“A Tyvek coverall,” Hazard said. “To prevent leaving any trace evidence at the scene. That’s a good sign that the Keeper was an intruder and a stranger. Wesley wouldn’t have worried about leaving physical evidence; after all, he has a perfectly legitimate way to explain it. Another point to you, John.”

“Gray, can you give us a minute? We’re—”

“No,” Hazard said, dropping the prescription bottle in the sink and making his way to the door. His shoulder smacked Somers’s, but he skirted Dulac. “I’ll leave the real police to do their job.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

JULY 2

TUESDAY

5:57 PM

HAZARD WAS SCRUBBING the counters when the garage door opened. He didn’t look over his shoulder. The Midwestern heat eddied around his bare feet; air from the garage, two-stroke oil, sawdust from the cedar boards Somers had been cutting on Saturday. He shook out the cloth over the sink, grabbed the bottle of CLR, and blasted the calcified buildup around the faucet. Three steps behind him. Then a quiet groan of relief; Hazard didn’t have to look around to know that Somers was leaning against the wall, taking off his shoes. Then more steps, coming closer.

“Hi,” Somers said, leaning around him to kiss him on the cheek.

“Hi.”

“So, you’re cleaning. That’s never a good sign.”

Hazard gave a few more aggressive blasts with the CLR. “It’s too hot for the oven, so I put together a salad. We can eat whenever you’re ready. If you need to eat and get back to the station—”

“No,” Somers said. “Special Agent Park said, quote, ‘the FBI has things well in hand,’ and she only asked Riggle for a few uniformed officers to watch the crime scenes. I’m officially relieved of duty until I show up tomorrow and Riggle hands me my ass in front of Park.”

“Why would Riggle do that?”

“Because I took the unheard-of step of investigating a victim’s apartment.”

Hazard had worked the cloth into the crevice between the faucet and the sink proper, and he was really going to town on it. His hand slowed now. “That’s ridiculous. That’s your job; you were doing your job.”

After a quick squeeze of Hazard’s arm, Somers headed out of the kitchen. He was walking slower than usual. His steps sounded heavier. He stopped in the living room, where Evie was playing with her Fashionista Fillies. When she started telling him something about Princess Priscilla, instead of a laugh and a question, he mumbled something that Hazard couldn’t hear and then those trudging steps picked up again. Hazard thought about all of this as he finished with the sink, and then he rinsed out the cloth and hung it on the lip of the sink to dry. He washed his hands. Then he set out the salad: spring mix, red onions, pan-seared chicken breast, corn, black beans, tortilla strips, cilantro-lime dressing. He moved to the opening that connected the kitchen and the living room and saw Evie forcing Gloriana’s little horsey head through the front window of the Fashionista Fillies’ RV.