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don’t doubt it. Post–Traumatic–Stress–Disorder takes many forms, detective. I won’t bother boring you with them as I’m sure you know by now what PTSD is. You’ve had a hell of a ride over the past few years and sometimes it can take the brain a while to process everything, get it into a context that you can handle. You just need some more time.’
    ‘And my wife?’
    ‘The same,’ Kathryn replied. ‘We’re all people, detective. What affects one person tends to rub off very easily on those close to them, and sometimes that can open wounds which take a long time to heal. Give her space, let her know that you’re trying.’
    ‘Like I said, I don’t drink now.’
    ‘Getting dry isn’t getting better all on its own,’ Kathryn pointed out. ‘You talk much?’
    Griffin shrugged, keeping that steady blue–eyed gaze on her. She felt as though she were being analysed in silence.
    ‘Try harder,’ she said, glancing down at the file to break the spell. ‘You’re young, you’ve got plenty of time to get past this and move forward.’
    ‘You don’t look old,’ Griffin observed.
    Kathryn almost laughed. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’
    Griffin’s smile didn’t slip as he leaned forward on the table, his eyes fixed upon hers.
    ‘That’s what it was meant to be,’ he replied. ‘You’ve been through a lot yourself but you’re looking okay for it.’
    Kathryn’s studied calm slipped and she felt saliva pooling in her throat. ‘Have we met before?’
    Griffin shook his head. ‘You sometimes wear a ring,’ he said. ‘The skin stays smooth after they’re removed ‘cause the sun doesn’t get to it so easy, so I figure you’re either recently separated or you took it off before you came in here.’
    ‘I’m happily attached, actually,’ Kathryn replied, uncertain. ‘Where are you going with this?’
    ‘You’re not the only person who can dig into a stranger’s past just by looking at them,’ Griffin replied. ‘Which means your advice is no better than that I could get from friends in a bar.’
    ‘People in bars tend to like talking about themselves more than helping others.’
    ‘You think that I need help?’
    ‘I think that you need time, and space, to process what’s happened to you.’
    Griffin watched her silently for several long seconds. ‘I need to be able to do my job.’
    ‘Which you will, just as soon as I clear you again for full duty.’
    ‘Which will be when?’
    ‘When you’re ready,’ Kathryn replied.
    ‘Can I ask you something?’
    ‘Anything.’
    ‘You’re in an unhappy relationship, no matter what you might say to hide it,’ Griffin said. ‘So you tell me: if a trained psychologist can’t pick themselves the right person to spend their life with, why should I listen to anything they say about me or what I need?’
    Kathryn managed to hold the detective’s unwavering gaze for long enough to formulate a reply.
    ‘Because I know how to stick with that relationship and make it work,’ she said, ‘not run away from it and hide behind my anger.’
    ‘That why you take the ring off?’
    Kathryn tried to make her jaw work and reply, but before she could do so a sharp knock at the door cut her off as Captain Olsen opened the door and stuck his craggy head inside.
    ‘Sorry, doc’. Griffin, you’re up.’
    ‘Can it wait?’ Kathryn asked.
    The captain shook his head. ‘It’s pretty urgent,’ he said. ‘Maietta’s caught a time–sensitive case.’
    Griffin wasted no time and virtually leaped out of his seat as he flashed Kathryn a relieved smile. ‘Nice to meet you, doc’.’
    ***

5
    Griffin strode into the operations room. An Italian looking female detective was walking toward him, long brown hair flowing across her shoulders over a two–piece dark–grey suit. Jane Maietta’s lips were a hard, thin line, her eyes dark and her expression uncompromising.
    ‘What’s up?’ Griffin asked her.
    Maietta handed him a case file, brand new and