I said, "Ben's mom."

"I know who she is, Cole. Ms. Chenier. How's your little boy?"

"He's well, thank you. He's doing very well."

Lucy gestured with the sausage, and went back to the kitchen.

"I have to get back. I'm dripping."

When Lucy was gone, I lowered my voice.

"Lucy was here when I got back. I didn't know she was in town."

Lucy called from the kitchen.

"Ask her to stay."

I lowered my voice even more.

"Starkey, look, you mind taking a rain check? She's only here for-"

Starkey pushed the box into my hands.

"Fruit tarts. Don't worry about it, Cole. Give me the stuff and I'm gone."

I brought the dessert box into the kitchen, and told Lucy that Starkey was leaving. When I scooped up the articles, Lucy followed me back to the living room. Starkey was still fidgeting by the door. She hadn't come three steps into my house.

Lucy said, "Please, Detective, have dinner with us. At least have a drink."

"I don't drink-I smoke."

Starkey snatched the articles from me, folded them, then tried to slip them into her outer pocket.

"I ran Reinnike's name, Cole. He doesn't have an adult record, so you're shit out of luck with that. I'll let you know if I find something in Juvenile."

Lucy said, "Please-stay for a while. We can visit."

"I gotta get going."

Starkey kept pushing the articles at her pocket, but they wouldn't go in. The paper had folded outside her pocket.

I said, "The paper's bent."

Starkey pushed harder.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

I said, "You're making it worse."

Starkey gave up on the pocket and turned for the door.

Lucy said, "It was good seeing you, Detective."

"Tell the little boy I asked after him."

Lucy smiled nicely, clearly touched.

"I will. Thank you."

Starkey stopped at the door, looked at me as if she was going to say something, but glanced back at Lucy.

"He misses you."

Lucy's jaw tightened, but she made no other response as Starkey went out. I stood in the door until Starkey was in her car, then returned to the kitchen. Lucy was searching through my cupboards. She saw I was back, and smiled brightly.

"Okay, boss, let's get this going. I'm starving to death."

"I'm sorry she said that about me missing you. It's none of her business."

Lucy put two large cans of chopped tomatoes on the counter, and set about opening them as if nothing was wrong. Her eyebrows arched.

"She likes you, Mr. Cole."

"Not the way you mean."

Lucy considered me, then shook her head, and went back to opening the cans.

"You can tell me what she's helping you with while we cook."

I watched her for a moment, wondering what to say and how to say it. Lucy softened me. Maybe it was the warmth of her hair (the best color money can buy) or the curve of her cheek or the determined intelligence in her eyes; maybe it was her scent or the way one front tooth overlapped the other or the faint lines gathered at the corners of her eyes. The whole of her gave me a peace I had not known without her. The knots in my neck and upper back loosened; the strained buzzing in my chest calmed. I did not tell her about Reinnike. I told her I was working a missing-persons case, and let it go at that. A man and his son had disappeared, and I was trying to find them. I didn't lie to her; I just didn't tell her everything. I didn't tell her the important things. Maybe I was tired of the drama, or maybe I didn't want to spoil our evening.

We cooked together as if she had never been away, and I only remembered we were no longer a couple when I wanted to touch her, but couldn't. I wanted everything to be as it had once been, but I respected her choices, and knew her choices weren't easy for her, either. She was doing what she felt she had to do. She was doing what she thought was right for her child. Maybe I could appreciate those choices more than other people, or maybe I was just drunk. In my fantasies, my own mother loved me as much; my own father cared. That Lucy gave up so much for her child left me loving her more and wanting her more and willing to sacrifice anything to nurture her love. What she gave Ben was everything I had wanted for myself; what she was to him was everything I had been denied by my own parents.

We cooked, and ate, and after a while we sat together in the silence of my house, the two of us on the couch, sitting close, her hand in mine. My home felt warm and alive; not just wood and glass and tile, but something more. I knew she would leave soon. She knew it, too. Maybe that's why we were silent.

After a time, Lucy whispered, softly.

"I have to go."

I whispered back.

"I know."

Neither of us moved. I believed she still loved me, else she would not have come to my house. I had asked her once to stay, and thought that if I pressed her again, she might. I could have brushed her ear with my lips, and whispered the gentle words. Maybe some part of her wanted me to convince her, but I knew if I did the difficult choices she had made would be even more difficult to bear. I didn't want to force her. I didn't want to make it harder for her.

She whispered, "I'm going."

She still did not move.

It was up to me.

I kissed the back of her hand, then smiled, trying to tell her I begrudged her nothing.

"I'll walk you out."

If something I hoped was disappointment flickered in her eyes, I ignored it.

She found her wallet, then walked with me out to her car. The sharp night chill hooked at the skin around my eyes and made me blink. That's right-the chill. She kissed my cheek, then slipped behind the wheel.

She said, "I'm glad you came home."

I wanted to say the same, but couldn't.

Her taillights disappeared around the curve. They flickered in the trees, then disappeared again. I stood in the street, watching, hoping for one more glimpse, but after a while I knew she was gone. Ken Wilson told me there was no such thing as a dead end, but I feared he was wrong.

Archangel Love

When the female police officer drove away, Frederick decided to kill Cole and the other woman. It was full-on dark by then, and no neighbor would be able to see Frederick approach the house. Cole might have a gun, but Frederick was even more concerned by the presence of the police. The policewoman-obviously Cole's minion-might have helped murder Payne, and she might even be helping Cole identify Frederick. So ten minutes after she drove away, Frederick slipped the shotgun from its case and readied himself for the killing.

Lights swung around the curve, and a car appeared. It slowed, and Frederick recognized the female police officer. She slowed, but she did not stop, and continued past Cole's house. Frederick didn't like it that she had returned, but didn't know what to make of it.

Frederick decided to wait. Maybe Cole would come outside to put out his trash and Frederick could shoot him from the trees. Maybe Cole and the first woman would go for a walk.

Twenty minutes later, the same female police officer cruised past again. She was patrolling Cole's house!

Frederick grew worried she might become suspicious of his truck. He pictured her calling in his license plate and alerting Cole he was in the area. She might be calling for more of Cole's minions at that very moment!

Do it, Frederick! Do it RIGHT NOW!

Frederick felt trapped between his need to avenge Payne and his fear of the police-

Do it, Frederick!

All he had to do was run to the door, kick it in, and crash into Cole's house. If he took them by surprise, he could shoot down Cole and his wife where they stood.

The police officer drove past again, and in that moment everything changed. Frederick grew convinced she knew he was in the area. That's why she was patrolling Cole's neighborhood-they knew he was here! They were looking for him. Even as he had been stupidly hiding in the trees, Cole's masked minions were probably closing in, surrounding him as silently as smoke; they would surround him, trap him, then hold him down so Cole could use a long thin knife to slit his throat just as he had killed Payne.