California. “Every now and then I like to try to keep something from you,” Rich said.
Cindy laughed and said, “Well, you got me, Inspector. Iam clueless.” And she was still clueless when the car pulled up in front of Grace Cathedral and stopped.
Grace Cathedral was a stupendous Gothic structure with a long history going back to before the earthquake and fire of 1906 and through its reconstruction to the present day.
The cathedral was such a short distance from where she and Richie lived that she’d passed by it many times, always gripped by the awesome sight of the exaggerated arches and spires and the Ghiberti Doors of Paradise, Old Testament–inspired replicas of the gilded originals in Florence.
You saw this cathedral and you had to think of God.
Cindy didn’t even know for sure where she came out on the God question, but a cathedral was meaningful, even for the nonreligious. Not only was it a place of worship, but it embodied the history of the times and the course of generations, the birth through death of entire families.
Cindy was speechless and trembling as she and Rich walked up the steps, through the open doors, and across the inscribed limestone labyrinth that was thirty-five feet across.
As she entered the nave, Cindy’s eyes were drawn upward to the stained-glass windows and then along the murals that led from the back of the church to the altar.
Cindy was dazzled.
She didn’t know what it was, but
something
momentous was about to happen.
Chapter 41
RICH’S HEART POUNDED as he walked with Cindy down the center aisle of Grace Cathedral, awestruck as he always was by the monumental vaulted ceiling and the gold crucifix behind the altar.
Cindy was squeezing the circulation out of his hand, staring up at him, searching his face, speechless for the first time since he’d met her.
She started to ask, “What’s go—?” but her foot turned and her high heels started to go out from under her. Rich had his hand under her elbow and at the small of her back. He caught her before she went down and smiled at her. He felt a laugh fighting to get free.
“Can’t take you anywhere,” he said.
“Clearly not,” she said.
The altar seemed a mile away down the aisle flanked withhundreds of rows of mostly empty pews. Rich felt his heart knocking against his ribs. His mouth was dry. And he never felt more certain of anything in his life.
Images of Cindy blew through his mind: the first time he’d seen her with Lindsay, all big eyes and questions, the way her slightly overlapping front teeth made her smile so cute, an endless source of delight. And the way she looked now, her endearing face framed by all those blond curls.
His Cindy. The woman he knew so very well.
He flashed on the time she’d been a virtual third cop on their team, when he and Lindsay were working the string of homicides in the apartment building where Cindy lived at the time.
He’d learned a lot about her then.
How steadfast she was when facing danger. How hard she pushed herself forward when she was afraid. He admired her so much for those qualities.
But they made him worry about her, too.
And then they were at the altar.
The deacon smiled, very nearly winked, and then disappeared into the shadows—and they were alone.
“Who are we meeting here?” Cindy asked softly.
“I’m hoping he’s your future husband, Cin. What would you think of getting married right here?”
“Is that a proposal, Richie?”
Richie dropped to one knee. He said, “Cindy. If I know anything, it is that you are the love of my life. I want to spend the rest of my years getting to know you and love you even more than I do now. Will you marry me?”
He pulled the little velvet box from his jacket pocket and opened the lid. His mother’s solitaire diamond engagement ring lay inside. She had given it to him, saying, “Someday you’ll give this to a very special woman.”
Cindy stared at the ring, then back at him.
“I guess so,”
Cindy laughed and said, “Well, you got me, Inspector. Iam clueless.” And she was still clueless when the car pulled up in front of Grace Cathedral and stopped.
Grace Cathedral was a stupendous Gothic structure with a long history going back to before the earthquake and fire of 1906 and through its reconstruction to the present day.
The cathedral was such a short distance from where she and Richie lived that she’d passed by it many times, always gripped by the awesome sight of the exaggerated arches and spires and the Ghiberti Doors of Paradise, Old Testament–inspired replicas of the gilded originals in Florence.
You saw this cathedral and you had to think of God.
Cindy didn’t even know for sure where she came out on the God question, but a cathedral was meaningful, even for the nonreligious. Not only was it a place of worship, but it embodied the history of the times and the course of generations, the birth through death of entire families.
Cindy was speechless and trembling as she and Rich walked up the steps, through the open doors, and across the inscribed limestone labyrinth that was thirty-five feet across.
As she entered the nave, Cindy’s eyes were drawn upward to the stained-glass windows and then along the murals that led from the back of the church to the altar.
Cindy was dazzled.
She didn’t know what it was, but
something
momentous was about to happen.
Chapter 41
RICH’S HEART POUNDED as he walked with Cindy down the center aisle of Grace Cathedral, awestruck as he always was by the monumental vaulted ceiling and the gold crucifix behind the altar.
Cindy was squeezing the circulation out of his hand, staring up at him, searching his face, speechless for the first time since he’d met her.
She started to ask, “What’s go—?” but her foot turned and her high heels started to go out from under her. Rich had his hand under her elbow and at the small of her back. He caught her before she went down and smiled at her. He felt a laugh fighting to get free.
“Can’t take you anywhere,” he said.
“Clearly not,” she said.
The altar seemed a mile away down the aisle flanked withhundreds of rows of mostly empty pews. Rich felt his heart knocking against his ribs. His mouth was dry. And he never felt more certain of anything in his life.
Images of Cindy blew through his mind: the first time he’d seen her with Lindsay, all big eyes and questions, the way her slightly overlapping front teeth made her smile so cute, an endless source of delight. And the way she looked now, her endearing face framed by all those blond curls.
His Cindy. The woman he knew so very well.
He flashed on the time she’d been a virtual third cop on their team, when he and Lindsay were working the string of homicides in the apartment building where Cindy lived at the time.
He’d learned a lot about her then.
How steadfast she was when facing danger. How hard she pushed herself forward when she was afraid. He admired her so much for those qualities.
But they made him worry about her, too.
And then they were at the altar.
The deacon smiled, very nearly winked, and then disappeared into the shadows—and they were alone.
“Who are we meeting here?” Cindy asked softly.
“I’m hoping he’s your future husband, Cin. What would you think of getting married right here?”
“Is that a proposal, Richie?”
Richie dropped to one knee. He said, “Cindy. If I know anything, it is that you are the love of my life. I want to spend the rest of my years getting to know you and love you even more than I do now. Will you marry me?”
He pulled the little velvet box from his jacket pocket and opened the lid. His mother’s solitaire diamond engagement ring lay inside. She had given it to him, saying, “Someday you’ll give this to a very special woman.”
Cindy stared at the ring, then back at him.
“I guess so,”
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