Sam and I were having sex when Charlie Kane was killed. The two weren’t connected except in point of time, but, working it out later, that’s how it was. We were finished about the same time he was through dying. The phone rang a few minutes later, while we were spread out next to each other, pleasantly exhausted. Sam grumbled, “Ah, can’t they leave us alone?” and the bedside clock said 3:27 when I reached over him for the buzzing phone. The voice on the other end said, “Ms. Vandyk?” and I said yes and they said Charlie’d been killed. I said I’d be down in thirty minutes.

Sam grumbled some more to please me and made comments that were meant to be funny while I was getting dressed to annoy me and asked if he shouldn’t come along. “No,” I said. “You go to sleep. This’ll take a couple of hours, maybe more.” He promised to take me out to breakfast when I got back and was asleep before I left the room. Sam’s awfully sweet but he sleeps more than any man I’ve ever had. But, like a cat, he’d fall asleep quickly and wake up equally quickly, which was nice, what with my hours being so irregular.