“Oh, I see.” She laughed. “If Tad packed one, he’d put in comic books and fruit bars.”

“Keepsakes and photos you can’t replace,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “A little money, your bank book, your birth certificates, any other important paperwork, and at least a change of clothes and an extra pair of shoes.”

“I can do that.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “If only Mama had lived longer,” she said softly. “Or Dad or even Granddaddy.”

“It’s hard to lose parents.”

“You don’t have yours, either, do you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Not for many years.” He pulled up at her office. “I’ll pick you up at five and we’ll swing by and get Tad.”

“Thanks so much,” she said.

He waved away her thanks. “Friends help each other out,” he said simply.

She nodded. She climbed out of the car, closed the door and waved as he drove off.

She went down the steps slowly. Banks was at his desk, on the phone, clearly annoyed at something or someone. He looked up when she walked into the room and smiled with soft black eyes. Her heart melted. She turned away and hung up her ratty jacket, trying to still her pulse.

She mouthed “coffee?” and he nodded. She went to make it while he growled at someone on the other end of the line.

She was just pouring it into two mugs when he came up behind her, so close that she could feel the heat and power of his tall body.

“Thanks,” he said, reaching around her to take one of the cups.

“You’re welcome.”

He didn’t move for a few seconds. Her heart felt as if it were trying to break through her rib cage. He moved away before she had time to wonder if it was deliberate.

“I’ve got SAPD helping on the Reed case,” he said, turning away so that he didn’t see her almost spill her coffee on the floor.

“Have you?” she asked in a tone that was a little high.

“Marquez said that they kept paper files on some cases that hadn’t been transferred to digital media. He was going to have one of his people check it out and see if they had anything they could scan and email to me.”

“That was nice.”

“Marquez has his moments.” He sat back in the chair. “You’re still having trouble breathing,” he added.

She smiled. “It’s hard to get over pneumonia,” she said simply. “I’m much better, but I still get winded when I move around.”

“How the hell did you walk to work this morning?”

“I didn’t. Cal drove us.” She shook her head. “He’s like a bulldozer. You can’t say no to him.”

He glared at her when she didn’t see him. He grimaced. “I guess he’s like family.”