Day 67, Chapter 67
Every cop in San Francisco descends on the scene on the bridge – where they’ve been all this time remains a mystery. A photographer makes it through the police perimeter and begins taking pictures of Lindsay.
He started snapping pictures of me wearing a look of horror on my face, the Chronicle plastered to my chest, pink panties and all.
But fortunately, there are people looking out for Lindsay. Hey, this may be the “Women’s Murder Club,” but the dudes are the ones running the show here, am I right JPatt?
A man burst from the back of a police cruiser, a big hunka guy, built like a football player. He crossed the roadway to the man with the camera and shouted, “Give me that!”
The big hunka guy was Joe.
Joe is Lindsay’s boyfriend, just in case you either forgot or don’t give a shit. Joe then grabs the camera guy by the throat, rips the camera out of his hands, and throws it over the railing of the bridge. “Sue me,” he tells him. What a badass!
Then the man I love ran toward me with a look of anguish on his face. He held out his arms, and I fell against him and began to cry. “We got him,” I said.
Oh Lindsay, she’s such a vulnerable, delicate, little hothouse flower. I know she described herself as a “badass bitch” in Chapter 21, but that was all show, man. She really just needs a “big hunka guy” to take care of her. Sigh. Don’t we all?
Go to Day 68.