“I am,” she stated, “and you’re doing a bang-up job of helping me.” She noted another container off to the side and nodded toward it. “What’s in that?” she asked curiously.
He grinned and pointed to another box she had missed off to the side. “Coffee and dessert.”
At that, she looked at him with a fat smile. “You really do know me, don’t you?”
“I do. I could have picked up wine, but, in your case, coffee is preferred.”
“Wine is always nice, but it feels like it’s too early for wine,” she noted. He looked at her askance. She burst out laughing, absolutely loving the joyful playfulness of the evening, after such a hard series of days. “You know this is just what I needed, right?”
“Well, I hope so,” he replied, “but there’s really no guarantee from one moment to the next what you need because I never really know what kind of day you’ve had.”
She nodded slowly. “It’s been pretty tough because, as of today, I don’t really have any other avenues to explore.”
“Ouch,” he murmured.
She nodded. “And we caught two more cases last night—unrelated to the jogging murders—so our plates are all overwhelmed. Therefore, I’ll have to park these until something else breaks.
He nodded. “Sometimes there’s nothing you can do but just do the best that you can do, and then you have to step away.”
She frowned. “I know, but for the four families affected,… walking away just doesn’t seem like an answer.”
“But you aren’t really walking away though, are you?” he asked. “That was just a turn of phrase.”
“I know. I get it.” She picked up the meat pie and bit into it, and immediately her mouth was filled with the taste of hot beef gravy and onion. “Oh my God.” She licked the gravy, dripping down her fingers. “Where did you get these?”
“Same deli,” he said. “They make them there.” She shot him a look, and he nodded. “You can get anything in Vancouver. You know that, right?”
She smiled. “I do know. It just seems odd that you would have picked some of these things.”
“Not at all. I have eclectic tastes. I knew Mama would be more than interested in packing us up a big basketful, but that wouldn’t likely stay hot and isn’t as delicious cold.”
“Maybe not,” she agreed, “but just the thought of it makes my mouth water.” She took another bite of the meat pie. “This is beautiful.”
He nodded. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Before long, her plate was empty, and she sat back, patting her tummy. “And I suppose I now have to wait half an hour to go back into the water?”
He looked over at her, then smiled and asked, “How about coffee?”
After that suggestion, she studied the box. “This is one of those take-out boxes, isn’t it?”
“It is,” he confirmed. “It’s probably way more coffee than we needed, but I figured,What the hell?This way you could at least have all you wanted.”
There were take-out cups for them too. She tilted the box off to the side, noting the pour spout at the end, and carefully poured two cups of coffee. As she sat back, she saw a meat pie left too. She studied it, looked at him. Then she looked at the meat pie, looked back at him, and grinned.
“Go for it,” he said.
She didn’t need any second urgings and snatched it up in her fingers and bit into it, almost swooning in delight as her mouth filled with the rich gravy taste. “I can’t even believe how good this is,” she whispered.
Finally, with that finished and a cup of coffee to top things off, she sat with her knees tucked up against her chest and just watched the area. A few other people were around, some people running, others out with their families. She said, “It’s just beautiful here, isn’t it?”
“It’s one of the most gorgeous cities in the world,” he stated.
“I have to keep reminding myself of that, since I’m in a job that highlights the ugliness instead.”
He reached over and gently picked up her hand. “You are dealing with the ugly parts of life, but it’s a very important job that you do.”
“Is it?” she asked. “The families hate it when we don’t make any progress. The killers hate it when we pick them up, and thenthere are all the people in the media who hound us constantly for updates.”