* * *

Gavin Spencer lived in a large house, far too large for a low-end wedding photographer. Two stories with a three-stall garage, a house big enough that Niki’s entire family could have lived there, at least the ones who’d managed to get out of Vietnam after the war.

Boat people, they were called, even though Niki’s family never set foot in a boat. They made their escape by walking over the mountains into Thailand. There, the family languished in the Ban Vinai refugee camp until 1986, the year Niki was born. It was Niki’s birth that compelled the Lutheran church in St. Paul to sponsor their evacuation. Her mother still called Niki their good luck charm.

Niki parked on the street in front of Spencer’s house and looked around for any doorbell cameras that might face Gavin’s garage. The angle of the street and the vegetation along the sidewalk made the prospect of footage unlikely. Matty parked behind her and they paused for one last look around before heading up the walkway.

A curtain on a picture window moved as they neared the front door, and both Niki and Matty popped the thumb snap on their holsters. Niki could hear the sound of footsteps approaching the door, and before she even rang the bell, it opened. The man standing there looked nothing like the picture on his driver’s license. He was bald. She looked hard at him, focusing on his eyes, and Gavin Spencer materialized.

“Gavin Spencer?” she asked.

“I am.” His words came out slow and formal, as though he deliberated over each syllable.

“My name is Detective Niki Vang, and this is Detective Mateo Lopez. Can we have a word with you?”

Spencer gave the request a moment of thought and nodded. “Okay.”

Niki assumed that they would go into the house, but Spencer came out, shutting the door behind him.

“What can I help you with?” he said, his delivery again slow and controlled.

“Mind if we talk inside?” Niki asked.

“I do,” he said. Then he looked at the sky and added, “Beautiful evening.”

Niki gave Matty a quick glance, which he returned. “Okay. Were you the photographer at the wedding of Darrel and Janelle Halloway on Sunday?”

“Uh-huh,” he replied.

“Is that a yes?” Matty asked.

Spencer looked at Matty as though bored and said, “Yeah.”

Niki asked, “Did you happen to meet a woman named Sadie Vauk at that wedding?”

Spencer chewed on his cheek and looked up in a thoughtful squint. “I met quite a few people.”

“She was a bridesmaid.”

“I may recall her, never got her name, though.” Spencer looked back and forth between Niki and Matty then said, “Why do you want to know?”

“Where were you last night?”

“Here. I live alone.”

Niki looked at Spencer’s bald head. “How long have you been”—she pointed at his head— “without hair?”

“Am I…?” Spencer paused as though to collect himself. “Do I need a lawyer? Why are you here?”