not-always-welcome dietary changes Gemma had imposed on her. Gemma knew that Dani cheated on her diet, snagging chips and doughnuts during the workday, but Gemma had her for breakfast and dinner so it all evened out okay.
As they reached the top of the hill, the bridge came into view again, even less of it visible through the mist. In the distance, a foghorn sounded. They jogged through the park and over to the street, where they stopped at the traffic light, both of them breathing heavily.
“What do you want to do for dinner?” Dani asked.
Gemma shrugged. “I don’t feel much like cooking. Why don’t we stop at the deli and pick up something.”
“Okay.”
They dropped down onto Beach Street in front of the Marina Safeway where Dani attached the lead to Tucker’s collar. Then they walked away from the bay toward home.
“You seem preoccupied with something today,” Gemma said.
“Sorry. It’s this case.”
“The bombing?”
Dani jerked her chin up in affirmation. “We’ve got no leads. Nobody saw anything. The bomb was something anybody could put together from their local hardware store. It was in a cupboard on the second floor. Security at this place was totally lax and the cameras had been switched off at the main electrical panel, so there’s no video. They said they didn’t worry much about security because mostly what they’ve got in there are plants and seeds.”
“Plants and seeds?”
“Yeah, they do something with GMO crops. So this guy, Darius, apparently comes in in the middle of the night, goes through a vent cover in the basement that’s not wired, shuts off the cameras, then walks upstairs and puts his package in a cupboard. A five-year-old could have done it.”
Tucker planted himself on a strip of grass alongside the sidewalk. He was worn out. Dani scooped him up and carried him in one arm against her chest, his wet fur dampening her sweatshirt. “Agent Bryan seems to think Darius is going to strike again if we can’t find him. But we don’t know a thing about him except his name, Leo Darius. I guess I should say his pseudonym. We don’t know where he’s from or where he lives or who his people are. He doesn’t cast a shadow. Bryan knows more, but he isn’t sharing. This isn’t the way I like to do things.”
“Of course not. You want to be in charge.” Gemma turned and grinned at Dani. “Everywhere. Always.”
Dani laughed. “True.” She squeezed Gemma’s hand. “So we’re just blindly following Agent Bryan, trusting him. There’s just something strange about that guy.”
“How do you mean?”
Dani shook her head. “I don’t know. But that’s what’s bothering me. Something’s fishy, but I can’t figure out what.”
“Be careful.”
“Always.”
Their apartment was the ground floor of a two-story Victorian. The upstairs was rented out to another couple. Fortunately, the single-car garage belonged to them. Unfortunately, it was being used as storage instead of parking. It was full of stuff Dani had brought with her when she moved in and some of Gemma’s mom’s furniture that had been moved out of the house. Gemma knew her mother was never coming back, that she could get rid of her things, but she wasn’t ready to do it yet. It would seem too much like declaring her mother already gone.
They were lucky to have a place in the city, and the quirks of this old house didn’t bother Gemma much. So many of their friends commuted in from the East Bay, South Bay or even further away. Gemma’s mother had lived here ever since her father had passed away, moving to San Francisco to be near her daughter. She kept saying she would come home when she was better, and Gemma let her think so. There was no reason not to.
She pushed open the door to the dim interior and switched on the entryway light, illuminating hardwood floors and the living room furniture, most of it her mother’s. On the left side of the hall were the two bedrooms and one bathroom. On the right was the living room with a separate tiny room they used for a desk. At the end of the hall, at the back of the house, was the kitchen, arranged like so many of these narrow apartments carved out of Victorians.
“I forgot to tell you,” Gemma said, closing the door behind them. “Your sister called earlier. She wants you to go with her to the bridal shop Monday afternoon if you can take the time off.”
Dani wrinkled her nose. “Bridal shop? Those places give me the creeps. Why doesn’t Mom go with her?”
“I didn’t ask. You should do it.”
“I guess so,” Dani said reluctantly. “I should tell her to put you in the ceremony so you have to wear one of those god-awful bridesmaid dresses.” Dani laughed. “I’d like to see that.”
“That’s not going to happen,” said Gemma flatly. “The last time I wore a dress was to my senior prom.” Gemma dropped her tote bag into a living room chair. “I’d say on the butch-femme scale, we’re both just a little on the flat-soled shoes side of center. Well, maybe you’re a little farther toward the toolbelt set, my love.”
Dani put Tucker on the floor and wrapped her arms around Gemma’s waist. “Gem, baby, all I know is that you’re all woman and that’s the way I like it.”
They kissed long and slow until Dani released her, a dreamy smile on her face.
“Nice,” Gemma said quietly. “Maybe we should skip dinner and go right to dessert.” She nuzzled Dani’s neck, then kissed her just above the collar of her sweatshirt, slipping her hands under it to feel the warm skin of Dani’s back.
Dani’s mouth sought hers and they kissed again until Gemma felt something wet land on her foot. She looked down to see Tucker sitting on her sandal. “You know your dog has to have a bath, right?”
“My dog? He’s always my dog whenever he’s in trouble.” Dani picked him up and touched noses with him. “She loves you just as much as I do, Tuck Tuck.”
“Maybe now,” Gemma admitted, “but if you hadn’t begged on your knees two years ago, he’d probably belong to Miko right now.” Gemma shook her head, remembering how Dani had pleaded to keep the stray.
Dani held Tucker in front of her face and baby talked to him. “Miko never had a chance with you, did she, boy? You were mine the minute I saw you.”
