I flushed with mortification. “I’m sorry I did. I hated it when everyone looked at Jason like they were sure he’d done it, when I knew he hadn’t. I don’t think Dove murdered Crystal. I don’t think he cared enough about her to do that to her.”

“But maybe she ruined his marriage.”

“Still, he wouldn’t do that. Dove would be mad at himself, not at her. And she was pregnant. Dove wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Because I can read his mind and see his innocence, I thought. But the vampires and Weres had come out, not me. I was hardly a supernatural creature. I was just a variation on human. “I don’t think that’s in Dove,” I said. “I don’t see it.”

“And we’re supposed to accept that as proof?” Lattesta said.

“I don’t care what you do with it,” I said, stopping short of offering a suggestion as to exactly what he might try. “You asked me; I answered you.”

“So you do think this was a hate crime?”

It was my turn to look down at the table. I didn’t have a notepad to scribble on, but I wanted to consider what I was about to say. “Yes,” I told them finally. “I think it was a hate crime. But I don’t know if it was personal hate, because Crystal was a slut . . . or racial hate, because she was a werepanther.” I shrugged. “If I hear anything, I’ll tell you. I want this solved.”

“Hear anything? In the bar?” Lattesta’s expression was avid. Finally, a human man saw me as intensely valuable. Just my luck he was happily married and thought I was a freak.

“Yes,” I said. “I might hear something in the bar.”

They left after that, and I was glad to see them go. It was my day off. I felt I should do something special today to celebrate, since I was coming off such a difficult time, but I couldn’t think of anything to do. I looked at the Weather Channel and saw the high for today was supposed to be in the sixties. I decided winter was officially over, even though it was still January. It would get cold again, but I was going to enjoy the day.