Meanwhile, back in LA, a lot of things had changed. Mayor Getty had been forced to resign and would be going to trial in six months, along with Syd Silverman. As for Jack Stryker, he’d agreed to testify against the pair of them and was likely to stay on as president of the Sanitation Workers Union.
George Ma did not fare as well. In a last-ditch attempt to flee prosecution, he ordered his thugs to crash the big semi through the border crossing in Tijuana. But having failed to kill Lee, he wasn’t welcome there. So Ma died in a fiery inferno when two RPGs struck the tractor-trailer rig. That was fine with Lee.
The good news was that Chief Corso was back on the job and widely expected to run for mayor. So Acting Chief Yessum had returned to his previous duties, which, according to him, was just fine.
As for the dead, including the sanitation worker, Zumin’s cameraman, Dr. Penn, and the policewoman who had died trying to protect Lee . . . All of them had been memorialized. And Lee was present for every funeral. In a wheelchair at first, then on crutches. There had been a lot of tears—so many it felt like she had none left to give.
That’s over now, Lee told herself. You’ve got to live in the moment, not the past.
“Here you go,” Kane said cheerfully, as he carried a tray up the ladder from the cabin below. “A crab salad with French bread and a bottle of Yakima Riesling. Prepare to be amazed!” Dinner was served on the tiny table in the boat’s cockpit just aft of the wheel. And it was amazing . . . The crab was delicious, the crunchy bread was a delight, and the white wine made a perfect accompaniment.
Better yet were the changes that had come over Kane during the weeks since his imprisonment. The prison pallor was gone, his practice was back on track, and he was happy again. And Lee had discovered that when he was happy, she was happy. She looked him in the eye. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being you.”
Kane smiled and lifted his glass. “To all the years ahead.”
Glasses clinked, a gull circled above, and sunlight glittered on the water. The worst was behind them—and the best had begun.
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