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Michael sighed and nodded. “All right. Thank you. Let me know if something pops up on the lab report.”

He hung up and looked at Faith. “That was CSI. Security footage confirms Delaney’s alibi. He’s not our guy.”

The two of them had returned to Faith’s apartment after interviewing Delaney. With no immediate leads, they had gotten lunch, then spent the afternoon brainstorming. More accurately, they had spent the afternoon thinking in circles and coming up with nothing helpful.

“Why are they bothering with the lab report then?” she asked.

“Just in case one of the other staff or customers is responsible. So far, that’s the most recent connection between our two victims.”

“Right. Good point.”

She sighed and let her chin sink into her hands. “So what do we do now?”

Michael shook his head. “I don’t know. We’ve got… actually we have no daylight left. It’s already evening? Where the hell did the day go?”

“Sounds like you answered your own question,” she quipped. She sighed again and lifted her head. “Well, I say we grab some dinner, and then we look through the victims again and see if we have any more connections.”

“You said you wanted to figure out how the poison was delivered. Should we look into that?”

She bit her lip softly. “I just don’t know what it could be besides the food. There’s no trace of it on their skin, and there are no needle marks. Their bronchial tubes are clear, so they didn’t breathe it in. The only way it gets into their bodies is if they eat it. Unless I’m completely missing something here.”

“It just doesn’t make sense,” Michael said. “How do two people die at different restaurants from the same poison? How do they exhibit different symptoms? How do they show none of those symptoms right up until the moment they died?”

“If it’s a fast-acting poison, then it wouldn’t take long to kill them.”

“If it’s a fast-acting poison, then where is it? Why can’t CSI find a trace of it?”

“They’re cleaning the scene before police get there?”

“Then where is that on the camera? Security feeds show nothing but the usual panic. No one touches the victims except the brave guy who tries to save Grimes from choking, and no one touches the dishes except the server at the sushi place. She could have wiped prints off the outside, but the camera makes it clear she never touches the inside of the water glass or the edamame bowl.” He shook his head. “No, I don’t see any sign of the staff tampering.”

“What about before the meal?”

“I haven’t reviewed the tapes personally, but the cops didn’t say anything. You think we should look at it ourselves?”

She sighed. “No, I think it’d be pretty clear if someone slipped something. If we run out of things to do, we can review the tapes, but otherwise, let’s not waste our time.”

“We’re kind of out of things to do, Faith.”

She dropped her chin into her hands again. “Yeah. Damn it. What if it was a slow-acting poison?”

“Slow acting and revealed no symptoms and then all the symptoms right in the last minute?”

“We don’t know that it was symptomless. They could have been having problems before and just not revealed anything. They might not even have known anything was wrong.”

“I believe that about Crestwood. Heart trouble can be a silent killer. But I don’t believe it about Grimes. You don’t have nothing for… damn it, we don’t even know how long ago they were poisoned.”

They fell silent for a while. Turk broke the silence by whining softly.

Faith scratched him behind the ears. “Turk’s right. If we’re going to keep wandering in circles, we might as well do so on a full belly. What do you want?”

“Some of Ellie’s homemade lasagna,” Michael said wistfully.

“Go home, then. Seriously. We’re not going to learn anything else by orbiting the same problem. Let’s give ourselves a night to reset and attack this with fresh eyes in the morning. Have some lasagna, have some Ellie, and we’ll meet at Morning Glory for coffee.”

“It’s weird that you said have some Ellie.”

“Like you haven’t said much worse. Besides, it doesn’t have to be about sex. I’m sure you guys cuddle and talk and watch TV too. Just get some time in with your wife.”

“Believe me, nothing sounds more amazing than that right now. But it’s better if I don’t go home. I’ve been really good about not bringing work home, and if I go home, then I will have literally done the opposite of that.”

Faith’s smile faded. “Yeah. Good point.”

Michael frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I think I’ll go for a walk, though. I’ll pick up something from the liquor store on my way home. We can tv dinner it like the good old days.”

“If you’re going on a walk, then something’s wrong.”

“And you know that letting me go on the walk will fix it.”

His frown deepened. “And you know that I’m going to be pissy about the fact that you won’t talk to me about it.”

“And you know that I’m going to talk to you about it after it’s all figured out.” She stood and patted his cheek. “Text me what you want from the liquor store. Come on, Turk.”

“I’ll play along,” Michael called after her, “but I won’t like it!”

She laughed and gave him a thumbs-up. He returned a different finger, and she laughed again.

The weather was cooler outside, but not what Faith would consider cool, so she took her sweater off after a block and tied it around her waste. The liquor store was a mile away. That meant twenty minutes there, five or ten minutes to shop and twenty minutes back. Forty-five minutes to come to terms with the feelings that Michael’s statement about bringing work home had evoked.

That had never been an issue for Faith and David. They had lived apart for the entirety of their relationship, and Faith only saw him when she wasn’t on a case. He knew not to bother her when she was working, and she was able to process through whatever emotions she felt without involving him.

Then again, she had called him a couple of times while on a case to vent, and he’d been very supportive. One time, he had even said something that had helped her connect the dots on a case and solve the crime.

But still, once in a while, over the phone was different from every night.

How was it different from what Michael and Ellie did, though? Faith would still be away from David when she was on a case. She would be in a hotel room apart from him and not return until the case was over. That worked great for Michael and Ellie.

The problem was that she wasn’t Michael and David wasn’t Ellie. Ellie was perfectly content to leave Michael’s work with Michael. Faith was sure she was ready with a hug and a kiss when he needed reassurance but based on the way Michael talked and her own limited experience with Ellie, she preferred to be left out of the grittiness of her husband’s job.

David wasn’t like that. He didn’t argue with Faith about it anymore, but she could tell that it bothered him when she deflected questions about work and didn’t want to discuss things like the West case. He wanted to share every part of Faith’s life with her. How long would he be content living on the outside of the most important part of her life?

Michael was content to keep his marriage separate from his job. He saw Ellie as an escape from the stress of the job, a safe haven where he could forget all about work and be nothing more than a loving husband who enjoyed the company of a loving wife.

Faith couldn’t do that. She couldn’t separate Faith Bold the person from Special Agent Faith Bold the FBI detective. Even when she was off the job, a part of her was always analyzing, always thinking, always poring over cases and anticipating the next one. She was fine with that part of herself, but she didn’t want to always have to share it with someone else.

It hit her with some alarm that she had treated her relationship more like an activity than a future. That was why she was so nervous to move in with David. She loved him, and she wanted to be with him, but going from dating to living together was a massive and hugely impactful step that would change them forever. And if it didn’t work out, then there wouldn’t be a forever.

Her phone buzzed. Michael, asking for an assortment of junk food more appropriate for a twelve-year-old than a forty-one-year-old.

All the things Ellie doesn’t let him eat , she thought. Maybe I should do her a solid and grab a salad box from the fridge instead.

She got him the items off of his list, of course. She wasn’t his mom, and she wasn’t his wife. The What If continued to float around the background of her mind, but it was a what-if she had long since learned to ignore.

Shopping for dinner pulled her mind away from her worries about David, at least, so she was able to walk back home in a somewhat better mood. She still wasn’t happy with their lack of progress on the case, but that was typical at this stage. They’d figure it out. They always did.

She walked into the apartment and said, “Here you go, Mikey-Mike, here’s your snacks. You owe me for not telling Ellie that you eat like a…”

Her voice trailed off when she saw Michael on the phone, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He met Faith’s eyes and said, “Actually, she just got here. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

He hung up and said what Faith already knew he was going to say. “There’s been another murder.”