“What?”
“Nothing. We just like the same pizza.”
“Want to get married?”
“Shithead,” he murmured.
I laughed, moved farther into the room, and set my bag down near the bed.
“Want a beer?” Calvin asked, opening the fridge.
“Sure. Thanks.”
He pulled out two bottles and popped off the tops. He walked over and handed me one before dragging a stool from beside the dry-foods shelf. “Here, sit down.” Calvin pulled up a matching stool from a tiny door near the bed that I figured was probably a closet, sitting down near me.
“What did you want to discuss with me, about the case?” I asked.
He took a drink, paused, then took another. “You won’t like it.”
“Oh great.”
Calvin sighed, rubbing his hand absently on his thigh, and I noted with interest it was the same one he’d been shot in. I wondered if it hurt him still. Like when it rained…. “The evidence is beginning to stack up.”
“Against me? Jesus—”
“No, not you.”
Well, I was surprised. “Who, then?”
“Neil.”
I almost dropped my beer. “W-Wait. You mean—holy hell, you weren’t kidding, were you?”
Calvin shook his head.
“Why? How can he even be a suspect?Imake a better suspect!”
“Because we’ve ruled you out based on your alibis. And you sure as hell didn’t give yourself a concussion. Look. Neil has keys to the Emporium and knows the security access code, doesn’t he?”
“Y-Yes,” I stammered, trying to get in a word, but Calvin continued.
“And he has keys to your apartment. Still. And your place was broken into the day after you apparently broke up? How did he take it?” Calvin was all cop now, his tone different. Sterner. A bit harsh. He must have played the bad cop more often than not.
“Well, of course he wasn’t thrilled about it,” I protested. “I admitted to sleeping with you and then told him I wanted to end a four-year relationship.”
“And the next morning you received flowers, which were left in the shop prior to your arrival,” Calvin continued.
“Yeah, but—”
“You’d already been having difficulties in your relationship when this all began,” Calvin said. “And these events are now fixating on you, more than any other victim.”
My throat was so dry, I needed another drink of beer just to swallow. “Neil isn’t—God no. He’s not a killer! He’s a cop.”
“That doesn’t always mean they’re a good person,” Calvin said quietly.
“You realize that you’re suggesting I’ve been dating and sleeping with a deranged killer, don’t you? Fuck me! I know my choice in guys isn’t always stellar, but I’m notthatbad!”
“I’m only presenting the facts the way I see them,” Calvin said, a bit more gentle now.
