by Meg Gardiner
She turned toward the cliff and threw it over the fence, a high arcing fastball that sailed into the blue and down toward the rocks.
"Jesus Christ. You bitch—"
He vaulted over the fence, ran to the drop-off, and began scrambling down the cliffside.
Jo called after him. "I'll see you in court, Mr. Harding."
She saw his manicured hands and shining Rolex claw at the dirt as he bumbled his way down. She and Gabe watched until he disappeared. They turned and walked away.
A hundred yards down the path, she said, "May I borrow your phone?"
He handed it to her. She called Amy Tang, who was down the street having coffee at the Seal Rock Inn.
"All yours," Jo said.
She handed the phone back to Gabe. "What were you recording on your iPod, the Beatitudes? Blessed are the peacemakers?"
"John Wayne. Grab 'em by the balls, and their hearts and minds will follow."
They walked farther. He said, "When do you think he'll figure out you bought that baseball at Manny's Sporting Goods this morning and signed it yourself?"
They kept walking.
"You're smiling," he said.
She was. She felt the sun on her face, the breeze caressing her hair, the day spreading before her. A weight was gone from her shoulders.
"Tell me?" Gabe said.
She heard the roar of the sea behind her.
"Is it a secret?" Gabe said.
"Hell, no."
She knew the Marin headlands would always be behind her, reminding her where Daniel lay. She didn't know what lay ahead, but she could risk that.
"When am I going to find out?" he said.
She pulled him to a stop. She turned him to face her and put her hands on either side of his face. She felt his arms curve around her back and draw her close to him. She gave him a smile, and stood on tiptoe.
"Now," she said.
