“This is Mr. Adams, the owner,” the uniformed cop announced.“Detective Matteson,” the female detective said, extending her hand, which I shook...“What did you find?”“Nothing, really. They came in through the fire escape, apparently failed to disarm the system, and left before the first patrol car arrived about two minutes after the alarm. May I see your permit and CCL, please?”I smiled and carefully pulled my wallet from my pocket and handed her my FOID, CCL, Chicago Handgun permit, and Chicago. His eyes weren’t on me. ‘Yeah,’ he said, a small smile on his face. ‘Comes in here every day.’ ‘You a little sweet on her?’ He lifted his eyes – sky-blue, I noticed, lighter than mine – and smiled boyishly. ‘She’s . . . out of my league,’ he said. I shrugged. ‘Never know.’ *** I felt strange as I headed out of the little store and back up the street. Carmen was home, even from a block away, I could see the light in her window. I imagined she was playing some Missy Higgins, indeed, as I got. More

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