'You sound defensive.'
'I'm not defensive.'
'Jack, all couples have problems sometimes. I'm sure he finds you very attractive.'
'We're not having any problems in bed, Herb. That is, when we find the time to go to bed.'
'I thought, last night . . .'
'Did you hear about the shooting at the Cubby Bear?'
I watched Herb put two and two together in his head.
'You know, I was thinking that might be you, but when you didn't say anything this morning . . .'
I gave Herb a quick rundown of the events last night, ending with my argument with Latham.
'So I didn't get laid last night, because he was acting like a jerk.'
'Wanting to move in with the woman he loves is him acting like a jerk?'
'I . . . uh . . .'
'He's told you he loves you, right?'
'Yeah, but . . .'
'Have you said it back?'
'I . . . uh . . .'
'You called him today?'
This I could answer.
'Three times. He hasn't called me back.'
'When you called him, did you apologize for acting like a horse's ass?'
'Why should I apologize? He wants to stick my mother in a nursing home.'
'He wants to figure out how to share his life with you, and you told him he was tooting his own horn.'
Oops.
'Jack.' Herb turned a shade of red usually reserved for apples. 'I don't mean to cut out on you, but I have to run, and you might want to avert your eyes.'
'Why? Oh -- the Viagra's kicking in?'
'I just pitched a tent in my pants.'
Herb picked up a manila folder and held it out well in front of his lap.
'That stuff really works,' I said, for lack of anything better.
'Good night, Jack. Now if you'll excuse me.'
'Good night, Herb. Give Bernice my best. Er, I mean, your best. Have a nice evening. Have fun. I'll shut up now.'
Herb slunk out the door while I counted the ceiling tiles.
After he made his embarrassing exit, I picked up the phone, swallowed pride, and called Latham. His machine picked up.
'Hi, Latham. Look, I . . .'
Say you're sorry, I told myself. Say it.
But nothing came out.
'. . . I'll call you tomorrow.'
Why the hell had I choked? Why was apologizing such a big deal? I could admit to myself I'd made a mistake, why couldn't I admit it to Latham?
'Lieutenant?'
I looked up, saw Fuller standing in my doorway.
'Come in.'
He set a computer printout on my desk.
'I finished the database. There weren't any connections between your previous cases and County's sign-in book.'
'Thanks. I'll go over it later.'
I'd intended that to be a dismissal, but he stayed put.
'Anything else?' I asked.
'Look, Lieut, I . . . I'd just like to help.'
I considered it. The only person I really trusted was Herb. But Fuller had been extremely helpful to many of my
