Lee said. They’d finished eating and were still working on the bottle of red wine Jesse had picked up on the way to Lee’s small house. “Not a whole lot,” he said. His own tone was measured, unemotional. He wasn’t giving anything away, she thought. “Occasionally she’ll drop me a line—you know, birthdays and such. But no, I can’t say we’re regular correspondents.” Lee glanced up at him. “You ever write to her?” she asked. Jesse took a sip of his wine before he answered. “Can’t say I do.” Jesse noticed that Lee’s glass was empty and leaned over to refill it. “Thanks,” she said. Then, deciding she might as well go for broke now she’d brought the subject up, added, “You miss her at all?” Jesse raised an eyebrow. “What’s this, Lee? Do you check up on the personal life of all your deputies? Is that part of a sheriff’s job?” She flushed slightly. “No, goddamit!” she snapped at him. “I’m asking the question as a friend. That’s what we are, Jesse.
