I felt myself smiling. “Funny, Decker. I was going to say the same thing.”

After such an extraordinary night, I was glad that my shift contained the usual suspects: drunks, hookers, hustlers, and other various and sundry miscreants. I rode with my sometimes partner—Graham Beaudry—who wavered between hours on the Day and Evening watch. He was one of the few men in the department whom I didn’t absolutely distrust.

Tonight was made up of banal traffic tickets and motorist warnings sandwiched in between other “hot” incidents. On the plate were a couple of alcohol-related domestics, a hysterical wife who had blown up her stove, a bad fender bender that sent a couple of people to Adventist (they would be okay), and a missing teen who turned out to be sniffing glue in her boyfriend’s garage apartment.

I finished my shift at eleven, and because the station house was so close to Mid-City Pediatric, I figured I’d take a chance and try to find out something about the baby’s blood work. I knew that Koby was my best bet for information, but I didn’t want to give the guy the impression that I was stalking him. But if I saw him, well, what could I do? And if I couldn’t get any information on the abandoned infant, perhaps I could just hold her in my arms again. Like Marnie the elfin nurse had said, babies thrive on human contact.

After checking in at the front desk, I was allowed to go up to the neonatal ward. Marnie wasn’t on shift, but Koby was. He was wearing a white coat over a denim shirt and jeans. He saw me through tired eyes and his face lit up.

“You are here. I hope it’s me and not hospital coffee.”

I smiled. “Have you gone home since last night?”

“Why? I look that tired?”

“You look fine.”

“I’m sure I don’t. Two people called in sick. I do a double shift, working with five hours of sleep.”

“That’s rough.”

“I can manage. You look lovely.”

“Thank you. I like the white coat. Very eminent.”

He smiled. “Almost like a real doctor, no?”

I felt myself getting warm. “I didn’t mean it that way at all.”

“I am teasing you because you blush so easily. I find it charming.”

“To me, it’s just annoying.”

“You are forced to wear your emotions. I can hide behind my dark complexion. I wear the white coat because I just finished up a teaching seminar with a group of nursing students from one of the colleges. USC, I think.” He checked his watch. “I finish maybe fifteen minutes ago.”

“This late?”

“Night classes … it’s part of the curriculum. I take them on rounds … the hands-on approach. Of course, all it does is scare them.” He rolled his eyes. “The hospital likes us to wear white coats instead of scrubs when we lecture. It’s ridiculous—first the scrubs, then the coat, then back to the scrubs. I change so much, I should be on a catwalk.”