Page 18 of Conquer

“How long have you been at the investigator’s office?” I asked.

I knew the answer, of course, but from what I had seen on television, these were the types of questions you asked when you were getting to know someone. It was weird to think of getting to know her since I felt like I knew her so well already, but I could handle this.

“About twelve years. I started right after college. How long have you been a cop?” she said.

“Feels like forever,” I responded.

“Yeah, I get it,” she said, surprising me.

“What you mean?” I asked.

“For some, it’s just work, but for others…it gets in our blood. Becomes a part of us.”

“Yeah, exactly,” I said.

She didn’t know that we were discussing two completely different things, but what she said was true. What I did wasn’t just a job. It was who I was, as fundamental to me as my face, as the blood in my veins.

And it had brought me here, to this woman.

“So, tell me about you,” Sam said a moment later.

I looked at her, pondering my answer. “There’s nothing tell,” I said.

She smiled softly in the way of teacher correcting a student.

“That’s my line, Adrian,” she said.

I laughed. “I find that hard to believe,” I said.

She shook her head, grabbing another chip. “You would be mistaken, my friend,” she said.

“Explain.”

“So pushy,” she said, though a smile still played on her face. “But I’m serious. There is not much to me. I grew up in the state. Went to state college. I live two blocks from my mother. I’ve only ever had one job. Not much to tell.”

“I see it very differently,” I said.

“Explain,” she said, tossing my word back at me.

“You have roots. You have a home,” I said.

I didn’t tell her how I envied her that, but she asked the next question. “You don’t?”

“No. I’ve never stayed in one place long enough to call it home. And with my work, even if I’m physically somewhere, I’m not really there, you know what I mean?”

She nodded her head slowly. “I know exactly what you mean. You say I have roots, but I feel the same way. I’m here in this place, but I don’t really feel a part of it,” she said. She looked out the windows before looking back at me. “Like, I go through the motions, but it’s not all there,” she said.

“Yeah,” I responded.

There was nothing else to say. She could have been describing my life just as easily as she was hers, and it brought me such sadness to know that. I hoped she’d one day find the place where she belonged.

“So,” I said a few seconds later, “two blocks from your mother?”

Sam smiled, her eyes taking on a sweet embarrassment.

“Yeah, but in my defense, she moved to be closer to me.”

She brightened and looked at the waiter who had approached. “The margaritas are here,” she said with a huge smile.

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