“It's, it's...” I looked down and then far away to my left, searching for the right words for a terrible and embarrassing admission. “She's my sister,” I said at last.

“Who is?” said Coulter.

“Deborah” I said. “Your partner. Deborah Morgan. She's in the ICU because of this guy, and I ...” I trailed off very convincingly and waited to see if he could fill in the blanks, or if the cute remarks had been a coincidence.

I knew that” he admitted. He took another sip of soda and then jammed his finger tip back into the mouth of the bottle and let it dangle again. “So you find this guy how?”

“At the elementary school this morning,” I said. “He was shooting video from his car, and I got the tag. I traced it to here.” Coulter nodded. “Uh-huh” he said. “And instead of telling me, or the lieutenant, or even a school crossing guard, you figure to take him on by yourself.”

“Yes” I said.

“Because she's your sister.”

“I wanted to, you know ...” I said.

“Kill him?” he said, and the words hit me with an icy shock.

“No,” I said. “Just, just...”

“Read him his rights?” said Coulter. “Handcuff him? Ask him some tough questions? Blow up his house?”

“I guess, um” I said, as if reluctantly letting out the ugly truth.

“I wanted to, you know. Rough him up a little.”

“Uh-huh” said Coulter. “And then what?” I shrugged, feeling somewhat like a teenage boy caught with a condom. “Then bring him in” I said.

“Not kill him?” Coulter said, raising one badly trimmed eyebrow.

“No” I said. “How could I, um ...?”

“Not stick a knife in him and say, “This is for what you did to my sister“?”

“Come on, Detective. Me?” And I didn't quite bat my eyes at him, but I did my best to look like the charter member of the Geek Patrol that I was in my secret identity.

Coulter simply stared at me for a long and very uncomfortable minute. Then he shook his head again. I dunno, Dex” he said.

“Doesn't really add up.” I gave him a look of pained confusion, which wasn't entirely acting. “What do you mean?” I said.

He took another swig of soda. “You always play by the rules” he said. “Your sister's a cop. Your dad was a cop. You never get in any kind of trouble, ever. Mister Boy Scout. And now you decide you're Rambo?” He made a face as if somebody had put garlic in his Mountain Dew. “Am I missing something? You know, something that makes sense?”

“She's my sister” I said, and it sounded incredibly feeble, even to me.

“Yeah, I got that already” he said. “You got nothing else?” I felt trapped in slow motion while large and ponderous things whizzed past me. My head throbbed and my tongue was too thick,