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thigh. After a little bit, he turned away from the detective and faced the wall. He braced his hands against it before pressing his forehead to it. He inhaled deeply and counted to ten silently trying to calm himself down. Anderson then asked his questions again, more calmly this time. "Let's start again. You knew my father?"
    "You even said my name sounded familiar."
    "Yeah. I still can't remember if he mentioned you. But knowing my father, the only person he would tell would be my mother. He just couldn't keep anything like that away from her. Look, I don't mean to be an asshole"—his voice was low, more like a rumble than speaking—"but the only people my father was 'unfair' to were those who broke the law. He wouldn't have hurt anyone and for this to happen to him—I don't understand it.
    "I don't either. I've been a cop since I was twenty and I still don't understand how people can do what they do to each other. I'm sorry, Anderson. But I don't have an answer there either."
    Anderson turned and flopped down against the hard chair. He removed the class ring he wore and placed it down against the table. "Harvard," he replied and with a single finger, tilted the ring towards the detective. "He gave me that the day I started working at NYU. That's his class ring—maybe that'll help some. There's an engraving on the inside. I never did know what it meant. He always clammed up when I asked him about it. If you're gonna take it, I need it back."
    Anderson watched the way Leo examined the ring. There was something special about Leo, something just so breathtaking. Perhaps it was the brown of his eyes or the way his hair fell into his eyes when he bowed his head. When Leo finally looked up again, Anderson kept eye contact with the detective for a while longer than necessary. "Just promise me you will get this guy."
    Leo smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "There's no such thing as a perfect murder, Anderson. Just remember that."
    Anderson nodded.
    "How are you holding up?"
    "My best friend is watching me closely—making sure I'm eating and at least pretending to sleep."
    "I used to have a friend like that."
    "Oh yeah? What happened?"
    "He was your father."
    Anderson hung his head then. It seemed he and the detective had something in common. "I will let you get back to your work."
    "You never bother me, Anderson," Leo explained. "If you need anything, all you have to do is call."
    "Or drop by."
    Leo laughed softly. "Or drop by."
    "Thanks." Anderson smiled tightly. "Do you know when they'll release my father's body?"
    "I'll ask the coroner and let you know. The autopsy is finished, so it's just the formalities now."
    "Thank you."
     
    * * * *
     
    It took Anderson a while to get through the hellish New York traffic. When he finally got onto a side street and sped towards a shortcut back home, he decided to stop off and pick up some groceries. Byung would have his ass if he didn't get some food to at least pretend he was eating right. When he finally found a parking spot and hopped from his car, he glanced up at the sky. It looked like rain.
    He grabbed a cart from outside of the store and hurried inside. Uselessly, he stood where he entered. Everything felt new to him. Thinking of the impending rain, he willed his legs to move and began packing healthy food into the cart. By the time he was at the front of the store again, he had gotten over three hundred dollars' worth of food. He ate more calories than regular people because of his workout regimen. But even so, he had the sinking feeling most of it would spoil because of what was happening around him. He paid for the groceries, got back into his car, and sped off towards his house.
    Anderson was almost home when the rain began falling—lightly at first. But when he pulled up into his parking lot, the heavens really opened up. Water drenched everything unmercifully. He sat in the car long after he turned the engine off, hoping it would be one of those rains that would