“All cops have a case that hits too close to home.”

“You’d had many when you worked in the narcotics division.”

“Can’t run from your fears,” she said.

“You run directly toward them. Then and now.”

“This case found me.”

“And it was also taken away, but you continue to chase it. You’re still trying to save Avery.”

“This is becoming a little too much about me.” Unease scraped under her skin, prompting her to rise.

He stood. “I can do some research on the topic of autoasphyxiation, known in my circles as sexual heroin. Maybe I could find something that would offer some insight.”

“I would appreciate it if you have the time.”

“I’ll make the time. This is fascinating in a macabre sort of way.”

“Thank you, Rogan. I appreciate the insight.”

“I doubt I said anything you didn’t already know.”

“Always good to bounce ideas off of people.”

To his credit, he did not ask if they could get together for lunch or coffee. Maybe they really were back to being friends.

Minutes later, Jordan was in her car, the sticky humidity blowing in her partly opened window. She dialed Sunday’s number and waited.

“Mr. Sunday’s office,” a young woman said.

“This is Detective Jordan Poe. I’d like to speak to Mr. Sunday.”

“He’s in a meeting.”

“I’ll be on his doorstep in ten minutes if he doesn’t get on the line right now.”

“Hold.”

She listened to nondescript music as the scenery along I-35 passed her.

“Detective Poe,” Sunday said. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“I understand you are representing a Ms. Stone.”

“No, I am not.”

“You were seen in her hospital room this morning,” she countered.

“Paying a visit to a friend.”

“When’s the last time you saw Walker?”

“In court.” He chuckled softly. “You sound tense.”

She thought about the long scratch along her car door. “Defense fees for a manslaughter charge must be expensive.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Just seems to me if a guy owed you a lot of money, and he couldn’t pay, you might get impatient. You might want to send a message to others like him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Where were you at four a.m. this morning?” she asked.

“In bed with a very pretty woman. Where were you?”

“Did the woman have a name?”

“I didn’t get it.”

“Get it.”

“Am I being charged?”

“No.”

“Ah, but you sound angry and hungry for an arrest.” He chuckled. “You’re tense. Know what an uptight woman needs?”

“I’ll see you soon, Mr. Sunday.” She hung up before he could respond.