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Saint remained on the cameras.

Wolf took the roof.

Nobody slept.

I returned to the dining room shortly after one.

Judy sat alone at the bar studying the photograph.

Two cups of cold coffee rested near her elbow.

“You should sleep,” I said.

“So should you.”

“I’m on watch.”

“So am I.”

“You’re the lead detective.”

“Yes.”

“That means you need your brain tomorrow.”

“It works without sleep.”

“No one’s brain works on no sleep.”

She looked at me.

“You spent fifteen years in the Army.”

“I learned the value of sleep.”

“You learned to sleep anywhere.”

“That too.”

I sat several stools away.

Not close enough to crowd her.

Not far enough to pretend we weren’t talking.

“You were good with Trigger,” she said.

“He’s my brother.”

“You all loved Ranger.”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

The question could have been intrusive.

It didn’t sound that way.