“Is this your glove?”
“Yes.”
She read the label on the wrist strap.
“Rawlings,” she said. “Is it a good one?”
“Yes.”
“Have you always had it?”
“Since the Dodgers signed me.”
“Do you still use it when you play softball?”
“Sure. That’s why the pocket is so big.”
Lilly nodded, looking at the glove.
“I’d love to see you play some night.”
Jesse looked at the calendar on his desk next to Jenn’s picture.
“We play Thursday night,” he said. “Game starts at six.”
Lilly nodded. She put the glove back on top of the file cabinet.
“How about Molly?” she said.
“How about her?”
“You and she? Anything?”
“No. Molly’s married, got kids in school.”
“That doesn’t always prevent things,” Lilly said.
“It does in this case.”
“What’s her husband do?”
“He’s a carpenter. Works in the Rucker Boatyard.”
“Does she ever do anything but cover the front desk?” Lilly said.
“Sure.”
“So she’s not just a secretary with a gun?”
“No. She likes the day shift and she likes to be in the station so her kids can reach her if they need to.”
“Couldn’t they reach their father—at the boatyard?”
“They can.”
“Fathers are as responsible for their children as mothers.”
“That would be my guess,” Jesse said.
She smiled at him.
“You’re pretty hard to argue with, aren’t you?”
“I think so,” Jesse said.
Lilly got up again and walked past Jesse’s desk and stared down at the fire trucks parked outside the station.
“I’ve never had sex in a police station,” she said.
Jesse smiled. “Me either.”
“Does anyone ever have sex in one of the cells?” Lilly said.
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Maybe somebody should,” Lilly said.
“I don’t think so.”
“Would you dare?” Lilly said. Her voice was bubbly with humor and something else.
“No.”
“Scaredy-cat?” Lilly said.
“That’s me,” Jesse said.
“I’ve always had a fantasy of sex in some public place.”
“You have a hidden side,” Jesse said.
Lilly turned from the window and looked directly at him. The humor and something else in her voice glistened in her eyes.
“I do,” she said.
Jesse didn’t say anything.
