I LEFT THE Homicide squad room in a hurry that evening, determined to get out of Jacobi’s line of sight before I got drafted into someone else’s case. I’d just stepped into the elevator when, damn it, my cell phone buzzed.

It was Yuki; she was funny, passionate, and going through a rough time, so I pressed the phone to my ear and she peppered me with her customary rat-a-tat speech.

“Lindsay, my head’s spinning off my neck. Can you meet me at MacBain’s? Like, now?”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re busy.”

“I’ve got plans,” I said, “but I can have a quick beer-”

“I’ll meet you in five.”

MacBain’s Beers O’ the World Pub is a cops-and-lawyers hangout two blocks from the Hall of Justice. I got my car out of the all-day lot and headed east on Bryant, telling myself that I’d still have time to pick up the shrimp on the way home.

I entered the bar, found a tiny table near the window, and had just ordered two Coronas from the waitress when I saw Yuki elbowing her way through the crowd, coming toward me. She was talking before she sat down.

“You ordered? Good. How are you? Okay?”

The waitress brought the beer, and Yuki asked for a burger well-done with cheese fries.

“You’re not eating?” she said.

“I’m cooking a late dinner for Joe.”

“Ah.”

She put a hand to her brow as if shielding her eyes from the light bouncing off my engagement ring.

“Must be nice.”

“Yeah,” I said, grinning at her.

Being engaged was still new to me after months and months of a cross-country roller-coaster romance. Now Joe and I lived together, and we still hadn’t sat down to dinner at the same time in two weeks. I’d promised him shrimp pomodoro tonight, and I was looking forward to the whole deal: the cooking, the supping, the afterglow. “So what’s going on?” I asked Yuki.