An image of Dani holding a baby flashed through Gemma’s mind. She needed to tell her what she’d been thinking, that it was time to start a family. They’d talked about it vaguely in the past, so she knew Dani wanted kids at some point. Gemma hadn’t been ready in the beginning, not until she could be absolutely certain that she and Dani were strong enough together, financially secure with a clear path to the future. She was ready now. With Dani’s sister’s surprise announcement that she would be a pregnant bride, Dani might be ready too. Her family was about to produce a new generation. She wouldn’t want to be left out of that.
“Poor Miko.” Dani flashed a toothy smile at Gemma and turned Tucker to face her, dark soulful eyes, moist black nose, white stripe down the center of his face. “Aren’t you glad she didn’t get him?”
Gemma nodded. “I’m glad because if she had, she would have named him Oreo. She told me so.”
“Stupid, stupid Miko,” Dani sputtered into Tucker’s face. “You’d hate being named Oreo, wouldn’t you, boy?”
“I’ll go pick up dinner while you clean him up. How about something light like a Greek salad? I can get a couple pieces of baklava for dessert.”
“Perfect.”
Gemma smiled to herself, watching Dani rub noses with Tucker. As long as she loved their child as much as she loved that dog, they’d all be just fine.
Chapter Three
Perkins sucked in his coffee, making that obscene noise that set Dani’s teeth on edge. Nobody drank coffee noisier than this dude! He put the mug down and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his palm over his ample belly. He was like a thirty-year-old Oscar Madison. Come to think of it, he sort of looked like a young Walter Matthau—oversized nose, dark, wavy hair, thick black eyebrows and heavy in the jowls. A few more years, she realized, and she’d be sitting across the table from Max Goldman from Grumpy Old Men.
Dani cut her last hunk of steak into two pieces and ate one with a forkful of yolky hash browns. This diner was one of their regular spots, and the steak and eggs was one of Dani’s regular orders. Not that she hadn’t had breakfast. She’d had a bowl of high-fiber cereal with blueberries and almonds this morning with Gemma. But ever since then, she’d been thinking about ordering her favorite breakfast for lunch.
“You remember that fund-raising barbecue we had this summer?” Perkins asked.
“Sure.” Dani mopped up the egg yolk in her plate with a half piece of toast.
“Your Gemma was working the drinks station with me.”
“Yeah, I know. You mentioned it before.”
“Well, I don’t know if I mentioned before that she told me you two were vegetarians.” He sucked his teeth before taking a swallow of coffee, then looked over the rim of his mug with a twinkle in his eyes. “That was before I got assigned to this beat, before I got to know you so well. Now I’m thinking back to that barbecue, wondering, hell, how did this woman pass on the tri-tip?”
Dani chuckled. “It was painful.” She waved her fork at him. “You don’t tell mine about this and I won’t tell yours about the ice cream bars.” She stabbed the last piece of steak and slipped it into her mouth. She felt a little guilty for the steak, but not enough to give it up. She was okay with the bulgur wheat and lentil salads for dinner, but for lunch she was on her own. There had been nothing in their wedding vows about promising not to eat meat. Gemma made healthy taste great, and Dani had to admit that under her care her body had become leaner and meaner, but she had never gotten over her craving for meat. Some people are just meant to be carnivores. She put her fork down and took a long drink from her coffee mug, making no noise. Gemma thinks I’m a slob, she thought. She should have to live with Perkins for a week.
Their waitress, Sandra, swung by with the bill. “Here’s your apple, Dani,” she said, placing a Red Delicious in front of her. “More coffee?”
Dani glanced at the wall clock, then shook her head. It was edging past eleven, the end of their lunch hour.
“That’s it for me too, Sandy Dee,” Perkins said with a grin. Sandra’s last name was McCorkle. Perkins just liked the sound of his own invented name, and Dani was pretty sure he didn’t realize it was because there actually was a famous Sandra Dee. Despite his resemblance to Walter Matthau, he was too young to know who she was, but names like that have a way of worming their way into your subconscious. Sandra McCorkle, on the other hand, was old enough to be well acquainted with Sandra Dee, to whom she bore no resemblance. She gave the same little huff at Perkins that she always did, tactfully placing the bill equidistant between the two of them in the center of the table.
They paid the tab, put on their caps and walked to the corner where Old Gustav sat on a milk crate beside his pony and cart reading a newspaper through round-rimmed glasses. A sign on the sidewalk read, “Buggy rides $20.” Gustav looked very Old World in dark pants, a white shirt, red suspenders and a felt hat with a feather in it. He had been at this corner for as long as Dani could remember with this same cart and same pony, Comet by name, which must have been some kind of inside joke, considering how this pony plodded along her route, especially when there were passengers in the cart. Gus and Comet were a fixture in Golden Gate Park. You could always find them right here on this corner. If not, they were off giving rides to customers.
“Hey, Gus,” Dani said.
The old man raised his head and blinked at them, pulling on one end of his thick white mustache. Recognizing her, he smiled broadly and stood up. “Good morning, Dani. And you too, Officer Perkins.”
“How’s our little Comet today?” she said, patting the pony’s forehead. Comet’s eyes focused on the apple, and half of it was soon in her mouth. “You like that, girl, don’t you?”
“Oh, she does!” Gus assured them. “She’s always happy to see you, Dani.”
Comet snorted and jerked her head up and down. Dani held out the rest of the apple on her open palm. A few more munches and it was gone. They said good-bye to Gus and returned to the patrol car.
