Written by Beth
"There's rosemary; that's for remembrance," Munch said under
"What?" Kay asked, and Munch had to smile at the all-too-
familiar look on her face. What in hell are you *talking*
about? it said.
He gestured at the herbs neatly laid out in the stall before
them. "*Hamlet.* When Ophelia goes mad after the death of
her father, she hands out flowers and herbs that signify her
grief. Rosemary stood for remembrance."
Kay stared at the rosemary. "Okay, but why mention it now?"
Munch shrugged. "Who knows what causes the mind to fire one
way or another?" he asked. "I think I see an open table over
They walked across the farmer's market then sat down.
"How long do you have?" Munch asked.
Kay consulted her watch. "An hour, give or take," she said,
then looked curiously around at the various food stands.
"So, is this the homicide unit's new hangout?" Her face was
"Not exactly," Munch said. "I come here to read sometimes."
"The farmers sell porno mags?" Kay looked around with
wide eyes, mugged a bit.
Munch raised eyebrows at her, then watched until she
laughed. Her whole face lit up when she was amused.
"So . . . food," he finally said. "I'm buying, okay?"
"Fine with me," Kay said.
"How about something from the Indian place over there?" John
suggested. "Hands down the best curry in town."
Kay looked vaguely pained. "I . . . How about a sandwich or
"Your wish is my command," Munch said, grinning a little.
He'd forgotten that Kay wasn't exactly adventurous when it
came to lunch. "Turkey on wheat, right?"
Kay raised her hands in amazement. "Get outta here!"
"Hey--I remember the favorite sandwiches of all the women in
my life," Munch gravely told her. "Point of honor."
"And here I was thinking there were no gentlemen left," Kay
said as he walked away.
"Catch any fugitives yet?" Munch asked as he watched Kay
wolf down her sandwich. It was a real pleasure to see a
woman who wasn't afraid to be voracious.
Kay took a swig of orange juice.
"Oh yeah," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her
Munch smiled. "Really, though. How is it down there?"
Kay looked away, something she tended to do when trying to
figure out exactly what to say, Munch had noticed.
"It's different," she at last said. "A lot less depressing,
a lot more boring. All in all, there are far worse places
He nodded. "And the people?"
Kay shrugged. "Haven't had any problems."
"You'd hardly recognize homicide right now," Munch said.
"Lots of new blood."
"Yeah, well it's that way everywhere now, isn't it?" Kay
said matter-of-factly, picking up her orange juice bottle
and beginning to peel off the label. "I've heard a few
things about someone from Seattle, I think."
"Laura Ballard," Munch said, then sighed. "She's--well, I
suppose she's a good enough cop, but get this: there are
flowers on Frank's desk now."
Kay smiled broadly. "Oh, he's going to love that," she
said. "Half of me wants to come back just to see the look
on his face when he finds them."
"Are you?" Munch asked.
"Am I what?"
"Coming back," he said impatiently. "We could really stand
to have you, Kay."
Kay shifted in her chair. "That's, well . . . I don't
Munch leaned forward, spoke with great urgency. "Kay, that
whole Felton thing was--none of us was thinking right, okay?
Gee included. And I--it would be a huge shame if you were
to go away because of--"
"That's not it," Kay quickly interrupted, then rolled her
eyes and sighed. "Well, that's not all of it. I just--
things change, you know? Maybe it'd be good to do something
else for a while."
"You are a murder police," Munch firmly said. "And a great
one, too. It's where you belong, Kay."
Kay pushed away her half-eaten sandwich, then leaned back in
her chair and started twisting her hair into a bun. Munch
watched, fascinated, as she somehow got it to stay in place
without so much as a hairpin. It seemed like forever since
he'd seen her do that.
"People change, John," she said once her hair was up. "And
anyway, by the end of my days in homicide, I was getting
pretty damn frustrated. I wasn't even going out on cases,
anymore--did you notice that? Hmm?"
John slowly nodded. Why had they let that happen? What had
Gee been thinking?
"Hell--once I made sergeant, seems like the only reason I
was around was to do research and take messages for other
people." Kay shook her head in disgust. "That and try to
get Meldrick Lewis to do his damn job."
"Hey, far better men than you have failed at that," Munch
said, feeling uncomfortable.
Kay gave a short laugh, then looked straight at him. "In
fugitive, I go out every day if I want."
"Yeah, but in fugitive, you're not doing God's work," Munch
returned, and Kay grimaced.
"I'm okay with that," she said. "I think I was getting a
little sick of running around for God."
She really wasn't kidding, not even a little bit. Munch
"So what about you?" Kay asked as she crumpled up the paper
her sandwich had been wrapped in. "You still happy in
"Oh yeah," he said. "I show up, I drive around, I do
paperwork, I go home. It's a job."
Kay frowned. "Talk about being a fine detective . . .
You've done some pretty damn good work yourself, you know?"
Munch made a noise of disgust.
"I mean it," Kay said. "When you care about a case, there's
no one better. Really, John."
"Yeah, well, motivation's not exactly growing on trees these
days," Munch said. "Particularly when my favorite people
keep leaving the department."
"It's not like we're never gonna see each other again, you
know?" Kay softly said.
"Okay, then, consider this: you've been in fugitive for,
what, two months, right?"
"How many times have we spoken since then, Kay? How many?"
She reddened a little. "So, we'd have to make a point of
it. We could do that."
Munch raised eyebrows. "You'd be up for that?"
Kay looked blankly at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"
He didn't even want to touch that one. "Okay, then. Why
don't we set something up now?" Munch reached inside his
jacket for his date book, then froze when he saw the look on
"Uh, how 'bout I just call you?" she softly said.
"What--I said something wrong? I've offended you?"
"No! No." Kay looked earnestly at him. "It's just . . .
Seeing you brings back an awful lot of memories, you know?
Good and bad."
She looked off into the distance for a moment.
"And I can't be thinking about homicide all the time if I'm
going to do a good job in fugitive."
Munch couldn't speak.
"It's not personal, John. It's not that at all. I just--
Look: leaving the murder police is not an easy thing to do,
For the first time that afternoon, Kay looked awkward, and a
"You can understand that, right?"
Munch took a deep breath, pulled himself together. "Yeah,"
he finally said. "I understand. But listen: if you don't
call me in a few months, I'm going to march down there,
drag you out to lunch, and force-feed you, all right?"
Kay gave him a smile. "Deal," she said, then looked down at
her watch. "I should probably be going now."
"Well, then." John stood up and extended a hand to her.
"Always a pleasure, sergeant."
"It's good to see you, too, John," Kay said with feeling,
then got up, stepped neatly around his hand, and gave him a
hug. Once his mind stopped reeling, Munch slowly put his
arms around her and leaned down a bit, closing his eyes and
pressing closer. Her hair smelled like flowers.
"Okay then," Kay said after a little while, gently pushing
him away. She looked unsettled. "Take care, Munch, all
right? And you'll hear from me in a few months. Promise."
John smiled down at her and didn't think of Bolander and all
his phone calls. "Great," he finally said. "I--really--it
was great to see you again, Kay. I wish you the best of
"Thanks," she said, then worked a small notebook out of her
coat pocket and began to flip through it.
"Bye, Kay," Munch said, grinning a little. Her mind was
obviously already elsewhere.
"What? Oh. Bye, John," Kay said, and gave him a final
crooked smile before walking off.