3rd Degree by James Patterson, Andrew Gross

probably won't help if I tell you about my day.”
    “Well, I know how it began,” Jill said. Icicles.
    Deserved.
    “Look, I can't blame you for being mad.” I stepped in, placing my hands on the top of a high-backed chair.
    “You could say I was a little mad,” Jill said, “earlier in the day.”
    “And now?”
    “Now...I guess you could call it very fucking mad, Lindsay.”
    There wasn't a hint of humor in her face. When you needed someone to seriously bust some balls - to use the wrong metaphor - Jill was your gal.
    “You're torturing me,” I said, and sat in the chair. “I real-ize what I did was way out of bounds.”
    Jill laughed derisively. “I would say the part about send-ing a hit man after my husband seemed a bit wide of the lines - even for you, Lindsay.”
    “It wasn't a hit man,” I corrected her. “It was a knee-cracker. But who's being technical. What can I say? You're married to a total SOB.” I pulled the chair up to the side of her desk. “Look, Jill, I know it was wrong. I didn't go there to threaten him. I went for you. But the guy was such a tight -assed creep.”
    “Maybe what the guy didn't appreciate was our business being laid out like a laundry list in his face. What I told you was in confidence, Lindsay.”
    “You're right.” I swallowed. “I'm sorry.”
    Gradually, the little lines of anger in her brow began to soften. She pushed back her chair from the desk and rolled it to face me, almost knee to knee.
    “Look, Lindsay, I'm a big girl. Let me fight my own battles. You're my friend in this case, not the police.”
    “So everybody's telling me.”
    “Then hear it, honey, because I need you to be my friend. Not the 101st Airborne.” She took my hands and squeezed them. “Usually a friend hears another out, invites her to lunch, maybe sets her up with a cute coworker.... Barging into her husband's office and threatening to have his knees capped... that sort of stuff... we call them enemies, Lindsay.”
    I laughed. For the first time I saw a glimmer of a smile crack through Jill's ice. A glimmer.
    “Okay, so as a friend, how are you and the SOB since he punched you?” I sniffed back a false smile.
    Jill laughed, shrugged. “I guess we're okay.... We talked about counseling.”
    “The only counseling Steve needs is from a lawyer, during an arraignment.”
    “Be my friend, Lindsay, remember.... Anyway, there are more important matters to discuss. What's going on in this city?”
    I told her about the message Cindy had received that morning, and how it ratcheted up the case. “You ever hear of an anti-terrorism guy named Joe Molinari?”
    Jill thought. “I remember a Joe Molinari who was a prose-cutor back in New York. Top-notch investigator. Worked on the World Trade Center bombing. Not hard to look at, either. I think he went down to Washington in some capacity.”
    “ `Some capacity' means the Department of Homeland Security and my new point man on the case.”
    “You could do worse,” Jill said. “Did I mention he wasn't hard to look at?”
    “Cut it out.” I blushed.
    Jill cocked her head. “Normally you don't go for the federal types.”
    “ 'Cause most of them are just career guys looking to score a promotion on our sources and leads. But this Molinari seems like the real deal. Maybe you could do some ground-work for me....”
    “You mean like what kind of litigator he is?” Jill smiled, cat-eyed. “Or whether he's married? I think Lindsay's a little taken with the special agent.”
    “Deputy director.” I wrinkled my nose.
    “Oh...the man's done well.” Jill nodded approvingly. “I did say he was handsome, didn't I?” She grinned again. We both laughed.
    After a while, I took Jill's hand. “I'm sorry I did what I did, Jill. It would kill me if I added to what you're going through. I can't promise to stay out, at least not completely. You're our friend, Jill, and we're worried sick for you. But I'll give you my word...I won't put a hit out on