Lancaster was giving orders in the background to have space made as a gurney was brought in and Mike’s body was placed on it. So long, Mike….
“Where were you at seven this morning?” Winter asked.
Ah-ha!“Mike has only been dead a few hours?”
“Answer the question.”
I knew it. Rigor mortis started with the face—the eyes, jaw, down the neck. His entire body wasn’t affected yet, which meant he had to have been attacked when I was around other people. Given, also, how much snow had piled up in the doorway, it roughly corresponded with what the news had been saying about the city’s expected precipitation per hour.
“Seven? I was home.”
“Doing what?”
“Thinking about getting out of bed.”
“Do you live alone, Mr. Snow?”
I felt the muscle in my throat jump. If I said yes, I would be lying to a cop, which was never good. If I said no, Winter would want the contact information of the second individual.
Would Neil mind?
Of course, but given the circumstances, would he be willing to out himself to a fellow detective, who he believed was a homophobe, if it meant the safety of his boyfriend?
It concerned me greatly that I didn’t have an answer to that question.
“No, not exactly,” I heard myself answer.
Winter looked expectant.
“I live with my boyfriend. He was home. He’d vouch for me.”
“I’m sure he would,” Winter said in a tone I couldn’t quite place. “I’ll need his contact information.” He took out a pad and pen from inside his coat.
I quietly repeated Neil’s cell number, watching as Winter wrote it down. There was no going back now. “Neil Millett.”
He paused and looked up. “CSU?”
“Yeah.”
Winter made a sound that was sort of a snort and a laugh. He wrote down Neil’s name.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Nothing, other than I’m not surprised.”
“What, that I’m gay?”
“That was easy to see,” he replied, not looking up.
I had no idea. I never thought I came off particularlygay. “I didn’t realize I left my neon sign on.”
“I’ll be in touch with Mr. Millett,” Winter said.
“Oh joy.”
“Walk me through your morning.”
“Since seven?” When he nodded, I took a breath and said calmly, “Laid in bed for a while. Neil got up to shower. I went into the kitchen and made coffee and had breakfast. I watched the news. Neil went to work a little before eight. My father called as he left, and then I got dressed to go see him. I stopped at Little Earth—bought donuts and dog biscuits. I left Pop’s around quarter to eleven.” I proceeded to give him Pop’s contact information and address, and the same for the café. “I couldn’t have hurt Mike, and you know it,” I said. “Right? He was killed around seven. That’s what the examiner thinks.”
