Roger looked at Brian. He smiled lightly, patted the kid’s cheek with the back of his hand, in a manner that suggested some kind of serious age-gap intimacy, and said, “Why don’t you make sure Marge has all the champagne she needs for the party? God knows we’ll need it.” Once Brian had departed, Roger motioned with a stiff nod. “Follow me, gentlemen.”

Roger led the way upstairs, the floorplan an echo of the downstairs portion—open, industrial, and white. Although, this area was clearly off-limits to any sort of staff or clientele, as it appeared to house all of Roger’s gear and projects. From an expensive Mac computer and 3-D printer setup, to several worktables cluttered with various gizmos and gadgets that Larkin had very little understanding as to their usage in the creation of jewelry, to a pegboard that took up nearly an entire wall, all carefully organized with the tools of Roger’s various trades. Lots of hammers, lots of saws, lots of plyers, lots of tongs. Along the opposite wall were a number of retro metal signs, carefully curated so as to imply more than just care in the workplace: Men at Work, Teach Him Safety, Don’t Get Wet, and Ask Your Supervisor! The suggestive notices created a rectangle around a number of otherwise entirely innocent and vintage photographs of local baseball teams and events.

Roger leaned back against a worktable and took a defensive posture by crossing his arms. “How did Andy die?”

“He was murdered,” Larkin answered.

Roger frowned, took off his ball cap, and scrubbed his going-silver-fox hair with one hand. “I had no idea.”

“Jessica Lopez approached you about going to the police with her to fill out a missing person report.”

“Who? Oh… his roommate, right? Maybe she did.”

“I wasn’t suggesting,” Larkin answered. “I’m telling you she did.”

Roger narrowed his eyes. “All right, well, if she did, I don’t remember—”

“That’s because you didn’t want to be involved. In fact, no one even knew who you were until yesterday.” Larkin added after a pause, “That you were Andrew’s boyfriend.”

Roger offered a dry laugh. “No way. Andy and I weren’t dating. It was a casual thing.”

“Jessica said Andrew was pretty into you.”

“So what if he was? Detective—?”

“Larkin.”

“That’s right. Well, relationships aren’t my cup of tea, as they say.”

“You might want to give your PA a heads-up,” Larkin commented.

Roger colored. “Brian knows that I—look. Andy was a sweet guy, but he was a kid, and this was a lifetime ago. When he stopped calling, I was over it. There were other men. If I had thought for even a moment that something terrible had happened….”

Larkin said, “I’m not interested in hypothetical situations. What’s your relationship to Ricky Goulding.”

Roger looked confused.

“I’m asking you,” Larkin prompted.