"Jessie Porter. It's nice to meet you. So, you're a cop?"

"A homicide detective, actually. You know, it really wasn't smart of you to come in here by yourself. What if I had been an axe murderer or a rapist?"

"I'm a pretty good judge of men. I can tell which ones are the creeps and which ones are nice. I could tell right away that you were nice."

"I've seen too many dead girls who went somewhere with a guy they thought they could trust. I know this is a cliché, but it's true: better safe than sorry."

Jessie shrugged.

Kellerman looked at her for a moment, thinking how odd it was that just a few hours ago his own head had been all jammed up with thoughts of his own problems, and now that he was talking to someone who was really hard up, his problems seemed very far away. They'd come back once she left, he knew, but meanwhile he'd try to cheer her up, do maybe one last good deed.

"You don't have to leave yet," Kellerman said. "Have a slice of pizza with me."

Jessie's eyes lit up. "Really? Do you mean that?"

"Sure," Kellerman said. He went over to a cabinet and took out a couple of paper plates, napkins, and plastic cups. He unfolded a card table that he hardly ever bothered with when he ate alone. Then he picked up the pie from the floor and slid it out of its keep-warm pouch. Then he got out another chair so he could sit across from Jessie. "Do you want something to drink? I've got orange juice or milk."

"Milk would be great, thanks."

Kellerman brought the milk to the table and poured for them both. Then he "served" the pizza. The girl seemed really grateful. Kellerman couldn't help but contrast this with the times that he and Julianna Cox had eaten pizza here together. One of the biggest differences was that there wasn't any booze. The milk made the whole thing seem so fresh and innocent.

They ate their pizza in silence for a few minutes, then Kellerman asked Jessie was she was studying in school. She blushed slightly before answering.

"I'm majoring in archaeology and minoring in accounting. I'm going to end up being an accountant even though I don't want to be. But poor girls don't get to become archaeologists, especially when they have to take care of their alcoholic mothers." The last sentence came out bitterly. "But at least I won't have to be an accountant for another couple of years. I'm only in school part time and at this rate I'll never get out of there."

"I'm sorry," Kellerman said. "But maybe there's something else you can do other than accounting. Teaching is a steady job. They're always looking for teachers. Or even a cop. You've probably got enough college credits that they'd give you a signing bonus. Being a detective is a little like being an archaeologist, if you think about it. They both have to work to piece together the story of what happened at a particular time and place."

"That makes sense, that an archaeologist is like a detective. I never thought of it before," Jessie said.

"Honestly, neither did I," Kellerman said with a grin. "How would I look in Indiana Jones's fedora?"

"Good," Jessie said.

Their knees bumped slightly as Jessie leaned forward to take another slice of pizza.