The 9th Judgment

It was stupid, but I just wanted to bawl in Joe's arms and tell him he couldn't go, and if he did, I'd keep crying until he came back.

"Do what you have to do," I said.

Chapter 115

I WAS DRESSED by the time Yuki and Miles arrived. Miles, that too-cute-for-words bartender, presented me with a bottle of wine, telling me about its special qualities. I barely heard him, but I'm pretty sure I thanked him. Yuki asked where Joe was, and I told her with my voice catching, my eyes watering up, that he had rushed off to Washington.

I turned away so she wouldn't have to endure my disgraceful wet-eyed funk. So she followed me into the kitchen and helped me plate the olives and cheese. "What's going on, Lindsay?" she asked me.

"Don't look at me. It's just that everything finally got to me. You know. Everything."

"When's Joe coming back?"

I shrugged and the doorbell rang, Martha yelping happily when I opened it to Edmund and Claire. Claire surrounded me in a big hug and smothered me with flowers.

Edmund said, "Lindsay, you look gorgeous in red. Gorgeous in any way, but red's definitely your color."

Edmund joined Miles in front of the TV, the two of them having a football bonding moment as Claire went into the kitchen and poked around for a vase.

When Cindy and Rich showed up, I realized it was the first time I'd seen them together on a date. And maybe it was the first time they'd really been out in the world publicly. That their debut was happening at my home was pretty cool. I told them that Joe was MIA and why.

Rich said, "You want me to pick out some music, Linds?"

"Thanks. That would be great."

Richie was digging through the CDs and I was pulling the ham out of the oven when the phones rang, each of them, one in all four rooms ringing together.

"Are you getting the phone?" Claire asked me.

"Phones are no friends of mine."

"Could be Jacobi."

"He'd call me on my cell."

My mobile rang from my handbag. I reached in and looked at the caller ID. I didn't recognize the number. Maybe, I thought, it was coming from Jacobi's mystery date's phone.

"Warren, are you lost?"

"Sergeant Boxer?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"This is Commander John Jordan. I'm afraid there's been an incident. I wanted to reach you before you heard it on the news."

My mind skittered like a needle across an old-fashioned vinyl record. This couldn't be about that hostage crisis in Washington. Joe couldn't have gotten there-not yet. His plane had just lifted off. I looked at the television set through the wall opening to the living room.

Talking heads had replaced the football game, and I read the breaking-news banner: CHARTER JET DOWNED IN CALIFORNIA.

Chopper footage came on, showing a green valley blemished by airplane wreckage and a blooming column of black smoke.

The commander was speaking to me, but I didn't really hear his words. I already got it. Joe's plane had gone down. They didn't know what had happened, why it had blown up or simply crashed.

The lights faded to black, and I went down.

Chapter 116

I SWAM UP out of the darkness, hearing Claire talking to Cindy, feeling something cold on my forehead, Martha's paws on my chest. My eyelids flew open. I was looking up at the ceiling of my bedroom.

Where was Joe?

Claire said, "I'm here, baby. We're all here."

"Joe? Is Joe...?" I wailed. "Oh no. Oh God no."

Claire looked at me helplessly, tears rolling down her face. Cindy grabbed my hand and Yuki cried, paced, and cried some more.

I was overwhelmed with a horrible emptiness, a pain so deep, so shocking, I wanted to die. I rolled onto my side so I couldn't see anyone and covered my head with a pillow. Sobs poured out of me.

"I'm right here, sugar," Claire said.

"Tell everyone to go home. Please," I said.

She didn't answer me. The door closed, and I took Joe's pillow in my arms and rocked myself into a sleep that was more falling down a bottomless hole than floating in a dream.

I woke up not knowing why I was drowning in dread.

"What time is it?" I asked into the pillow.

"It's almost five," Claire said.

"In the afternoon?"

"Yes."

"I've only been out for an hour?"

"I'm going to get you something to put you out," she said. "I called in a prescription."

I pulled the blanket over my head.

I came up from the deep again, this time into a roar of voices, cheers- What the hell? Was I still dreaming? The bedroom door opened, and lights blazed. Joe was standing over me.

I screamed his name.

Was it really him? Was it? Or had I gone insane?

Joe opened his arms, and I threw myself against him, feeling the wool of his jacket scrape my cheek, hearing his voice saying my name.

I pulled away and looked again to be sure, and now the room was filling with my friends, standing-room only.

"I'm okay, I'm okay, sweetheart. I'm here."

I was crying again, and I was asking Joe to tell me what had happened.

"I was at the airport," Joe said. "Ours-SFO-when I got a call from my contacts in Washington saying that the passengers on that plane had overpowered Waleed. It was all over. I could go back home.