“This place is like visiting the IKEA store only with less warmth and personality.” Jen kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Would it kill you to put a picture on the wall?”

“I don’t spend that much time here.”

“I don’t blame you. Prison cells are better decorated. I know. I was in one.”

Eve closed the door. “Being an extra in a women-in-prison movie is nothing like a real prison.”

“What do you know?” Her mom dismissed the criticism with a wave of her hand.

“I spent a year as a deputy at the county jail.”

“Not in the Deep South, honey. It’s a different world there. I was in a chain gang in a swamp. They don’t have swamps in LA.”

“You shot the movie in Burbank.”

“Do you always have to argue with me about everything?”

Eve’s shoulders were tensing up already. She didn’t like the terse, uptight person she became when her mother was around but she couldn’t help it. “What are you doing here, Mom? It’s seven a.m. on a Saturday.”

“I know you get up early on Saturdays to ride your bike and I was in the neighborhood.”

“You live in Ventura.” It was a beach community thirty miles northwest of Calabasas. Her mother rented a tiny apartment close enough to the ocean to smell it but not see it.

“I’m visiting your brother today and taking my granddaughter out for a manicure.”

“She’s four,” Eve said.

“It’s never too early to discover the secrets of beauty and marshal your feminine power.” Jen took Eve’s hand and regarded her short, unpolished nails. “She could teach you some things.”

“Cops don’t polish their nails.”

“It would be a nicer world if they did. I brought you bagels and lox spread.” Jen set her paper bag on the kitchen table and went into the kitchen. “Do they sell plates and knives at IKEA?”

“Sit down, Mom. I’ll get it,” Eve said and started gathering the plates and silverware. “But I have to get going soon. I’m in the middle of a case.”

“I know all about it. I saw you again on TV. You were on every local channel.” Jen opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of milk, checked the date, and brought it over to the table. “You’re becoming a celebrity again.”

“It’s not intentional,” Eve said and put a glass, a plate, and a knife in front of her mother.

“It’s so easy for you.” Jen reached into the bag and took out the plastic container of lox spread. “No effort required.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Eve poured milk into their glasses.

“You don’t appreciate the exposure you’re getting,” Jen said. “You never had to work for it.”

“Because I don’t want it, Mom. I’m not an actress or a model.” Eve pulled an onion bagel out of the bag, set it on her plate, and sat down across from her mother. “I don’t need the exposure.”

“Not now, but you certainly used it to your benefit before,” Jen said. She took an onion bagel for herself and began slicing it in half. “You can do it again.”