“A couple of homicides from last week. We have persons of interest in both cases, so it’s a matter of getting the forensics team to confirm evidence. I miss having Jordan to bounce ideas off of. She’s a hell of a detective.”

“She loves the work.”

“Yes, she does.”

Santiago’s phone chimed with a text, and he glanced at the screen. “Speaking of the job, it’s calling. I’ve got to go.”

“Sure. Back to work.”

“Are you coming back to work here?” he asked.

“Soon,” she said. “Maybe. It depends on Jordan.”

“Jordan doesn’t like anyone hovering.”

She laughed. “Very true.”

“That tells me I’ll be seeing you around here soon.” He rose and dutifully pushed his chair under the table. “Stay safe.”

“You too.”

Through the front window she watched Santiago stride down the street to an unmarked car. He got in. After flipping on his blinker, he pulled into traffic.

Though tempted to stay put, she tossed her trash, waved to her friends, and left the café. She had no idea where she was going. It had been a long time since she’d had extra time in her schedule. She sometimes logged sixty hours a week at the café, and then there was her art and the NA meetings she attended sometimes twice a week. She checked her watch and knew there was a midmorning meeting down the block in a restaurant that did not open until the afternoon.

She had missed too many meetings the last few weeks because she had been consumed with Jordan and now knew the extra time could not go to waste.

Down the block she looked across the street to an alley where she used to hang out. How many times had she gotten high there? How many stupid choices had she made?

That last time she had gone to Marco, her sobriety, like a wool sweater that was three sizes too small, had scratched her skin and constricted her lungs.

It had been easy to find Walker in those days. A few questions lobbed to the right people had been rewarded with directions to his latest apartment. When she’d knocked on the door, she had not been nervous. She’d been sure of what she wanted—needed. But the instant the door had opened, and Walker had grinned down at her, she had questioned her decision.

“Been a while,” he said easily.

“I’ve been busy.” If she told him she was struggling with sobriety, he would have seen it as a challenge.

“Glad you’re not too busy for an old friend now.” She stepped inside the apartment. This did not feel right. But her cravings silenced all the doubts. Walker closed the door and locked it. “What can I do for you?”

She had been so determined to get high after she had fought with Jordan. Now, she could not bring herself to say the words.