Sachs told Lucy, “Oh, you’ll meet somebody, have a family.”

“I’ve got my job,” Lucy said quickly. “Don’t have to do everything in life, you know.”

Something was going unsaid here—something that she felt Lucy wanted to divulge. Sachs wondered whether she should push it or not. She tried the oblique approach. “Must be a thousand men in Paquenoke County dying to go out with you.”

After a moment Lucy said, “Fact is, I don’t date much.”

“Really?”

Another pause. Sachs looked up and down the dusty, deserted street. The skateboarder was long gone. Lucy took a breath to say something, opted for a long sip of iced tea instead. Then, on impulse, it seemed, the policewoman said, “You know that medical problem I told you about?”

Sachs nodded.

“Breast cancer. Wasn’t too advanced but the doctor said they probably should do a double radical. And that’s what they did.”

“I’m sorry,” Sachs said, frowning with sympathy. “You go through the treatments?”

“Yup. Was bald for a while. Interesting look.” She sipped more of the iced tea. “I’m three and a half years in remission. So far, so good.” Lucy continued, “Really threw me for a loop, that happening. No history of it in my family. Grandmother’s healthy as a horse. My mom’s still working five days a week at the Mattamuskeet National Wildlife Reserve. She and my dad hike the Appalachian two, three times a year.”

Sachs asked, “You can’t have kids because of the radiation?”

“Oh, no, they used a shield. It’s just… I guess I’m not inclined to date much. You know where a man’s hand goes right after you kiss serious for the first time…”

Sachs couldn’t argue with that.

“I’ll meet some nice guy and we’ll have coffee or something but in ten minutes I start to worry about what he’s going to think when he finds out. And I end up not returning his phone calls.”

Sachs said, “So you’ve given up on a family?”

“Maybe, when I’m older, I’ll meet a widower with a couple grown kids. That’d be nice.”

She said this casually but Sachs could hear in her voice that she’d repeated it to herself often. Maybe every day.

Lucy lowered her head, sighed. “I’d give up my badge in a minute to have children. But, hey, life doesn’t always go in the direction we want.”

“And your ex left you after the operation? What’s his name again?”

“Bud. Not right after. But eight months later. Hell, I can’t blame him.”

“Why do you say that?”

“What?”

“That you can’t blame him?” Sachs asked.

“Just, I can’t. I changed and ended up being different. I turned into something he hadn’t bargained for.”

Sachs said nothing for a moment then she offered, “Lincoln’s different. About as different as they come.”