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The call connects, and the mayor’s assistant’s intake of breath—I recognize the sound at this point—washes through the line.
“I need to speak to the mayor,” I tell her before she starts her spiel. “Immediately.”
“Doctor Mayet.” She knows my voice.We’re way too friggin’ familiar these days.“Hold please.”
“Are you finding fingerprints?” I ask Aubree. “Hand size?”
“Not fingers,” she mutters. “Maybe palm prints. Whoever it was, they held on tight. Like Anna was completely incapable of holding her own weight.”
“Chief Mayet?”
“She probably was,” I tell Aubree. “No way she took the second round of pills on her own. Mayor?” I turn my back on my friend and face the city again. “It’s Minka.” Though of course, he already knows that. “Have you had a vasectomy?”
Silence hangs for the world’s longest second. Then the chilliness in his reply makes my bones cold. “Excuse me?”
“Have you had the male sterilization procedure most commonly known as a vasectomy? You have two adult daughters now. It’s unlikely you desire to make more children. So…” I prompt. “Have you had the procedure?”
Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.
“Yes, I have.”
Dammit!
“I fail to see how that question is appropriate for you to ask me, Doctor Mayet. Just as it would not be appropriate for my daughters to ask.”
“I am not your daughter,” I spit out, irritated with this odd tug-of-war we’ve been waging for months. “I may fit into their age bracket, but that’s as far as our similarities go. When did you have your procedure?”
He huffs out a breath that makes me think of a bull getting pissed. Preparing to run when he sees the red cape. “I had my procedure in the fall of two-thousand and eight. Many years ago.”
“Fourteen years,” I count in my head. “Long time. Have you seen your surgeon since and checked to ensure you’re sterile?”
“Doctor Mayet! This hardly matters, considering the issue at hand. Do you have an update on Anna’s murder?”
“Yeah. She was very likely having a sexual affair with a married man. This married man has had a vasectomy.” I throw each word at him like a hand grenade. Mercilessly, and without a care for the damage left behind. “It would be reasonable to assume that this married man was Anna’s murderer. When their secrets are at risk of being outed, some men are known to get a little… homicidal. So it all matters, actually. Do you have an alibi, yet, for the night before last?”
“Maye—”
“The cops want to speak with you, so you need to find irrefutable proof that you were nowhere near the victim’s home between seven and nine.”
“I don’t have proof! I have nothing to say where I was.”
“Where was your wife?”
“Out of town, visiting the girls,” he snarls. “Tabby had a baby appointment, and she invited Janine to go along. This isn’t the first time, Chief. It’s normal for my wife to travel while I’m busy working.”
“That won’t help you,” I groan, settling on my elbows. “Repetition and routine means premeditation. Did you order takeout?” I offer hopefully. “Tip the driver?”
“No.”
“Have a meeting with any of your staff?”
“No.”
“Text your daughter and ask to video call into the appointment?”
“No! I did nothing. My wife was out of town, and my head was exploding after dealing with people like you. I called off my last few meetings of the day and told my staff I was heading home. Alone. I didn’t bring anyone with me, I didn’t call out. I texted no one, and I didn’t order food in. I made a sandwich in my kitchen, which I didn’t even eat. I poured a snifter of whiskey—I sure as hell drank that—then I sat in the dark, because of my headache. I didn’t turn the TV on. I didn’t touch my phone from the second I arrived home. I didn’t kill Anna Switzer.”
“Why were you at her house earlier that day?”
