I glared at her. “It doesn’t work that way,” I said. I held up my gloved hands. “Yes, I can touch objects and read their histories, but that doesn’t help me figure out which cheese to choose.”

“Wearing your gloves again, I see,” Jane said.

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said.

“I thought you were in control of your power these days.”

I let out a tired sigh. “The way I’ve been using my psychometry on casework for the Department lately, it’s just easier to wear them to keep from triggering on stuff outside of work. I’d like to go a whole evening without using my psychometry, if only to keep from taking a power-induced hit to my blood sugar.”

Jane’s look was stern, concerned. “You should really take better care of your health like that,” she said. “You’re working too hard. This is your first night off from the Department in weeks…”

“Someone’s got to pick up the slack with Connor out,” I said, feeling a little on the spot.

“I know, I know.” Jane looked as if she was about to go into full-blown agitation, but stopped herself. She closed her eyes, let out a long breath, then opened them. “I know,” she said, softer this time. “I’m being selfish. Connor’s your partner and I know he’s entitled to all his vacation time, but taking it all at once?”

“Can we not talk about Connor Christos or work right now?” I asked. “Can we just concentrate on us and tonight…?”

“Fine,” Jane said, smiling. She held her hands palms up to the heavens. “Let us not spoil the sanctity of the sacred Taco Night.”

We wandered off together arm in arm, each with our own basket, in search of the other ingredients. The rest of our shopping trip took only a few more minutes-sour cream, ground beef, lettuce, tomato-but when I hit the canned-goods section, I had to stop. Once again, I was at a crossroads.