She took another bite of the veal parmesan in front of her and gave her dinner companion a small smile. Lewis smiled back nervously. He had been pleasantly surprised when she'd come into his shop the other day. He hadn't seen her since the funeral, although he thought about her often and wondered how she was doing. He was glad she decided to keep in touch, like he'd asked. God, he missed Bobby. He could only imagine how she felt. And he was entirely unsure if she was ready to talk about him yet, so he let her lead the flow of conversation.

This was hard. Lewis had been such a part of Bobby's life that she couldn't look at him without thinking about her late partner, and it was hard. Finally, she decided that maybe talking about him would be easier than thinking about him. "What was he like as a teenager, Lewis?"

"Huh?" Was she really asking…did she really want to talk about Bobby?

"Bobby," she said, as if in answer to his thoughts. "What was he like as a teenager?"

Lewis gave it some thought. "Not a lot different than he was as an adult. He thought a lot." He chuckled softly. "Every time Bobby tried to be spontaneous, he would end up in some kind of trouble." His smile faded. "Then he'd get his ass kicked if his dad ever found out."

"But I thought his dad left."

"Yeah, he did. But that doesn't mean he was gone. And his mom couldn't protect him. We were joking around one time, and I accidentally pushed him in front of a car. He didn't get hurt bad, but when his mom found out, it triggered one of her episodes. Then his dad found out, and he beat the shit out of him. His old man hurt him worse than the car did. Bobby's mom was a great lady when she took her meds and had the schizophrenia under control; she was a good mom then. But when she had an episode, man...she was unpredictable. And it was Bobby that always bore the brunt of it. He had a hard time making the decision to put her in Carmel Ridge, but when the illness got out of control, even with meds, he really had no choice. He did everything he could to be a good son."

She smiled a little. "And he was. How often did his dad come to visit?"

"Too often, if you ask me. He'd take Bobby with him to the track and then give him some money, if he had any left, and tell him to come back in an hour or two or whatever. Bobby learned the hard way never to come back early…and never to be late. His old man was a bastard, though you'd never hear him say that. But Bobby was always a survivor. Nothing took him out for the count, until now. I never knew anything bigger than he was. Except you."

"Me?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "You're not a very big person, Detective Alex, but you're a huge presence. Bobby always told me that. He said you saved him from himself and kept him from hiding in the darkness and never coming back out."

She pushed the noodles on her plate around with her fork. "He had such a violent childhood. That damages kids, Lewis. But Bobby…"

Lewis shook his head. "You can't have been close to Bobby and not seen the damage. But he swore he was gonna be better than his old man. And he was. The Army did him a lot of good. He learned discipline without cruelty, he told me."

"He had such a good heart."

"Yeah. He always did. That was all him, Detective Alex. That was something the old man never damaged. Bobby never stopped being able to love. Like I told you the day we buried him, I never saw him love anybody as much as he loved you. Yeah, he was in love with you, but it was more than that, too. I can't explain it, and neither could he. He just...loved you."

It actually felt good to talk to Lewis about Bobby. Some of what he said had hurt to hear, but it gave her new respect for the good and gentle man he had become. It also helped her to understand the rage that dwelled not far below the surface, a rage he learned to suppress and control. It was the rage, in part, that made him so effective in the interrogation room. It was his gentle manner and genuine kindness that comforted victims and made children feel safe. And it was the entire package—good and bad—that she had come to love so dearly.

Lewis took her home and walked her to the door, making sure she was safe and ok, like Bobby had always done. He smiled his innocent smile. "Uh, thanks, Detective Alex."

"For what, Lewis?"

"For letting me take you to dinner, and for letting me talk about him. I, uh, I really...miss him. I was right. You help me stay...connected. You can call me anytime." He kissed her cheek, a slight blush creeping onto his face. "I don't think he'd mind. Good night."

"Good night, Lewis."

She went into the apartment and set her keys on the table beside the door. She looked around the living room, suddenly feeling closed in. Hurrying across the room, she opened the window and breathed deeply of the fresh night air. She loved the night. She sat lightly on the window sill, continuing to draw deep, slow breaths. A breeze stirred the light curtains, sifting lightly through her hair. And on the breeze she caught a faint whiff of Bobby's cologne. She looked down at the street, thinking someone must be walking by, but the street was empty. She must be imagining things. The breeze blew a little stronger, and she closed her eyes, feeling the freshness of the wind wash over her. And again, came a faint whiff of cologne, and with it, the faint brush of a breeze along her neck, like a kiss from the wind. She opened her eyes to an empty room, and she watched the curtains flutter down as the breeze died away. She walked away from the window to three shelves that Bobby had hung on the wall for her over by the couch. She took his picture from the middle shelf, a smiling close-up shot of him in Central Park, hair messed, eyes bright. She ran her fingers across the glass. "Good night, Bobby," she whispered.

When she crawled into bed, pulling his pillow into her arms, she felt closer to him and that made her miss him all the more. She pulled the pillow tight against her chest, and she cried herself to sleep.