TITLE: Inamorata (18a/36)
PAIRING: Lindsay/Cindy
DISCLAIMER: Women’s Murder Club does not belong to me. The characters do not belong to me. They are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. I have no problems with that as long as I can borrow them for short bursts and use them in pursuit of my own enjoyment. I am not trying to infringe. Though, I don’t know why anyone has a problem with fan fic. After all, it really is a compliment. If anyone wants to write fan fiction about my book, feel free.

**Due to this damn meeting, I will likely be unable to do anything enjoyable today, so I’m posting this little snippet of the next chapter, as it’s all that I have done. I was thinking of posting it this way anyhows. This just made it absolutely necessary.**

What excuse might she have invented if Jacobi hadn’t hobbled into the room when he did with a dangerous determination and a bullet hole hidden beneath the bandages on his head?

It didn’t matter, she guessed, because he did, providing Lindsay with the ideal method to elude Tom. When she told him privately in his office that she was transporting Jacobi back to the hospital, he was only too happy to see them go. And she would have felt guilty about the lie, if she weren’t delivering it in the best interest of everyone involved. Or was it just her own best interest?

When she’d asked Jacobi, Claire and Jill to wait in a conference room, though it wasn’t vocalized, there was a lie in that too. Her mannerisms implied that she was going to make it right with Tom, that she was going to calm him down. She hadn’t. She just told him what he needed to be told to pacify him. By the time he realized he’d been misled, it would be too late for him to do anything about it.

Lindsay stepped inside the conference room, leaving the door as it was, ajar and exposed to all nearby listeners.

“You’re going back to the hospital,” she said to Jacobi.

“That isn’t your goddamn choice,” Jacobi loudly responded, his voice filling up the space and leaking out into the more public sphere beyond. Several people’s heads turned and there was doubtful a person in the vicinity who didn’t hear the reaction.

Lindsay reached back and pushed the door closed behind her, and they were left in confidence.

“Now that your objection has been broadcast,” she said quietly. “Let me tell you what we need to do.”