“ Gary,” I said, straightening, “are you ever going to ask me for sex?”

He blinked, but I thought I saw a flicker of amusement behind his thick glasses. “Are all you Minnesotans in this big a hurry?” he asked.

“Well,” I said, “I can’t speak for all Minnesotans, especially since I come from out West, but in my case it has a lot to do with the fact that I’m a Hennepin County Sheriff’s detective. And if you suggest some kind of sex-for-money deal, then I’m going to have to arrest you, and I’d really rather not do that if it’s all the same to you. I’m guessing it is.”

Gary, who had come perilously close to dropping his cigarette from his mouth onto his lap, said, “You’re a cop?”

“On my good days,” I said, and opened the door to the Chevy and climbed out. Then I turned in the doorway. “One last thing,” I said.

I’d been planning to leave him with an admonition to leave the working girls alone while in Minneapolis, but then I saw something I should have noticed before. His hand, resting on the steering wheel, had a warm tone from the sun even where it wasn’t freckled. All except for a slightly paler line on the ring finger. The tan line was too recent for the passage of time he’d been widowed. He’d been wearing the ring much longer. My glib words dried up in my throat. “Never mind,” I said.

That should have been the end of it, but Gareth’s voice caught up with me.

“Sarah,” he said.

I turned back.

“Be safe,” he said.

It was an unexpected kindness, and I merely nodded, not knowing what I might have said.

Perhaps five minutes of pacing my spot again let me recover my composure, even a little bit of bravado. That made two men I’d let slip through my net tonight. The next guy so much as looks at my ass, I thought, I swear to God, I’m going to arrest him.